The Golden Visit
The candle guttered in the draft that seeped through the stone walls of the scriptorium, casting long, trembling shadows against the vellum. Elias Thorne, a scribe of forty years, pressed his quill into the inkwell, his hand steady despite the hunger that gnawed at his gut. He was forty, and the winter solstice was three days away; if he did not complete the sacred manuscript by then, his...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews