MOONLIT LOVE

The night sky glowed an eerie red, the once peaceful town of Highridge consumed by flames. Lady Isabella clutched the side of the chariot, her heart pounding as the chariot hurtled down the rough path. Beside her, her maid, Alice, trembled in fear, her hands gripping her skirts tightly. The sound of distant battle, of steel clashing and men screaming, filled the air. “Alice, hold on,” Isabella whispered, her voice filled with both fear and determination. She glanced back at her burning home, the smoke rising like a twisted column into the darkened sky. The memory of her family’s screams echoed in her ears, but there was no time to mourn now. They had to survive. “They’re gaining on us!” Alice’s voice trembled as she pointed behind them. Isabella turned and saw them—King Malcolm’s men, their black horses and dark armor blending into the night like death itself. Their faces were obscured by helmets, and in their hands, arrows gleamed, ready to strike. “Faster!” one of the guards riding alongside the chariot yelled to the driver. But Isabella knew it wouldn’t be enough. The enemy was closing in. An arrow sliced through the air, grazing one of the guards, and Isabella gasped. They wouldn’t make it unless something was done. She looked to her loyal protectors, knowing what they were thinking before they even spoke. “We’ll hold them off, my lady,” one of the guards said, his voice calm despite the danger. “No!” Isabella cried, reaching out toward them, but the guards had already made their decision. “For your safety!” another guard called back, turning his horse toward the pursuers. “Go!” Alice let out a sob, clutching Isabella’s arm. “What will we do?” “We have to trust them,” Isabella whispered, though her heart was breaking. She watched as her guards bravely charged toward the enemy, their swords raised. The chariot surged forward, the horses galloping faster as the sounds of the battle behind them began to fade. But they hadn’t escaped yet. Just as a brief moment of hope flickered, a sharp thud rang out. Isabella’s eyes widened in horror as an arrow struck one of the lead horses. The animal screamed, rearing back in pain, and the entire chariot lurched off course. Alice shrieked, clinging to Isabella as the chariot veered wildly through the forest. The driver shouted in vain, pulling at the reins, but the wounded horse dragged the others with it, crashing through trees and bushes, careening dangerously close to the cliffside. “Hold on!” Isabella cried, her grip tightening as the chariot sped toward the canyon’s edge. The ground gave way beneath them. For a split second, time seemed to stop. Isabella saw the sheer drop below, felt the terror in Alice’s grip, and then everything fell into chaos. The horses, the driver, the chariot—all were pulled into the abyss. Isabella’s body was thrown through the air, her scream lost in the wind as the world spun out of control. The chariot smashed against the rocks below, a deafening crash that echoed through the canyon as splinters of wood and metal flew in all directions. Then, there was silence. --- At the top of the canyon, the remaining soldiers of King Malcolm’s group pulled their horses to a halt, their breaths coming hard and fast. They peered over the edge, their expressions dark as they looked at the shattered remains of the chariot far below. One of the men dismounted and stepped to the edge cautiously, the jagged rocks crumbling beneath his feet. He squinted, his eyes trying to make out any signs of life, but the fall was too great. The wreckage below was a mess of broken wood and bloodied horses. “No one could survive that,” one soldier muttered, shaking his head. Another, the leader of the group, nodded. “We’ll report back that Lady Isabella is dead. The fall would have killed them all.” The men exchanged glances, silently agreeing. None of them wanted to venture down the treacherous cliffside. The height alone was enough to convince them that the job was done. “Let’s go,” the leader said, pulling on his reins. “King Malcolm will be pleased.” With a final glance at the ruined chariot, the soldiers turned their horses around, leaving the canyon and its deadly silence behind. ---