The Golden Crossing
The iron blade bites your shoulder. You do not flinch. Blood, hot and thick, beads on the steel. The King’s guard lunges. You spin. The tip of your spear finds the gap in his armor. He falls. The throne room is silent, save for the wet sound of his breathing stopping. You stand before the High Seat. The room is vast. Cold. Stone arches rise into shadow. Candles flicker. Smoke curls. The air...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima