The Pale Echo
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a silence so profound it seemed to crack the very foundations of the stone hall. You were standing in the center of the Great Hall of Ashworth Manor, the air thick with the scent of wet wool and the stale, yeasty breath of the winter, when the sound of your own heart became the loudest thing in the world. It was a heavy, rhythmic thud, like a mallet...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima