The Golden Echoes
The rain hammered against the leaded glass of the study window, a relentless drumming that seemed to vibrate in the very bones of the house. Elara Vane stood before the wall, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the strange, golden sigils etched into the plaster. They had been there since her husband, Arthur, died, hidden beneath layers of dust and silence, but now, in the dim light of...
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