Skip to content
Crown of Embers
Category: Fantasy
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
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.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.