The Golden Myth
The mist does not lift from the valley floor, but instead thickens, a heavy, woolen blanket that swallows the lower terraces of the estate and leaves only the high stone walls and the distant, silhouetted spires of the Keep visible against a sky the color of bruised iron. You are leaving, though you do not yet know where you are going, only that the air tastes of copper and old rain and that...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima