The Pale Path
The marble is cold under your knees. You are Elias, thirty-two, a captain in the Imperial Guard, and you are dying. The hilt of your sword is slick with sweat, your knuckles white, but the blade is already broken, snapped clean at the guard where you drove it into the stone in a desperate, futile parry. You want to survive. You want to walk out of this throne room, past the shattered statues of...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima