The Distant Blade
The frost on the windows of the Oakhaven Municipal Archive was not merely cold, but heavy, a thick rime that seemed to press against the glass from the outside, as if the winter itself were trying to keep out what was happening within. Elias Thorne, a junior archivist of forty-two years, stood before the central desk, his fingers trembling as he reached for a leather-bound ledger from the year...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen