The Faded Road
Thorne. The name hung in the air of the command tent, heavy and damp. Colonel Vance did not look up from the map spread before him. The parchment was yellowed, the ink faded, but the lines of Oakhaven’s districts were sharp. "Report, Sergeant." Elias Thorne stood at attention. His left hand trembled. It had been doing so for three weeks, ever since the raid on the Blackwater Bridge. The tremor...
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