The Wistful Silence

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-19 09:28:23 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, gray curtain that smelled of wet stone and old iron. We had been walking for three days, my brother Silas and I, up the narrow, winding path that led to the high watchtower of Oakhaven. The path was slick with moss, and the air grew colder with every step, biting at our lungs with a sharp, metallic taste. Silas walked ahead of me,...

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