The Wistful Witness
The stone of the Blackkeep damp and cold against Elias Thorne’s spine. He sat in the corner of his quarters, a steel gauntlet resting in his lap. The metal hummed, a low, vibrating note that traveled up his arm and settled in his teeth. It was a sound only he could hear, a residue of the fortress’s ancient, whispering iron. For three years, Elias had served the Grand Duke, a silent sentinel in...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior