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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.