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The Crystal Sword
Category: Fantasy
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
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 stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The end.