The Wistful Saga

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-21 10:18:38 -

The Wistful Saga

The bell rang. Three times. A low, wet sound that hung in the air of the Great Hall. It was not a call to prayer. It was a call to judgment. I stood by the pillar. My hand trembled. Not from fear. From cold. The stone was cold. The air was colder. It smelled of damp wool and old blood. I looked at the floor. The tiles were black and white. A checkerboard. I counted them. One. Two. Three. Four....

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