Skip to content
The Eternal Flame
Category: Fantasy
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.