Eleven centuries had passed since the inscription was shaped within the cavernous hollows of the mountain. Ancient ebony figures stood to either side of the archway, armor-clad guardians that marked the threshold between the living and the dead.
It was snowing.
People often mistook the gentle wonder that overcame him when he felt the weight of snowflakes clinging to his thick lashes, landing on his dark amber skin and melting into nothingness. Snowfall was not something that occurred in the