The Wistful Mountain

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 08:30:03 -

The fog did not rise from the valley floor; it exhaled from the city itself, a thick, grey miasma that smelled of wet wool, rotting timber, and old iron. It swallowed the spires of the cathedral and the gables of the merchant houses, leaving only the sound of wind whistling through the narrow, cobbled streets. In the high tower of the City Watch, Silas Blackwood stood before the window, his...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews