The Golden Oath

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2026-08-23 13:37:22 -

The Golden Oath

The brass seal sat on my desk, cold and heavy, a golden eye staring back at me. It was 1912, and the air in the Court of Chancery smelled of dust and old paper, a scent that had long since seeped into the fibers of my coat. I was Arthur Vane, thirty years old, an archivist who had spent a decade preserving the words of others while losing the ability to speak my own. My brother, Thomas, was in...

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