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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
A knock at the door changed everything.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.