The Pale Echo

أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature

2026-08-18 15:55:45 -

The Pale Echo

The rain slicked the cobblestones. It was a cold, grey dawn. I stood before the High Warden. My hand rested on the pommel of my sword. The metal was warm. My palm was wet. Warden Silas looked at me. His eyes were pale. Like winter ice. He did not blink. "You are late, Thomas," he said. His voice was soft. It cut through the stone hall. "I am here," I replied. My voice was steady. It was the...

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