The Golden Oath
The dream began with the sound of glass breaking. Not the sharp crack of a window, but the slow, wet shatter of a thick pane dropping onto a marble floor. Thomas woke with a gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The room was dark. The air smelled of old paper and dust. He lay still for a moment, listening to the silence. It was not empty. It hummed. Thomas was a...
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