The Faded Shield
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the cobblestones of the old city like a jagged piece of glass sliding under a fingernail, and it was in that moment of pure, unadulterated panic that Thomas saw the shield on the wall change its face, the painted oak and iron no longer a shield but a mirror reflecting the very horror that was about to consume him, a horror...
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