The Golden Maze
The walls of the Imperial Archive do not merely stand; they breathe. You are twelve years old, a scribe in training, and you know this because you have watched the shelves shift when the Head Archivist lies. You stand before the iron door of Cell 4, your hand trembling against the cold metal. Inside, Julian waits. He is your mentor, the man who taught you to read the old scripts, and he is...
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