The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-18 07:13:40 -

The Golden Mirror

The ink was drying on the parchment, a slow, viscous process that mirrored the stagnation in my chest. I sat in the lower office of the Keep, a stone box that smelled of damp wool and old varnish, staring at the sigil stamped in the corner of the report. It was a simple circle, bisected by a vertical line, known in the older texts as the Mark of the Echo. I had seen it before, in my dreams,...

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