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Throne of Thorns
Category: Fantasy
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
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.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The end.