The Wistful Ashes

adicionou um novo artigo Literature

2026-08-19 20:22:57 -

The Wistful Ashes

The feast was silent. Candles burned. Wine flowed. I sat. I watched. The hall was grand. Stone. Cold. The air smelled of wax. And fear. Lord Valerius sat at the head. He ate. He spoke. I did not eat. I held the cloak. It was wool. Heavy. Black. It belonged to him. No. It belonged to no one. It was a thing. A weight. I carried it. Always. The guests were pale. They looked at me. I looked at the...

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