The Faded Shield

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2026-08-19 17:42:21 -

The Faded Shield

The air in the town hall smelled of damp wool and old varnish, a scent that had permeated the bones of every person gathered there for the annual harvest gala. I stood near the pillar, my hands clasped tightly behind my back, feeling the familiar tremor in my knuckles that I had spent decades learning to suppress. The room was a cacophony of polite laughter and clinking glass, a feast of noise...

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