The Gold Story Contest: The Last Gold Leaf

The Last Gold Leaf

A enchanted narrative of devotion, offering, and True Gold.

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“ Gold, when wished with love, doesn’t make one rich — it makes the world more. ”

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In the heart of the forgotten area of Eltheria, nestled between snow- dusted mountains and evergreen timbers, stood the Tree of Aurum — a colossal tree with dinghy of citation and leaves of pure gold. No one knew who planted it. Some said it grew where a golden star had fallen from the sky. Others rumored that the gods blessed it to Eltheria as a symbol of eternal substance. What signified was this once a time, one single splint would fall from its branches, and whoever held that gold splint was said to be granted one want — a want that always came true. But there was a catch
The want could noway be selfish.

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A youthful healer from the border vill of Lira, Alina had noway sought gold. She cured with sauces and kindness, content with little. But that downtime, a fever swept through her vill, taking the old, the youthful, and the strong likewise. Her short relative, Milo, was passing — faded, stressing, and rumoring delusions of gliding again, of tasting sun on his outside. Doctors said it was too late. Alina refused to accept that.

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With nothing but a beaker of water, a worn satchel, and a cinch of her family’s hair, she began her trip to Eltheria. For twenty days and nights, she climbed escarpments, crossed frozen gutters, and dodged stealers. Her thrills tore. Her fritters bled. But her heart noway gave in. When she eventually reached the Tree of Aurum, the first snow had fallen. The air lustered with silence. Dozens bivouacked beneath the tree, their eyes overhead, staying.

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That night, as the moon reached its peak, a golden gust blew — and one splint lustered , shook, and sluggishly began to fall. Time congealed. People jumped, shoved, screamed.
Alina stood still. She didn't reach for the splint. She gripped the cinch of Milo’s hair in her hand, closed her eyes, and rumored

“ I wish. I could give him a life worth living. Not gold. Not cautions. Just time. ”

The splint twirled formerly in the air. also floated gently into her open win. Gasps echoed around her. Some wept. Others cheered. She unclosed her eyes and scented tepidity stream through her body. The lamella vanished into golden dust, and flew into the high. Alina collapsed, exhausted, smiling.

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When she returned to Lira two days latterly, Milo was sitting up in bed, laughing. He lived. But that wasn't all. That downtime, every home in Lira had food. The fever dissolved from the vill. The motive, formerly impoverished, bore fruit in vault. Alina noway asked for riches but she came a symbol of stopgap. The Tree of Aurum still stands. And every time, a splint falls. But legends now say

“ Gold, when wished with love, doesn’t make one rich — it makes the world more. ”

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MusaGold Contest Link
https://steemit.com/world-of-xpilar/@musa-gold/write-to-win-the-gold-story-contest-powered-by-musagold-com-and-steem

🌟 In this story, gold represents stopgap, immolation, and mending — far beyond material value.

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💫 Thank you for reading!
Let your words turn into gold.

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