The Faded Chronicle
The ink in Elias’s quill did not dry; it bled. This was the nature of the Court of Valerius, a place where the air was thick with a supernatural haze that made falsehoods physically manifest as dark, spreading stains on the parchment. Elias, a thirty-year-old scribe with hands stained permanently violet, worked by the light of a tallow candle in the Duke’s private scriptorium. He was not...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen