The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 07:11:34 -

The harvest moon rose over the jagged spine of the Blackwood ridge, spilling a cold, silver light across the cobblestones of Oakhaven, a town that seemed to exist in the perpetual twilight between the age of chivalry and the decay of the world. We were gathered in the great hall of the Lord’s manor, a place where the air tasted of stale beeswax and the heavy, metallic tang of old iron, and the...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews