The Golden Harbor
The highlands of the New Kingdom were a place of iron and ash, where the pine barrens stretched out like a wound that would not close, and the rain had been falling sideways for a week, turning the dirt roads into rivers of mud that swallowed the wheels of the supply carts. In this landscape of grey stone and black smoke, Tesfaye Worku sat in the damp cellar of the monastery, his fingers...
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