The Golden Oath
The heavy velvet curtain, the color of dried blood, parted with a sigh that seemed to draw the air from the room, revealing not a man but a monument of gold and silence. You stood in the antechamber, your boots polished to a mirror shine that reflected the chandeliers above, and you felt the weight of the medal on your chest, a cold iron heart against your own beating one. It was a strange...
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