The Wistful Dinner
The letter from the Guild of Cartographers arrived on a Tuesday, sealed with black wax that cracked under Elias Thorne’s thumbnail. He read the denial of his supply request twice, the ink dry and final, before folding it into the pocket of his wool coat. Outside, the mist in the valley of Oakhaven was thick enough to chew, swallowing the pines and the stone bridge in a grey uniform. Elias was...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews