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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
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 garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The end.