The Pale Banner

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2026-08-18 05:02:09 -

The Pale Banner

The sword was not a weapon. It was a sentence. Elara held it in her left hand, the hilt slick with blood that was not hers. The rain fell in sheets, cold and heavy, turning the ancient moor into a slurry of black earth and bruised heather. She stood at the edge of the cliff, the wind tearing at her cloak, pulling at the tattered hem of the white banner she carried on her shoulder. It was not...

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