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The Last Crusade
Category: Historical
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.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
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.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.