Skip to content
The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
A knock at the door changed everything.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The map was old, its edges frayed, but the path it showed was unmistakable.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The end.