The Golden Oath
The glass shattered. Not all at once. It began with a hairline fracture, a whisper of stress in the crystal. Then the sound. A high, thin ping. It echoed in the vault. I did not flinch. I had heard it before. In my dreams. In the silence of the cellar. The Mirror Hall was not a room. It was a state. A suspended breath in the deep earth. The air tasted of ozone and old stone. My hands trembled....
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