The Distant Ghost

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-18 17:16:38 -

The Distant Ghost

The rain fell on the ramparts of Aethelgard not as water but as a fine, cold mist that clung to the wool of my cloak and seeped into the bones of the ancient stone, a persistent dampness that felt less like weather and more like the breath of the earth itself trying to pull us down into the soil where the dead lay sleeping. I stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching the last of the refugees...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima