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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
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.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The end.