The Faded Photograph
The sword was heavy. It was always heavy. Kaelen swung. The air tore. He was in the throne room. No. He was in the street. The cobblestones were slick with rain and blood. The enemy was a shape. A dark blur. Kaelen did not see a face. He saw only the threat. He struck again. The metal rang. It was a cold, dead sound. His brother, Elian, was behind him. Elian was breathing hard. The sound of it...
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