The Golden Mirror
The bell above the door jingled with a harsh, metallic shriek that cut through the damp London fog of 1904, shattering the silence of your shop and dragging you from the heavy, suffocating sleep that had taken root in your chest. You, Elias Thorne, a forty-year-old apothecary whose lungs felt as though they were filled with wet sand, sat up on the bench behind the counter, your hand...
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