The Golden Farce
The stone archway stood at the edge of the city, a silent sentinel carved from the white limestone of the hills, enduring the centuries while the men who had built it crumbled into dust. It was a place of permanent witness, indifferent to the blood that stained its base and the prayers that rose from the lips of those who passed beneath it. Here, in the ancient city of Aethelgard, where the air...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 1 Visualizações 0 Anterior