The Pale Banner

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2026-08-17 10:50:30 -

The Pale Banner

The iron plate hangs loose on your neck. It is cold. The metal is pitted, scarred by rust and the damp air of the valley. You have worn it for thirty years. It is not a medal. It is not a badge of honor. It is a shackle. Or perhaps a shield. You no longer know the difference. The weight is familiar. It sits against your sternum, a cold stone in the center of your chest. You are old. Your hands...

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