The Faded Shield
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the garrison courtyard into a slick, treacherous mirror of the sky. Seraphina stood at the edge of the wet flagstones, her hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavier than steel, heavier than duty, heavier than the soul she had been slowly bleeding out into the mud. She was the Warden...
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