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Sword of Destiny
Category: Historical
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The end.