Nocturnal Psychosis

My mole started talking to me.  It claimed to be demonic.  It claimed to have special wisdom that could help me.  If I believed its first statement, then I shouldn’t believe its second.  Maybe it would be better if I listened to my elbow, since it was starting to whisper something helpful sounding.

I shook my head.  Guard duty was definitely getting to me.  That weird hour leading up to the sun’s fiery orb breaking over the jagged mountains to the north east was always the worst.  This was the time that some had sworn they’d seen a unicorn skirting the battlements.  All I could see was a naked guy slipping through the stairwell door.

Naked guy?

I strained my wits for another few seconds to make sure I was certain of what I thought I’d seen.  Then I pulled my horn and blew a medium set of staccato notes.  I ran for the door.  A glance over my shoulder confirmed my replacement had just arrived to make sure a distraction didn’t create a breach in coverage.  When I traveled the stair fast, the clatter was enormous.  I gritted my teeth at the noise letting any ambushes know exactly where I was.  After hitting the bottom, I held my breath and froze for a silent count of twenty.  No sounds of bare feet on the inner courtyard.  No sounds above traveling up the stair after my loud passing.  I breathed out and let things clatter a bit as I scouted the morning frost on the stones.  I held my metal armor plates still and quietly stepped back onto the stair.  At each nook I paused to listen for breathing.

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