The Faded Shield
The fire in the great hall of Oakhaven Castle burned with a malice that seemed to eat the very air, a roaring, orange beast that swallowed the shadows and spat out sparks like angry flies. I stood at the edge of the feast, my hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavy as a coffin lid, watching the lords and ladies dance in a blur of silk and sweat. The music was a dull, thumping...
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