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Crown of Embers
Category: Fantasy
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The end.