The Faded Shield
The rain hit the window with a sound like tearing cloth. Mara stared at the seal. It was red. Faded. A circle of text. She held it between her thumb and forefinger. The paper crinkled. It was small. A square of parchment. Old. Smelling of dust and damp. It was a mark. A sigil. A name written in code. She was a detective. Or so the badge on her desk claimed. The badge was brass. Tarnished. She...
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