The Distant Clue
The cart wheels groaned against the frost-hardened earth, a rhythmic, grinding complaint that echoed through the high, cold air of the Vale of Aethelgard. Thomas, the youngest of the three brothers, sat huddled in the back, his fingers wrapped around a clay vessel filled with the morning’s harvest of starlight, a substance that glowed with a faint, pulsing blue luminescence, warm to the touch...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare