The Golden Ritual

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2026-08-23 09:51:15 -

The Golden Ritual

The banquet hall smelled of roasted boar and old wine, a thick, cloying scent that seemed to coat the back of Elias Thorne’s throat. He stood at the center of the long oak table, the Golden Seal resting in his palm, heavy and cold as a river stone. The hall was a blur of candlelight and movement, servants weaving between the legs of officers who laughed with a raucous, desperate energy. Thorne...

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