The Golden Oath
The sky split open with a sound like tearing silk. Captain Elias Thorne stood on the balcony of the Whitehall Tower, his hand gripping the iron railing until his knuckles turned white. Below, the city of Aethelgard was burning. Not with fire, but with a sickly, pulsing gold light that rose from the cobblestones like steam. It was beautiful. It was wrong. He had served the King for thirty years....
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