The Faded Shield

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 06:23:24 -

The Faded Shield

The rain fell in sheets of grey iron, hammering the cobblestones of the old market square until the air smelled of wet stone and decay. Thomas stood by the city gate, his hands clasped behind his back, feeling the cold seep through the wool of his doublet. He was a clerk, a man of ink and paper, of ledgers and quiet rooms. But today he was not there to balance accounts. He was there to say...

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