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The Last Crusade
Category: Historical
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
A knock at the door changed everything.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The end.