The Golden Oath
The rain had turned the mud at the foot of Blackwood Pass into a thick, sucking paste that threatened to swallow your boots whole. You stood there, shivering in the damp chill of the November air, the gold signet ring on your left thumb feeling heavier than it had any right to. It was a cold weight, a dense, metallic ache that pulsed in time with your own terrified heartbeat. You had told Major...
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