The Golden Ritual
The gold circlet lay in the mud, half-buried in the clay and the blood of the dead man. Aldric knelt in the rain, his armor slick and heavy, and pulled the ring from the corpse’s cold fingers. It was a simple band, thin as a whisper, but the gold was old and the engravings were precise. A knight’s first duty is to the body of the king, and Aldric, thirty years old and weary of the mud, knew...
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