The Pale Verdict
The ice broke at dawn. It did not shatter with a roar, but with a long, agonized creak that split the air like a bone. Silas stood on the edge of the frozen lake, his boots slipping on the black slush. He wore the armor. Not the steel of a knight, for no such thing existed in this age of rust and rain, but the wool and leather of a man who had forgotten how to be soft. The coat was white. It...
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