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The Dragon’s Hoard
Category: Fantasy
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
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.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.