The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-20 01:25:50 -

The Golden Mirror

The rain did not fall. It hung. A thick, gray curtain of mist that smelled of wet stone and old blood. I walked the road. My boots were heavy. Leather. Stiff. They crunched on the gravel. A sound like breaking bones. I was looking for the house. I had to find it. My brother was there. Or what remained of him. I had not seen Thomas in three years. Three years since the fever. Three years since...

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