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The Crystal Sword
Category: Fantasy
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
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.
A knock at the door changed everything.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The end.