The Shadow Knights
A murder. Jump.
The Shadow Knights came at the witching hour. They rode on their black stallions, clad in black armor, the angry bray of horses and the clank of metal announcing their presence. There would be no negotiation or peace treaty. Boys and men were their bounty, and the rest were merely obstacles. I knew because my father had been taken to serve in the Black King’s army. I escaped to a neighboring village. My mother and sisters were not so lucky.
When I arrived, distraught at the doorstep of a fortune teller, she cared for me, and we waited in fear together for the Shadow Knights. The woman considered running, as some of her countrymen did, but she said escape was a temporary reprieve that gave false hope. Our destiny was intertwined with those death dealers, those agents of darkness, snuffing out light wherever it dared to offer warmth.
I told the fortune teller I needed assurances. Maybe with an eye toward the future she could find a solution, or some greater magic to destroy the dark demons. She took my hand, looked into the seeing stone, her eyes turned cobalt-gray, and her face became drawn down and wrinkled. When she finally spoke it only brought more anxiety.
“A murder. Jump. Descent into darkness. The end is near — yes — fade into black. Jump. A murder,” she said.
“Why do you say these things?” I asked.
“I’m afraid the Black King clouds my ability. But there is something that runs in your bloodline, deep and ancient, ready to be awakened. Do you know magic?”
“You’re talking nonsense. I need to leave. The Shadow Knights can’t be far behind.”
She packed me enough food for the following day’s journey and asked me to rest one evening so my energy could carry me far away from the nightmare. I agreed but could not sleep and decided to travel by the moon. I took the satchel of supplies, careful not to wake the fortune teller, and walked toward the eastern sea to find a boat.
On the outskirts of the village, I heard the faint sound of hooves pounding the dirt and screams that carried on the wind. All went silent except for the shouts of the fortune teller.
“A murder! Jump!” she screamed.
I ran.
Once into the forest, I stopped to catch my breath and listen. Nocturnal creatures stirred. With every rustle of leaves or aching creak from the old Willow trees, I expected a black gauntlet to reach out and pull me into a trance. To look into a Shadow Knight’s orange glowing eyes set deep inside its horned helmet meant my fate would be sealed.
When I heard the sound of the ocean, it gave me renewed confidence and energy, inviting me to continue. I picked up the pace and prayed for a fishing boat to be docked and at the ready. Stealing it would cause me no guilt, and I convinced myself that the boat’s owner, on hearing of my situation, would be happy to part with it. This grand delusion evaporated when I spotted a Shadow Knight watching in the distance. Two more joined the first and I froze. I had no sword, no weapon or shield to defend myself.
A murder. Jump.
I dropped the satchel of food, cast off my cloak and fled. The horses stirred and spit flames from their nostrils, fires stoked and ready to burn my flesh and bones to ash. I darted in between trees and ducked beneath low hanging branches, careful not to let one knock me unconscious. Being nimble gave me an advantage over the beasts trying to navigate the thick forest. An outright gallop was impossible, and I found myself gaining a lead.
The sound of the ocean waves grew louder, but it did not remind me of the soft, peaceful motion over the sandy lakeside. Instead, it signaled impending doom, the hard crash of water across jagged rocks at the foot of a cliffside.
A clearing opened, which led to the cliff’s edge and an unsurvivable drop. The fortune teller’s words offered me only two options: the murder of my soul, to be imprisoned forever by dark forces, or to jump to my death. I stood at the precipice as the Shadow Knights came into view, spreading out to prevent escape. I would have to give into the madness or end it all on the rocks, washed out with the tide.
A murder. Jump.
Over the sound of thunderous waves below, I heard a faint cry from the treetops. I could barely make out a flock of birds that rested on the limbs, an audience to watch and give testimony to my demise. Their call grew louder, a familiar noise that appeared to upset the horses, their front hooves rising into the air.
A few of the birds swooped in front of the Shadow Knights, who drew their swords, tempers raging, ready to strike with fury. Hundreds of birds landed between me and the horses, nestled into the long grass, heads barely visible, and I finally understood. So did the knights, who raced forward to capture their prize.
A murder. Jump.
The birds flew up in mass toward me as my heels dangled at the edge. I could go no further and had to time the action perfectly. At last, I jumped backward while the Shadow Knights rushed headlong, incapable of judging the distance due to the cloud of wings and feathers in their path.
The murder of crows carried me off in a magical flight and I glimpsed the Shadow Knights tumbling over the cliff. Their armor shattered, revealing nothing underneath, and the orange glow behind their helmets extinguished.
I knew who sent the crows. The White Wizard. We would meet soon, and I would train and plan to rescue all of the Shadow Knights from damnation, including my father.
The Black King had other plans.
Dear Reader
This is flash fiction (a short story under 1000 words), and it’s based upon a prompt given during the Fictionistas Great Substack Prompt Challenge. If you want to connect with other authors and find motivation to write more fiction, then I suggest you check out the group run by
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I love the word play on "murder of crows!" Well woven, intricate short story.
You caught me by surprise with the play on words! ;)