The Faded Shield
The clay tablet was warm in Elias Thorne’s hands, a heat that did not belong to the damp chill of the Iron Ward’s administrative halls. He pressed his thumb against the crack running through the center of the artifact, feeling the vibration travel up his wrist and into his teeth. The Shield of Silence, they called it, a relic of the old kings that promised immunity from the purge, though the...
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