The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-18 04:36:35 -

The Golden Mirror

The train to the Ashlands did not so much run as it groaned, a long, iron beast pulling itself up the mountain through a fog so thick it felt less like weather and more like a physical substance, a cold, wet wool pressed against the glass. I sat in the corner of the compartment, my hands resting on my knees, the leather of my gloves worn thin at the fingers. I was a Detective Inspector, a title...

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