The Golden Echoes
The fog in Oakhaven did not lift; it settled, a gray sludge that choked the cobblestones and swallowed the light by mid-morning. Captain Elias Thorne stood before the apothecary’s counter, his uniform crisp, his spine rigid, his eyes fixed on the glass vial behind the counter. He was forty years old, a man who had served under fire and emerged with his mind intact, but the fever in his daughter...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews