The Distant Whispers

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-20 11:38:00 -

The iron gates of Aethelgard City groaned open under the weight of the dawn. Sir Julian Vane stood before the High Warden. The air smelled of wet stone and old blood. It was a smell Julian had come to know better than his own scent. He did not speak. He did not beg. He simply waited. The High Warden was a man of few words and many scars. His name was Cassius. He sat on a throne of black oak,...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima