The Pale Banner
Act I "You will burn the pages before the sun hits the western ridge," the Duke said, his voice flat as a blade. I stood in the war room, the air heavy with tallow and old sweat. My hands trembled, a fine vibration that traveled up my arms and settled in my teeth. The chronicle lay on the desk, a scroll of vellum stained with the dust of the siege. I wanted to finish it, to record the truth of...
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