The Faded Shield
The rain hammered against the thick glass of the window, a relentless, rhythmic drumming that seemed to vibrate through the very stone of the keep. Elias Thorne stood with his back to the door, his fingers tracing the frayed hem of a cloak that had once been the deep, proud crimson of the royal guard. Now it was a dull, rusted brown, heavy with the dust of decades and the weight of secrets....
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