Skip to content
The Dragon’s Hoard
Category: Fantasy
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The end.