The Golden Mirror
The cart rattled over the cobblestones of the old quarter, a sound like teeth chattering in the cold, and Elias Thorne, whose hands were stained permanently with the soot of the city’s eternal fires, tightened his grip on the reins as he navigated the narrow, fog-choked streets that twisted like intestines beneath the belly of the sleeping town, a town that had not known true daylight in three...
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