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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
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.
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.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The end.