The Faded Shield

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2026-08-20 18:03:51 -

The Faded Shield

The soup in the communal mess hall was a thick, rust-colored sludge, and it tasted of iron. I stirred it with a spoon that had a chip in its rim, watching the bubbles rise and pop, a rhythm as indifferent as the rain lashing against the high, narrow windows of the fortress. Across the table, Silas was eating. He ate with the mechanical precision of a man who had long since separated the act of...

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