The Distant Threshold

agregó una foto Literature

2026-08-19 17:46:56 -

The rain did not fall. It hovered. You stood at the edge of the white plain, the mist clinging to your boots like wet wool. Behind you, the city of Ashwick slept under a shroud of grey fog. Ahead, the void waited. It was not empty. It was full of a silence so heavy it pressed against your eardrums. You were twelve years old. You had the look of a soldier who had seen too much war for his age....

0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 1 Views 0 Vista previa