The Golden Mirror
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, persistent mist that clung to the high windows of the manor house, blurring the world outside into a watercolor of grey and green. Inside, the silence was not empty but heavy, a physical weight that pressed against the eardrums and settled in the marrow. Elias Thorne stood before the tall, arched mirror in the hallway, his hand resting on the...
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