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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
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.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.