The Golden Oath
"You are the stain that will not wash out, Thomas," said the Archon, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the Obsidian Hall. It was a heavy, accusatory tone, stripped of all warmth, designed to crush the spirit before it could even blink. I did not flinch. I could not. My body, that strange and shifting vessel of bone and shadow and something older, stood rigid in the center of the...
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