The Golden Mirror
The rain fell in sheets of grey silk, blurring the stone walls of the keep until they seemed to breathe, a slow, wet respiration that matched the rhythm of your own heavy heart as you stood on the battlements. You were not merely a soldier, though the armor clung to your body like a second, colder skin; you were a question that the Kingdom of Aethelgard had not yet learned to answer. In your...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima