The Faded Shield
The rain has been falling for three days, a grey, relentless curtain that blurs the line between the sky and the jagged, mud-slicked peaks of the Welsh border, and you are walking through it with a canteen that feels heavier than a human life, heavy with a liquid that your body craves and your mind rejects, a thick, amber-colored tonic that your father, God rest his stubborn and unyielding...
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