The Faded Shield
Thorne. The name was not spoken aloud, but it hung in the thin air of the barracks like a draft from a cracked window, a summons that bypassed the ears and struck directly at the base of the skull, dragging Elias Thorne from the depths of a recurring nightmare where the village’s ancient shield hung broken and rotting on a gate of iron. He sat up in the narrow cot, his body a map of aches that...
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