Cherreads

The Traveler: When the World Ends or Begins Again

Knight_Boy_2404
The wind had no master in this part of the world. It blew where it pleased—dragging with it the scent of dry bones, scorched metal, and sunburnt regret. Beyond the crumbling rocks and sand-swept ruins, a lone figure approached. The earth gave a soft crunch beneath his boots—weathered leather with soles worn nearly to nothing. A wide-brimmed hat shielded his eyes, and a long, tattered coat fluttered behind him like the wings of a dying bird. He was not tall. Not short either. There was not
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