The Golden Ritual
The quill snaps in your hand, the ink spraying across the white stone of the Great Hall floor like a dark, viscous wound. You are Elias, thirty-four years old, and for the first time in your life, you are truly afraid. Lord Vane stands above you, his shadow falling across the steps of the dais, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the jeering of the crowd. He has accused you of falsifying...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews