The Golden Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 07:03:16 -

The Golden Mirror

The rain did not fall. It seeped. It rose from the flagstones of the keep, a cold mist that tasted of iron and old blood. I held the mirror. It was not gold. It was tarnished silver, dark as a bruise, cracked along one edge. But the people called it golden. They said it saw the truth. I am Sir Julian. I am the King’s Warden. My hands are steady. My breath is shallow. We were in the crypt. The...

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