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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The end.