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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
A knock at the door changed everything.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity.
The end.