The Faded Shield
Elias. The word hung in the mud, sharp as a snapped twig. It was not a call of affection. It was a command from Alderman Vane, whose boots were caked in the same grey slurry that stuck to Elias’s shins. The town of Oakhaven hummed beneath their feet, a low, vibrating thrum that lived in the stones and the air, binding every soul to its word. Twelve years old, Elias stood in the center of the...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 5 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen