The Golden Myth
The banquet hall in the lower city of Aurelia was a cavern of polished obsidian and hanging crystals, where the air hung thick with the scent of roasted pheasant, spiced wine, and the cold, metallic tang of ozone. You sat at the far end of the long table, your posture rigid, your hands folded in your lap as if you were holding a secret so heavy it required the full strength of your skeletal...
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