The Faded Paradox
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed a dull, rhythmic beat against the high windows of the Hall, a sound like dry bones rattling in a sack. I stood by the hearth, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword, though I had not drawn it in weeks. The fire burned low, casting long, shivering shadows across the stone floor. Outside, the world was grey and weeping. Inside, we were dry, but...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews