The Pale Banner
The dream began with the taste of chalk. It was a dry, dusty sensation that coated the tongue, a flavor that had no place in a world of wet soil and green leaves, yet it was the only thing Elias Thorne could remember from the night before he woke in the grey light of the Hall of Records. He sat up in his narrow cot, the straw ticking under his weight, and felt the residue still clinging to the...
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