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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.