The Golden Quest
The departure from the Hall of Mirrors was not marked by a trumpet blast or a tearful farewell, but by the slow, grinding silence of a door closing on a world that had already ceased to exist. Silas Vane stood at the threshold, his hand still resting on the cold iron bar, feeling the vibration of the mechanism beneath his fingertips, a tremor that ran up his arm and settled, heavy and cold, in...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews