The Wistful Skyline
The mortar shell did not explode. It landed in the courtyard of the chateau, burying itself in the wet clay with a soft, final thud that sounded less like violence and more like a heavy book closing. You stood in the doorway of the library, your hands trembling so violently that you could not close the leather binding of the codex in your arms. The air smelled of sulfur and old paper, a pungent...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen