The Faded Shield
The snow at Krasnoyarsk fell in sheets of gray ash, burying the gatehouse under a silence that felt heavier than the winter air. Captain Elias Thorne stood by the wall, his breath pluming in short, sharp bursts, watching his son, Julian, ride away on a horse too small for the boy’s frame. Elias did not wave. He did not speak. He only watched the small figure shrink against the white void, a...
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