The Golden Compass

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2026-08-20 08:18:43 -

The air in the Hall of the White Stone smelled of dried lavender and old iron, a scent that had settled into the very mortar of the walls over three centuries. Aldric Vane stood at the center of the circle, his hands bound not by rope, but by the sheer, crushing weight of expectation. He was a man carved from silence, his armor a dull grey that absorbed the light rather than reflecting it....

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