The Pale Banner
The fog did not roll into Oakhaven; it seeped out of the cobblestones, thick as milk and cold as a grave. You are Elias, and your hands are stained not just with flour, but with the rust-colored blood of a war that has bled into the town’s bones for three years. You want to bake the Pale Banner, the sacred loaf that the elders claim will hold the enemy at bay, but the uncanny rule is clear: the...
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