The Pale Banner
The sky above the valley of the River Trent did not break open so much as it simply ceased to be a sky, the clouds rolling over in a bruised purple mass that swallowed the sun whole and left the world in a twilight that felt less like evening and more like a burial shroud draped over the shoulders of the earth. You stood at the edge of the muddy embankment, your boots sinking into the cold, wet...
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