The Golden Crossing
The sword broke. It snapped clean in the center of the courtyard, the sound like a dry branch under a heavy boot. Marcus dropped the hilt. It clattered against the stone, spinning once before settling. He stood there, breathing hard. The air tasted of iron and wet dust. Around him, the silence was thick. He looked down at his hands. They were steady. Too steady. He flexed his fingers. The skin...
0 Comments 0 Shares 7 Views 0 Reviews