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Guild of Nightmares

Call me P

By Morgan Christy RickardsPublished 3 years ago 5 min read
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Guild of Nightmares
Photo by John Silliman on Unsplash

P

The light was quickly fading, night fast approaching, and with the dark the Nightmares would surely follow. I ran. I had been stupid, leaving it so late to travel back. I should have stayed in the town, or found a travelling companion. But people would wonder, especially at the unusual cloak and net mask. No, this was my own fault, my stupiditiveness. Oh my, now I’m making up words, I thought to myself.

I could hear the distant howls. No, screeches was a better description. I barged my way through the growth, entering the woods. I just had to run. That was all. I’d done it before, I could do it again. Just run. And keep running. And fast. And not let them catch me. Just run.

My feet were light through the brush and as silent as an assassins. My ingrained stealth was hard to forget. Because I was quiet, I could hear them. They were coming. It sounded like the guild had dispatched a whole horror of them. It was times like these that I regretted leaving. The thought of the constant Nightmares and their hideous riders sent shivers down my spine, reminding me of a song from my childhood.

When the bright sky dims and stills the winds, when silence settles and flowers lose petals, you know what’s coming. It’s time for running.

When it’s time for running, you know what’s coming. Scary tall and scary thin, thickest leather for its skin. No light in its eyes, no hair on its back, where its monstrous rider is sat.

When there’s more than one, you’re truly done, Nightmare by name, Nightmare by nature. No hope of escape for you. They know your sorrows and leave you hollow.

When the bright sky dims and stills the winds, when silence settles and flowers lose petals, you know what’s coming. It’s time for running.

My friends and I sang it to scare each other, not believing that the creatures actually existed. How I now regret my ignorance, as I ran from a horror. They were gaining. And I was slowing. I could feel the distance melting steadily away, as if I could feel the packs stinking breaths down my neck.

My heart skipped a beat when I noticed the light of a fire through the trees. It was only small, but it meant light, heat, and people. Thinking only of escaping my current predicament, I ran towards it. Who the people were did not concern me, I was sure that they would be the lesser of the evils.

The Prince

The net that masked and protected her face was black, as was her whole ensemble. At first I thought she was a very short man, because of her uniquely styled cloak that appeared to be filled with bulk and muscle.

We had all been sitting around our small fire when she came bursting into our camp. As trained soldiers we were all startled, she seemed to appear from nowhere. The woman hadn't made a sound until she was in the light of the fire. We had jumped to our feet and promptly unsheathed our swords, pointing them at the abnormal foe.

Clearly flustered she paced our perimeter, always staying within the light. Not once did she step into the shadows. The trespasser was clearly waiting for something, checking, looking for a sign. It must have been bad news, that we could discern. Especially if she had run from it.

After visibly relaxing, the intruder appeared to finally notice our presence, and the threat that we were to such a criminal. I was unable to see past the netting covering her face but I was sure that I sensed a grin there. That was the moment that I knew we had met before. I couldn't believe I had forgotten, it was a very memorable experience. She had rendered useless a whole guard before any could raise an alarm. I knew she was capable of destroying our small party in no time at all.

I believed her to be mocking us when she raised her arms and splayed her empty hands saying “I surrender.” in a soft, feminine voice. Therefore, I stood frozen with shock and confusion, when she began to pile her weapons up, on the ground at our feet. None of our party moved, mouths hanging ajar as the woman clad in black surprised us all.

Two swords came from her sides, two from her shoulder blades. Two knives from behind her ribs, two from each of her forearms and three from each of her upper arms. From behind her back again, she revealed a small cylinder that extended into a long staff and a razor sharp whip. Next, the obviously well prepared woman undid the belt around her cloak and removed two more hidden blades, before discarding both belt and cloak onto the pile. However, she was not done yet. We all watched as she extracted four thin blades from holsters wrapped around each of her thighs and boots.

Still frozen, I kept my eyes trained on her as she sauntered towards me in her peculiar outfit. It was half leather and half chain-mail, but form fitting. The mail seemed to be covering her joints and the leather the rest of her body. As the cause of my confusion stepped up next to me, she removed another blade from behind her head. It appeared to have fastened her mask. “You don't need long hair, your highness.” she said, completely baffling us all, “You'll be even more handsome with it shorter, don’t worry.” She reassured and cut off my hair with the blade in her hand all to use my tie to refasten her mask before it exposed what was hidden behind it.

She threw her blade to the floor and clicked her heels together before extracting the last of her weapons from the bottoms of her feet. “Call me P.” She chuckled, obviously amused. Probably by the fact that we were all trained warriors, she could have bested at any time and the fact that she had cut the crown prince's hair and received no objection. We were all astounded. “It's short for Prisoner.” Or more likely at her little joke.

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About the Creator

Morgan Christy Rickards

One of my life goals is to have an amazing home library! Love reading and magic and dragons. Want to travel the world. Come explore with me. Let's go on an adventure.

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