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Sword of Destiny
Category: Historical
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
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 market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.