The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-18 00:55:16 -

The air in the Hall of Whispers tasted of iron and old dust, a metallic tang that coated the back of Sir Aldric’s throat. He stood alone in the center of the vast, circular chamber, the floor beneath his boots a mosaic of cracked obsidian and pale marble. The silence here was not empty; it was heavy, pressurized, a living thing that breathed against his eardrums. In his hands, he held the...

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