The Golden Mirror
Thorne. The name hung in the air, sharp and accusatory, spoken by the shadow of the man who had once been your mentor. You woke with the taste of ash on your tongue and the weight of a debt pressing down on your chest like a wet wool coat. It was 1893, and the world had narrowed to a single, burning purpose: you needed the Golden Mirror. Not for vanity, not for magic, but because it was the...
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