The Faded Shield

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:03:50 -

The Faded Shield

The feast began at dusk, in the great hall of the iron fortress. Candles burned low in brass holders. The air smelled of roasted meat, spilled wine, and the metallic tang of old blood. They sat on benches of oak, their faces gaunt, their eyes bright with a feverish hunger. They were not kings. They were not generals. They were clerks. Scribes. Keepers of the ledger. At the center of the table...

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