The Night Holds Its Breath
"Then stop wasting breath on fear, old man. Doubt makes your hand tremble before the fight even begins."
The soldier lowered his head, silent. A quiet "understood" slipped out, then nothing - just stillness thickening the air more than it had been.
Footsteps of the rider's mount stirred dust on rock. From its nostrils came a sharp puff - sudden in the thin space between cliffs. Breath hung heavier now, like peaks above had drawn closer without moving.
Then, a younger soldier spoke up, his voice carrying a fragile mix of respect and unease. "Forgive me, my lord, but… why here? There are easier ways into the kingdom. Why choose this pass?"
Back arched slightly, the leader gazed upward just as the moon emerged from drifting cloud cover. Light pooled along the edge of his cloak, outlining his face with a pale glow.
ChatGPT said:
"Because," he said quietly, voice steady as stone, "this place is both forgotten… and watched."
