The Golden Oath
The iron of the sword was cold against Aldous’s palm, a familiar and heavy weight that felt less like a tool of war and more like an extension of his own spine. He stood in the center of the circular arena, the sand beneath his boots gritty and shifting, while the air around him shimmered with a heat that did not come from the sun, for there was no sun here, only a pale, diffuse luminescence...
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