The Faded Portrait

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 21:31:23 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain woven from the breath of the dying city, shrouding the cobblestones of Oakhaven in a perpetual, suffocating damp. Sir Thomas Bradshaw stood at the threshold of the Watchtower, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that had not tasted blood in twenty years, yet felt heavier than it had in his youth. He was not a man of grand gestures,...

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