The Faded Portrait
The mirror in the barracks was cracked. A jagged vein ran from the top corner down to the center, splitting my reflection into two distinct, disjointed halves. I had not broken it. It had been there since before I arrived, a permanent scar in the woodwork of the stone room. I looked at the left side of my face. It was young. Unlined. It was the face of the man I had been before the summons...
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