The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:38:43 -

The arrow bit deep. I felt the shaft shudder against my ribs, a cold vibration that traveled down to my hips. I did not scream. I had forgotten how. The air tasted of iron and wet ash. I pulled the arrow free. The pain was a bright white star, sharp and absolute. I held the blood in my hand. It was warm. It was red. I am Elara. I am the Keeper of the Spire. This is my body. It is my burden. The...

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