The Golden Oath
The chandelier above the Founders’ Gala hall in 1912 was a constellation of crystal that caught the light of three hundred gas lamps, refracting it into a dizzying web that seemed to pulse with the collective anxiety of every man in the room. You stand at the edge of the crowd, your hand wrapped tightly around the leather case of the golden compass, the metal casing warm against your palm, a...
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