The Golden Oath
The air tasted of copper and old dust. I smelled the rot before I saw it. A sweet, cloying stench that clung to the back of the throat. It was the smell of things that should have died but didn’t. I stood in the center of the Hall of Echoes. The floor was glass. Thick, dark glass. Beneath my feet, something moved. Not water. Not oil. Something alive. Something shifting in the deep dark. "Is it...
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