The Distant Whispers
The road into the city of Aethelgard was a ribbon of grey dust that stretched out before me like a scar on the skin of the earth, and I walked it with a heavy heart, carrying in my satchel the only thing that mattered, which was a loaf of bread so old it had turned to stone, wrapped in a cloth that had once been white but was now the color of dried blood and winter ash. I was the last of the...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen