The Golden Cellar
The cellar was not a place of storage, but a living thing, a golden lung that breathed beneath the stone foundation of the House of Aethelgard. It was a cathedral of amber light, suspended in the dark earth, where the air tasted of honey and old dust and the heavy, sweet rot of power. I stood at the threshold, my fingers trembling against the cold iron of the gate, while my sister Elara stood...
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