The Pale Banner
The mud in the trench was not merely wet earth; it was a living, rotting thing that clung to the soles of my boots with a tenacity that felt personal, a dark, suffocating embrace that sought to pull me down into the cold, silent belly of the earth. I was Caelan, and I was bleeding from a gash above my left eye, the blood hot and stinging against the chill of the autumn air, mixing with the...
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