The Pale Dance

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-19 09:03:37 -

The Pale Dance

The oak tree in the center of the Great Hall was not a tree at all, but a sculpture of pale, bleached bone, its branches splayed like the fingers of a god reaching for a sky that did not exist. You stood before it, the dust of the battlefield still clinging to the rough wool of your tunic, the scent of iron and dried blood mixing with the sterile, cold smell of the marble floor. Your sword was...

0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme