A voice was calling me, I don't know who it was. Come here, come here it whispered. As I walked out of the forest, the smell of burned flesh got stronger and stronger. I just don't want to come nearby that fire, afraid of what would wait for me. Even I don't want to go, I still walked forward. Then I saw it, I saw a hill with a hundred men, women, and children still burning from the big fire of last night. And then the thought came to me, in my head. I know she is here, and I know she is one of them.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The duty of love
Ficción HistóricaA story with multiple narrators who each have their struggles and difficulties, from the high lords to the working class.
