The Faded River

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 01:01:52 -

The Faded River

The hall smelled of wet stone and old iron. I stood by the window, my fingers tracing the cold glass. Outside, the rain lashed the courtyard, turning the flagstones into a dark mirror. It had been a year since I left the forge. A year since I last held a hammer. But I was back. Not as a guest. As a judge. "You are late, Master Alden," said the steward. His voice was thin, stripped of warmth. He...

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