The Distant Temple
The fire does not roar; it whispers, a dry, rustling sound that steals the color from the world until only ash and silence remain. You stand at the edge of the chasm where the village used to be, your breath hitching in a throat constricted by shock and the peculiar, cold clarity that follows disaster. You are young, barely old enough to be trusted with the heavy iron key to the library, yet...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews