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The Heart of the Storm
Category: Fantasy
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
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.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.