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The Last Crusade
Category: Historical
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
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 letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The end.