The Golden Mirror
The dream was a corridor of polished obsidian, stretching into a darkness that tasted of iron and old dust. Elara stood at the center, her reflection in the black floor not mirroring her movement, but anticipating it, a ghostly twin wearing her face but wearing it like a mask. She turned, and the twin remained, watching. In the dream, the corridor ended at a heavy door of oak, banded with iron....
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