The Faded Shield

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2026-08-16 02:39:06 -

The Faded Shield

The shield had once been silver. That was what Thomas Ashwick told himself every morning when he looked at it hanging on the wall of his workshop, above the half-finished helmets and dented breastplates that cluttered his small shop on Threadneedle Street. Silver, with the family crest — a greyhound running through an oak tree — burned into the centre. Silver that caught the morning light and...

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