The Golden Oath
The road to the valley of Ashenmoor was not a path but a wound in the earth, a jagged scar of mud and stone that bled under the weight of your cart. You were young, barely more than a boy, with hands that had not yet learned the permanence of calluses, and you pulled the load alone. The cart was heavy, not with grain or iron, but with the silence of the village behind you. They had watched you...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme