The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 16:41:20 -

The small, tarnished silver locket in my left hand weighed almost nothing, yet it felt like a stone dragged from the riverbed, heavy with the mud of three years’ service. I sat in the trench outside Aethelgard, the mud sucking at my boots with a wet, rhythmic pull, and watched the shadow detach itself from the wall of the keep. It was not a trick of the light, nor the smoke from the burning...

0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews