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The Spellweaver
Category: Fantasy
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.
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 not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
There were stories told of this place, and none of them ended well.
A knock at the door changed everything.
The end.