The Golden Mirror
You leave the city of Oakhaven at the hour when the fog is thickest, a time when the cobblestones are slick with the damp breath of the earth and the gas lamps burn with a sickly, yellow bruise against the twilight, and you carry with you not a bag, but a jar, a heavy, lead-sealed vessel that contains the last distillation of the year, a potion of such potent sweetness that it has the power to...
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