The Faded Chronicle

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 19:05:46 -

The ink was wet. It always was. I wiped my hand on my tunic, leaving a black smear on the pale wool. My name is Elias. I am the Archivist of the Silent Hall. Or I was. I do not care for the past tense. It feels like a shackle I have not yet broken. The room smelled of mildew and old parchment. The air was thick, heavy with the weight of centuries of secrets. I stood in the center of the...

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