The Pale Shadows
The iron collar had been cold when I first touched it, a slab of forged steel that had sat for centuries in the dark cellar of the keep, gathering the damp and the silence of the stone. I was the last of the Kingsguard, a title that meant nothing to the villagers in the valley below, who saw only a man in ragged leather, a man who spoke too little and bled too easily. But in the high tower,...
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