The Golden Ritual

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2026-08-21 17:23:23 -

The Golden Ritual

The dream began, as it always did, with the smell of wet ash and the sound of a clock ticking in a room that did not exist. I was standing in the Great Hall of the Whitmore Estate, but the chandeliers were dead, their crystal pendants hanging like frozen tears, and the air was thick with the gray dust of a century. I was not there to celebrate; I was there to be judged. In the corner of my...

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