The Wistful Incense
The ledger in my hand smelled of sulfur and old copper, a scent that had permeated the fibers of my tweed coat and the very pores of my skin during the three days I had spent in the Guild’s subterranean archives, cataloguing the forbidden texts that were to be incinerated to settle the Guild’s annual debt to the unseen forces that governed our city. I am Elias Thorne, an archivist of forty...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima