The Golden Oath

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2026-08-18 06:54:02 -

The Golden Oath

The banquet hall of the Citadel of Aethelgard smelled of roasted lamb and old stone. It smelled of power. Candles guttered in iron sconces, casting long, trembling shadows across the vaulted ceiling. The air was thick with smoke and the low hum of a hundred conversations that never truly connected. Silas Vane sat at the edge of the table. He was a small man, unremarkable in his grey tunic, his...

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