The Golden Echoes
The mist outside the windows of Aethelgard Hall was thick enough to chew on, a grey slurry that clung to the stone and seeped into the joints of the ancient floor. Elias stood in the center of the Great Hall, his hands trembling slightly at his sides, watching the Golden Echoes. The moss covered every inch of the wall, a shimmering, golden tapestry that pulsed with a low, subsonic hum. It...
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