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The Last Crusade
Category: Historical
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.