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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
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 letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.