The Faded Ruin
The ink in your quill has frozen into a black sludge, a mirror of the debt that binds you to the Order of Saint Jude. You are Elias, a scholar of thirty-four years, and you sit alone in the crumbling library of the Abbey of St. Jude’s, the year 1402 pressing in on you like a coffin lid. Your breath fogs in the thin air, a ghostly warning that the cold is not merely seasonal but existential, a...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews