The Faded Ruin

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:04:38 -

The Faded Ruin

The stone was cold. It pressed against my cheek. I remembered the cold. Not the winter cold. That was sharp. This was old. This was the cold of things that had forgotten the sun. We were in the cellar. Or perhaps a vault. The air tasted of iron. And dust. And time. My name is Elias. I am seven years old. My brother, Julian, is twelve. He holds the lantern. The flame is small. It trembles. It is...

0 Comments 0 Shares 6 Views 0 Reviews