The Faded Photograph
The banquet hall of the White Citadel did not merely exist within the stone walls of the old keep; it hovered, a suspended breath of gold and crimson suspended in the void of a timeless twilight, where the chandeliers were not glass and crystal but clusters of glowing, pulsing orbs that drifted like lazy jellyfish through the air, casting a light that felt less like illumination and more like a...
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