The Faded Frontier
The chandelier in the Great Hall of the Ministry of Heritage swayed with a faint, hypnotic rhythm, casting long, fractured shadows across the faces of three hundred guests in their finest evening wear. Elias Thorne stood near the base of the spiral staircase, holding a glass of champagne he had not touched, watching the Director, a man named Alistair Vane, toast the centennial of the National...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews