The Pale Banner
The chandeliers in the mess hall cast a warm, honeyed glow over the crystal glasses, refracting light into a thousand fractured diamonds that danced across the faces of the men I had led for twenty-two years. I stood at the head of the long oak table, my hands trembling not from the chill in the mountain air but from the crushing, physical weight of the report I had signed three days prior, a...
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