The Faded Shield

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2026-08-19 07:25:21 -

The Faded Shield

The dream always began with the rain. It was not the gentle, cleansing rain of a spring afternoon, but a heavy, gray deluge that turned the world into a blur of wet slate and rusted iron. In the dream, Margaret stood in the center of a vast, empty hall, the floor slick and reflecting the dim light of a single, hanging lamp. She held a shield in her hands. It was not a weapon of war, not truly,...

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