The Golden Mirror
The fog had not lifted from the valley for three weeks, a thick, briny shroud that swallowed the iron spires of the foundry and blurred the line between the soot-stained sky and the muddy earth below. I stood in the shadows of the Grand Hall, my form shifting, unstable, a ripple in the heavy air that the men in their stiff collars and heavy boots could not quite resolve into a face. I was not a...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2 Views 0 önizleme