The Faded Shield
The train hissed into the depot of Blackwood Station, a long, metallic exhalation that seemed to drain the life from the freezing November air. Silas Thorne stepped onto the platform, his boots striking the wet cobblestones with a heavy, deliberate rhythm. He was a man carved from the same gray stone as the stationmaster’s office, broad-shouldered and silent, carrying a duffel bag that smelled...
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