The Faded Shield
The mist did not merely obscure the view of the pass; it swallowed it, a thick, grey curtain that pressed against the stone walls of the customs house until the air itself seemed to vibrate with a low, resonant hum. Elias Thorne stood alone in the center of the inspection hall, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of his father’s tarnished silver shield, the metal cold and heavy against...
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