The Faded Shield

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 22:01:56 -

The Faded Shield

The hammer head sat in my palm, cold and slick with the grease of my own sweat. It was a heavy thing, forged by my father, its face scarred by decades of striking iron until the metal itself seemed to remember the blow. I looked up from the workbench. The forge was dark, save for the dying embers that glowed like dying coals in a hearth. Outside, the wind howled through the valley of Oakhaven,...

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