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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.