The Golden Crossing
October 14, 1893 The sword did not strike flesh; it struck the air, and the air screamed. It was a sound like tearing silk, a high, thin shriek that vibrated in my teeth and settled in the marrow of my bones, a frequency that seemed to pull the warmth directly out of my veins. Lord Vane’s barrier is not a wall of stone or iron, but a membrane of condensed authority, a shimmering distortion in...
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