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The Crystal Sword
Category: Fantasy
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
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 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.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The end.