The Faded Shield
The dream began with the cold. It was not the biting chill of a winter wind. It was the stillness of ice. Deep, black water. A silence that pressed against the eardrums like a physical weight. Thomas lay in the center of the room. He was awake, or perhaps he was not. The distinction had blurred hours ago. The walls of the stone chamber were close. Too close. The air was thick, heavy with the...
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