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The Crystal Sword
Category: Fantasy
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The end.