The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-21 16:48:57 -

The Golden Mirror

The frost had turned the windows into opaque shields. Marcus sat. He held the object. It was a shard. Thin. Cold. He was a warden. Or so he thought. The title had faded. The walls did not care for titles. They cared for the cold. The cold was a living thing. It breathed through the stone. It settled in the bones. Marcus held the shard tight. His fingers were numb. The pain was a dull throb. A...

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