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Crown of Thorns
Category: Historical
A knock at the door changed everything.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
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.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.