The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 05:37:57 -

The fire started in the west wing, but it was my brother’s face that burned in my mind. I stood in the courtyard, the cobblestones slick with a rain that smelled of sulfur and old blood, watching the flames lick at the rafters of the Blackstone Keep. We were soldiers of the Order of the Silver Veil, bound by oaths older than the kingdom itself, and yet here we were, reduced to shadows dancing...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews