The Pale Protocol
1342, October 14th. The frost has not yet touched the glass of my window, but the cold is already in the bones of the tower. I am Elias, forty-two years old, and for twenty years I have served as the Court’s Pale Reader. My duty is singular and terrible: I see the color of a man’s impending death. It is a gift that costs a day of my memory for every use. I have traded my childhood for my...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews