The Faded Ruin

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:30:59 -

The Faded Ruin

The feast was not a celebration of joy, but of endurance. It was held in the high, vaulted hall of the Citadel, a place of white stone that had lost its whiteness to the soot of a thousand years. The air smelled of roasting pork and stale sweat, of incense that tried to mask the scent of the iron cages in the courtyard. I sat at the long table, my hands folded in my lap, watching the steam rise...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews