The Wistful Petal
The first crack sounded like a bone breaking inside the wall of the Great Hall, and you were the only one who heard it. You stood before the Council of Elders, your hands steady, your eyes fixed on the polished floor where a single, impossible petal of gold had drifted from the chandelier above. It was not a flower. It was a coin, or perhaps a leaf, but it shimmered with the cold, metallic...
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