The Golden Mirror
The salt flats stretched out before Elias Thorne, a blinding white expanse that swallowed the horizon. He stood at the edge, his boots sinking slightly into the crust, while Mara’s hand remained cold and dry in his grip. He was forty-two years old, a sergeant with twenty years of service, and he was here to clear his name before the tribunal began. The air tasted of copper, a metallic tang that...
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