The Faded Shield
The house at the edge of the moor was not a home but a fortress of silence, its stone walls thick enough to swallow the wind and the light alike. It stood in the shadow of an age where the law was written not on paper but in the marrow of the earth, and where the people who lived within it were bound by debts that predated their very names. Here, the air tasted of wet wool and old iron, a...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews