The Faded Shield
The strap of the shield dug into Elias’s palm, a familiar ache that grounded him as he packed the last of his kit. Mara stood by the door, her back to him, the fabric of her dress rustling with a small, dry sound that seemed too loud in the quiet of the cottage. He did not look at her; looking at her would mean asking her to stay, and he knew with a cold certainty that he could not bear the...
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