دانلود رمان انگلیسی “برونهیلد، اژدهاکش”، جلد. 1

A violent storm tore through the quiet of the night. Such weather was unusual for this place. The raindrops striking the window glass were as loud as machine-gun fire. The howling wind was so turbulent it threatened to reduce the man’s simple home to rubble. He was alone in his hut. The dark glass of the window poorly reflected his visage. He appeared to be in his thirties, though his hair was stark white. His robe, a similar shade of white, bore an antiquated pattern. His eyes were an icy blue. The humble room was adorned with simple furniture and illuminated by the warm glow of hearthfire. The man sat on a stool before a half-finished painting. His gaze shifted to the window, but it was pitch-black outside. He couldn’t see a thing. The heavy rain, the dark of night, and the shaded glass made for the perfect storm. But the man continued to stare out the window. He wasn’t as concerned with what he could and couldn’t see. The mere act of looking out the window was enough to fuel his creative process—it gave him the power to imagine. Upon the canvas, he had painted a sunny sky over a grassy field—and a girl standing at the center in an unsullied white dress. His brush hand worked tirelessly. It was as if his eyes truly beheld the girl in the grassy field through the window. Then there came a loud bang. Something had crashed into the glass. Something red.