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The Eternal Flame
Category: Fantasy
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.