The Ruins Of Mist And A Lone Swordsman (Recommended · HANDBOOK)

There is a particular kind of silence found only in ruins. It is not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of held breath. It is the sound of stone remembering the weight of walls, of archways grieving the shadows of doors that no longer exist.

Twenty paces away, he spoke without turning. the ruins of mist and a lone swordsman

He stood at the far end of what might have been a great hall. The mist parted around him as if it knew him—or feared him. He wore no armor, only a tattered grey cloak and the simple, devastating geometry of a blade at his hip. A lone swordsman. There is a particular kind of silence found only in ruins

He did not move. He did not turn.