Skip to content
The Highlander’s Quest
Category: Historical
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The end.