The Faded Shield
The shield lay on the cobblestones of the market square, its paint chipped and its oak frame splintered by a force that had not yet fully revealed its nature. I stood before it, my hands trembling not from the cold that seeped up through the soles of my boots, but from the sudden, crushing weight of a truth I had spent three years trying to ignore. The town of Oakhaven was quiet in the way that...
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