The Pale Banner

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 07:03:52 -

The Pale Banner

The soup tasted of iron and old pennies. Thomas sat at the edge of the stone bench, the bowl cold in his hands, the steam long since vanished into the grey, fog-choked air of the Hall. He was a Sergeant, or had been, before the fog took the rank and the name and left only the function. Now he was just a vessel for the broth, a keeper of the recipe, a guardian of the heat. The Hall was not a...

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