The Pale Banner
The coat was grey. It was a heavy wool thing, tailored for a man who no longer existed. Elias sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees, staring at the garment. It hung from the back of the chair, a silent sentinel. The air in the room was thin, stripped of oxygen by the relentless wind outside. He picked it up. The fabric was cold. It smelled of cedar and old dust. It smelled...
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