I thought I heard something at the very edge of the darkest part of night.
It is a cold windy night; my companions are certain it is the wind.
I am certain- still they have no desire to sally out if there is a problem.
I hear it again.
The words are stretched out like the whisps of hot blown sugar “H-E-L-P…. M-E…
“I will go” I say with not the least bit hesitation.
My closest knight gruffly tells me “our pact is none could ride alone.”
“Then I will trudge out in my wet boots” I say indignantly.
“For someone needs help tonight.” I retort as I pull on my boots.
I embrace the dark tendrils of night.
Then I feel them
Wings flapping in my face.
Crows the size of a small man.
Blocking me and my stalwart companion
“What is the secret word?” I importune.
He is reluctant to speak lightly these words of power.
He knows them. He knows all the words that gain passage.
“It could free the one out there in the cold.
What if it’s a child or a maid?”
There are no words just plaintiff screams.
He says the words; the black wings break apart and a dark dust falls on us.
I run toward the screams
A once white tower now darkened by crows looms ahead
“The words my friend- Scream them at those beasts!”
He screams them with authority.
We trudge through drifts of crow dust.
These are the words I knew – they had been etched in my heart as a boy
” Liberabit Vos!”
At these words, the tower shone white and out walks a lady.
The most beautiful sight I had ever beheld.
She is draped in celestial blue
She looks like a star as she rose into the night
I knew she is free once more.
Her smile of gratitude warms my heart and clears the dark path homeward.
This microfiction is in response to a prompt over at The New World Creative Union
Thanks to Mikomau for the drawing of crows