The Golden Mirror
Act I In Suvanna, the air tasted of rust and river silt, a flavor that settled in the teeth before the sun had even cleared the slate hills. I woke to the sound of my workshop being torn apart, the specific, wet tearing of plaster and the crunch of my tools being crushed under the boots of the royal guards. I knew immediately what they wanted, the Golden Mirror I had hidden behind the false...
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