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The Last Enchantress
Category: Fantasy
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
He was the kind of man who kept his word, even when it cost him.
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.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
The end.