The Golden Cellar
The rain fell on the city of Aethelgard not as water, but as a fine, golden dust that settled in the crevices of the stone and clung to the skin like a second, heavier layer of air. It was a city built in the shadow of a mountain that had not been seen in living memory, a place where the architecture curved inward, where the streets were narrow canyons of grey granite, and where the light did...
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