The Golden Myth

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2026-08-19 09:15:55 -

The Golden Myth

The banquet hall smelled of roasting lamb and wet wool. It was a thick, cloying scent that clung to the velvet drapes and the sweat of the men who gathered there. Outside, the city of Vane hummed with the low, electric thrum of industry. Smoke poured from the chimneys in great black pillars, staining the twilight sky a bruised purple. Inside, the chandeliers burned bright, casting long, sharp...

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