The Pale Shadows
The feast was a thing of excess, a sprawling table in the center of the longhouse that stretched from the hearth to the far end of the hall, groaning under the weight of roasted boar and wheels of cheese that smelled of wet earth and time. I sat at the far end, near the door, because I am not a man who commands the center, and my wife, Elara, sat beside me with her hands folded in her lap, her...
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