The Wistful Mirror
The stone was cold. Elias pressed his palm against the glass, feeling the chill seep into his marrow, a sensation that had become his constant companion for three months. He was thirty-two years old, the Abbot of Saint Jude’s, and he had come to the chapel to seal the mirror. The plague had taken the lay brothers first, then the novices, leaving only the senior monks and the silence. The air in...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen