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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The end.