The Pale Banner
"Drink up, Thorne. You look like a man who’s been staring at a wall for a decade." The voice belonged to Miller, my deputy, though I didn’t look at him. I was looking at the flag. It hung from the center of the banquet hall, a stark rectangle of white and blue that seemed to absorb the dim light of the chandeliers rather than reflect it. The air in the room was thick, a physical weight composed...
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