The Wistful Mirror

σε πρόσθεσε στο Literature

2026-08-18 08:23:16 -

The carriage stops at the iron gates of the Palace of Winds. You do not look up. You look down at your hands. They are trembling. Not from the cold. The air is dry. It smells of ozone and crushed stone. Your hands are shaking because you are still wearing your mother’s ring. It is gold. It is warm. It burns against your skin like a coal. You are Edward Ashworth. You are no one. You are a ghost...

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