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The Last Crusade
Category: Historical
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
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.
The end.