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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
A knock at the door changed everything.
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.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
A cold wind swept across the plain, carrying with it the scent of distant rain.
The end.