The Faded Shield

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2026-08-22 20:00:20 -

The Faded Shield

Arthur. The name hung in the cold air of the foundry, sharp as a snapped wire. It was 1912, and the Blackwood Ironworks smelled of wet coal and rust. Twelve-year-old Arthur stood at the center of the industrial court, clutching a rusted iron shield that was too large for his frame. The metal was cold, a deep, biting chill that seeped through his woolen gloves and into the bone. He wanted to...

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