The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-23 17:46:49 -

The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the grey sky, a persistent, cold mist that seeped into the joints of my armor and settled in the marrow of my bones. I stood alone in the antechamber of the Iron Guard, the silence heavy with the weight of the Obsidian Mirror that loomed before me, its surface not glass but a polished slab of volcanic stone that seemed to drink the light from...

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