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The Dragon’s Hoard
Category: Fantasy
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
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.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.