The Wistful Throne

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-21 14:57:09 -

The cart wheels bit into the red clay. They ground. Dust rose. It was thick. It was grey. It settled on my coat. It settled on my hair. The sun was high. It was white. It burned. I did not look up. I kept my eyes on the road. The road was straight. The road was endless. We were moving south. The border was near. The guards were waiting. I knew this. I had heard the rumors. The town of Oakhaven...

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