The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-23 11:48:41 -

The jar was heavy in my hands, the glass sweating with condensation that smelled of burnt sugar and iron. I sat on the cold stone of the border post, my boots caked in the red clay of the highlands, and watched the mist roll in from the valley below. The golden honey inside sloshed, a thick, viscous light that seemed to pulse against the glass. I had carried it for three days. Three days of...

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