The Faded Root

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 05:07:10 -

The Faded Root

The morning air in the Hall of Echoes tasted of iron and old rain. I stood by the window, watching the fog roll in from the valley below, thick and white as wool, swallowing the trees one by one. My uniform was clean, pressed by the hands of servants who no longer looked me in the eye, and the silver buttons on my chest caught the pale light. I was a Captain, or at least the papers said I was....

0 Comments 0 Shares 49 Views 0 Reviews