The Golden Ritual
The walls of Oakhaven were not merely stone; they were a ledger. I had served as the senior warden for twenty-two years, watching the mortar dry and crack, but it was the gold dust that governed my life. It was a fine, glittering precipitate that seeped from the cracks whenever a lie was spoken within the fortress bounds. The system was simple, brutal, and effective. If the walls wept, the...
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