The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 13:10:38 -

The great hall of King Aethelgard’s fortress, Highspire, was a cavern of stone and shadow, illuminated by a thousand tallow candles that burned with a pale, sickly light. I stood before the dais, my knees knocking together in a rhythm that matched the frantic beating of my heart. I was Elias, the Royal Scribe, forty years old, and I had come to beg for my own permanence. The Midwinter Feast was...

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