The Pale Banner
"Put it back in the fold, Thorne. Now." The voice belonged to Commander Halloway, a man whose armor was polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the dim torchlight of the keep’s central hall. I stood before the Pale Banner, my breath misting in the frigid air that seemed to leak from the fabric itself. The banner was not cloth, not truly. It was a sheet of pale, cold light stretched over a...
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