The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 12:09:16 -

The Wistful Petal

The soup had been cold for three days. It sat in the chipped ceramic bowl on the mahogany desk, a stagnant pool of greyish-brown broth that smelled faintly of iron and old wool. I did not drink it. I had not drunk it since the morning the High Council had summoned me to the Hall of Echoes. I simply watched the surface, where a single, translucent petal floated. It was not a petal from a flower...

0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews