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Empire’s Fall
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
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.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The end.