The Golden Song

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2026-08-18 17:38:38 -

The Golden Song

The morning air in the Citadel tasted of iron and old dust. Elias stood before the mirror in the antechamber. It was a tall thing, framed in bronze that had long since lost its shine. The glass was cloudy, etched with the ghosts of those who had stood there before him. He touched his own face. The skin was tight, pulled over the bone. He looked at his hands. They were steady. That was the first...

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