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The Dragon’s Hoard
Category: Fantasy
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.