The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-23 03:19:41 -

The Golden Mirror

The letter was thick, cream-colored, and smelled of damp wool and old paper. I held it under the gaslight in my office, the flame hissing against the draft that crept in from the street. It was from Aris Vane, a name I had tried to bury for ten years. The ink was shaky, the words cramped. He spoke of a mirror that did not show faces, but fates. He begged me to come to the Ironworks estate...

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