The Golden Quest

أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature

2026-08-20 04:17:29 -

The Golden Quest

The cold was a living thing here. It pressed against the shutters of my cell, seeking the cracks, seeking the warmth of my blood. I sat on the stone floor, my back against the rough-hewn wall. The air smelled of damp earth and old wood. Outside, the wind howled through the branches of the great oak. I knew that tree. I had seen it from the window of my old home, miles away, before the sickness...

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