The Golden Ritual
The iron gates of the Ashworth Institute for Psychical Hygiene groaned open, a sound like a sigh released from a chest long compressed by sorrow. Arthur Pendelton did not look back at the carriage that had brought him from the rain-slicked cobblestones of London. He had left his sister, Elara, on the other side of that threshold, her hand already retreating into the gloom of the doorway, her...
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