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The Crystal Sword
Category: Fantasy
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
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 garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.