The Golden Compass

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2026-08-18 01:40:21 -

The hall smelled of roasted pheasant and expensive wool, a scent that seemed to cling to the back of the throat like a bad taste. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my hands folded neatly in my lap, watching the candlelight flicker against the stone walls. It was a beautiful room, cold and high-ceilinged, filled with the low hum of conversation and the clink of silverware. My son,...

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