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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
A knock at the door changed everything.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The end.