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Empire’s Fall
Category: Historical
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
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.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
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.