The Golden Scar

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2026-08-24 06:15:32 -

The Golden Scar

The air in the Hall of Whispers tasted of copper and stale incense, a dry, rotting sweetness that coated the back of Elias’s throat. He stood at the edge of the dais, twelve years old and shivering in a tunic that had been mended so many times the fabric had lost all memory of its original weave. In his left hand, wrapped in a scrap of silk, he held a shard of golden amber, no larger than a...

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