The Pale Garden

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-20 14:00:38 -

The Pale Garden

The tower had no name. Only the men called it the Spire. We were sworn to its stone, its cold and unyielding heart, and the darkness that pooled in its highest chamber. I was the Warden. My wife, Elara, was the Flame. We left the lower keep at dawn. The mist clung to the cobblestones like wet wool, heavy and suffocating. Elara walked beside me, her hand warm against my arm. She did not look up...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima