The Faded Shield
The sky above Oakhaven did not fall so much as it dissolved, bleeding a bruised purple into the twilight that had long since ceased to be natural. The village, with its slate roofs and narrow, winding cobbles, stood still under the weight of a silence that was not silence at all, but a held breath, a collective suspension of time. It was the Year of the Broken Bell, or so the elders whispered,...
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