The Golden Echoes
The scent of dried lavender and old bone dust clings to the air inside the tower, a thick, cloying perfume that seems to solidify in the corners of the room, pressing against your skin like a damp cloth, while the single tallow candle flickers in a draft that has no source, casting long, trembling shadows that dance across the stone floor with a rhythm that feels less like light and more like a...
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