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Empire’s Fall
Category: Historical
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The end.