The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-20 08:20:13 -

The Golden Mirror

The bread had gone hard. It sat on the stone table in the center of the great hall, a round, dense loaf of rye that had been baked two days prior. Thomas Alder stood before it, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted the leather straps of his breastplate. He was a man of forty winters, his face a map of deep lines carved by sun and sorrow. To anyone else, the bread was merely food, stale...

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