The Golden Oath
The carriage wheels groaned against the packed earth of the King’s road, a rhythmic, metallic complaint that seemed to mimic the grinding of my own joints as we ascended the hill toward the Spire. The air in the valley below was thick with the scent of wet stone and rotting leaves, but here, at the threshold of the institution known as the House of Equilibrium, the atmosphere shifted. It became...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews