The Golden Mirror
The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the sky, a thick, cold breath that settled into the stones of the keep before you even opened the door. You stood on the threshold, the heavy oak groaning under the weight of the hinges, and looked back at the empty road. Your brother, Thomas, was gone. Not dead, not yet, but gone in the way that matters most. He had walked into the fog with...
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