The Faded Shield

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2026-08-24 08:35:03 -

The Faded Shield

The quill had leaked three times in the last hour, staining the parchment with black tears that smelled of iron and old blood. Thomas counted the drops as they fell, his breath fogging in the damp air of the scriptorium. He needed the charter to be clean by noon, or the Abbot would take it. The stipend was small, twelve pence a month, but it was the difference between a warm bed and the cold...

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