The Golden Oath
The feast was a riot of noise and light, a chaotic tapestry woven from the threads of your own making. You sat at the head of the long oak table, the wood polished to a mirror shine that reflected your face back to you in distorted shards. Around you, the faces of your kin and friends blurred into a single, humming organism, their laughter rising like steam from a kettle, their clinking glasses...
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