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Sword of Destiny
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
A knock at the door changed everything.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The end.