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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
The stars that night seemed closer than they had any right to be.
A knock at the door changed everything.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
The end.