The Golden Song

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2026-08-23 15:23:42 -

The Golden Song

The dampness of the stone barracks seeps into the marrow of your bones, a cold that no amount of wool or rage can displace, and in the flickering, sputtering light of a tallow candle, you hold the gold circlet in your palm as if it were a live coal, the metal warm and heavy against the calluses of your hand, a stolen thing that now weighs more than the years of service that have bled the life...

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