Skip to content
The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.