The Pale Banner
The rain has been falling on the village of Oakhaven for three days, a relentless, gray sheet that blurs the line between the earth and the sky, and you are standing on the porch of the old stone house at the edge of the mill, watching the water run in thick, brown rivulets down the siding. You are holding a handkerchief to your mouth, but it does not stop the copper taste spreading across your...
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