The Distant Crown

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2026-08-19 00:07:37 -

The Distant Crown

The morning air in the High Citadel tasted of iron and old snow. I stood before the great mirror of polished obsidian, adjusting the collar of my tunic, a garment of fine white linen that had been stiffened with starch to hold its rigid shape. The room was cold, a deliberate chill that kept the mind sharp and the blood slow. Behind me, the faint hum of the Aetheric Loom vibrated through the...

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