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The Dragon’s Hoard
Category: Fantasy
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
A knock at the door changed everything.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.