The Golden Oath
The dream was of iron. Not the cold, dead metal of a horseshoe, but the warm, pulsing red of a forge. Edward saw the hammer fall. Again. And again. The rhythm was the heartbeat of the world. It was the only law he knew. In the dream, he was young. His shoulders were broad, unburdened by the ache that now lived in his spine like a second skeleton. He swung the hammer. The sparks flew like golden...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme