The Golden Echoes

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2026-08-17 19:05:33 -

The Golden Echoes

The feast was a cacophony of silver and sweat, a blurring of faces behind the haze of wine. We ate until the plates were bare, the bones of roasted lamb slick with grease, the bread torn and stale. The hall was dark, lit only by tallow candles that dripped black tears onto the stone floor. I sat at the far end, the one reserved for the scholar, the keeper of words. My name was Elias, though the...

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