The Legend of the Headless Horseman
Written by Kiriona
Chapter 1
The night was cold and bleak and as silent as a graveyard. The full moon cast it's light down upon the desert sands so brightly, one would think it was day. But even so, the sheer stillness and inactivity sent out eerie vibes that sent shivers down the Prince's spine. Every step his horse took, every beat of the horse's hooves against the sand and every movement of the reins in his hands seemed to echo loudly and break the deafening silence.
He mentally cursed himself for staying out so late. Not only was the morbid tranquility of the hour disturb him to no end, but he knew that Farah would be waiting for him to return home… and she wouldn't be happy once he got there. He should have been home hours ago, but was it his fault that his business in the next city over had taken an unexpected turn and his presence there had been required a few hours longer?
He sighed heavily, knowing what he would return home to, and started rehearsing what he would say to his soon-to-be wife in his head. With any luck, he could explain himself smoothly and she would believe him.
As the minutes dragged by, and the Prince slowly drew nearer to his home city of Babylon, he became to immersed in his thoughts of home that he didn't noticed the moon slowly turning from brilliant white to an unearthly orange, to a deep crimson. It was only when his horse suddenly reared up so high that he had to seize the reins and yanks to keep from falling off that he returned to his senses. The horse dropped back down again, but quickly reared up again in fright, despite the Prince's attempts at calming him. It took a good three minutes to finally regain his control of the frightened animal, and only then did his see the environment bathed in crimson light, as if the desert had been bathed in blood.
Needless to say, it unnerved him. A quick glance at the moon told him that it was time to get home. Now. He moved to push the horse into motion again, intending to kick him into a fast sprint that would get him home as quickly as possible… but stopped.
In his path was a jet-black steed, snorting viciously, its eyes red as the moon, focused intently on him as if sizing him up. Sitting atop the steed was a man. He was dressed in black and red with a few pieces of armor on his knees, chest and shoulders. He was broad and muscular, and probably could've easily provided a heavy challenge to the Prince in combat, and completely crushed him in a competition of brute strength.
But that wasn't what intimidated the Prince. No… there was something else about the man that aghast him. His head. Where was his head?!
Unnerved and horrified, the Prince only sat there, staring, wondering if it was only a trick of the light and this stranger was only a phantom. Neither he nor this mysterious horseman moved for what seemed like eternity. Seconds became minutes… the minutes slugged by… the Prince's heartbeat so loudly in his chest it blocked out all other sound. Afraid? Hell yes, he was afraid. Maybe it was foolish of him and this horseman was only an image conjured up by his imagination and the unearthly light the moon was throwing down. But he was out in the middle of nowhere… weaponless… and no way yelling for help.
He bit his lip and kicked himself mentally for not taking his sword with him. He knew he should have, but he'd been running late when he left and had forgotten all about it. If this horseman was indeed real, he was in serious trouble. But maybe… just maybe whatever it was meant no harm. Maybe it was just someone out playing a joke. Yes, a joke… if this was the case, he could just slip past with no problem, and then ride home as fast as he possible could.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the Prince lightly tapped his horse with his boots and the horse started moving forward in a nice slow trot. The horseman did nothing. Slightly more confident now, he gripped his horse's reins tightly, waiting for the perfect moment to start yelling at his horse to move, his eyes trained intently on the rider.
He urged his horse just the slightest bit faster. Still, the horseman did nothing. The prince's anxiety steadily grew as he neared the phantom. Closer and closer… and closer still… until he could've looked the man straight in the eye, head there been eyes there to look into. There, he paused only the slightest second… Time seemed to slow down… the red desert seemed to blur… The Prince could've sworn that the horseman was staring right at him at that moment…
He suddenly let out a loud yell and his horse immediately reacted to it. The animal let out a loud whinny and short forward. But as soon as it did, the horseman's hand when to the long, cruel looking blade it his waist and without a seconds notice, the gleaming blade sliced through the air, missing the Prince's neck by mere inches.
Clearly shaken by this, the Prince kicked his horse into full sprint and darted in the direction of Babylon. But the horseman wasn't about to just let him get away unscathed. He urged his black horse into motion and gave chase and within minutes, he was right on the Prince's tail. The Prince kept snapping his reins, kicking the horse's sides and shouting in order to move quicker, but no matter how fast he galloped, the horseman kept gaining… and gaining…
The Prince bit his lip hard, his eyes focusing intently on the road ahead, however difficult it was too see in the crimson light. He tried to keep his ears trained on the sound of the horseman's galloping, but his heart was pounding so hard, it seemed to drown out all else.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of silver streaking rapidly through the air. With a startled yelp, he ducked, and the horseman's sword once again missed his neck. But he didn't give up. From his position right next to the prince, the horseman swung again… and again… each time missing the Prince by only centimeters.
It was definitely clear at this point that this was no joke. Whoever this man was, whoever this headless horseman was, he was out looking to kill. Had it not been for the Prince's experience being chased by the Dahaka for all those years, he surely would be dead by now.
Thinking quickly, the Prince jerked the reins of his horse and made a hard left, away from the horseman. With some luck, he could gain some extra time and put a little distance between him and the headless man's blade. He glanced over his shoulder. The horseman obviously hadn't expected the Prince to take that course of action, and had been forced to slow and turn his horse. It would take him some time to catch up again, and this gave the Prince a little time to think.
He had to reach Babylon. There, he could shout at the night guard for help and with luck, he would be safe and could return home to Farah. The only problem was going to be getting there…
The Prince glanced over his shoulder again and his heart skipped a beat and leapt into his throat. The horseman had gained ground and was nearly caught up with him again. He once again cursed himself for not having so much as a dagger to defend himself with and once again jerked the reins into a hard left. But the horseman was not one to be foiled twice.
There was a flash of silver and a cry of pain as the horseman's blade slashed clean through the material of the Prince's tunic and into his shoulder, leaving a deep gash. But the Prince didn't let it stop him. He had to get away. He had to reach Babylon.
He got himself back on the path, all the while dodging ruthless swings from the horseman's sword and along the way, he acquired several more minor injuries, though none as serious at the first.
Finally, the city came into view and the Prince's heart leapt. He was nearly there. He was nearly home! Just a little further…
But all of the sudden, everything went black. So black the Prince couldn't see his hand in front of his face. There was a rush of cold air all around him… a sensation of falling… a feeling of foreboding… and just as quickly as it had come, the blackness left. The Prince checked over his shoulder again. The horseman was gone.
Bt just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he looked up, his eyes snapped open and he immediately yanked back on the horse's reins. There sat the Headless Horseman, waiting on the trail ahead of him, just before the city gates, his blade drawn back, waiting…
The Prince panicked at his horse started to stop and skid to a halt. He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping… praying … awaiting the inevitable…
But it never came.
Seconds went by… minutes came and went… and the prince realized that he was still alive. He slowly opened one eye, then the other and looked up in astonishment. The horseman had lowered his blade, and if he had a head, the Prince just knew he would be grinning. But why? Why wasn't he doing what he'd been trying to do all this time?
Before the Prince's mind could register what was happening, the horseman sheathed his blade, snapped the reins of his horse and road away, disappearing into the night. Dumbfounded, the Prince of Persia only sat there, staring back at the trail as the light of the moon slowly turned back to normal. He didn't know what the horseman's interest in killing him was, but he knew, with a certainty he could not explain, that they had not seen the last of each other. And to be honest, he dreaded the day they would meet again.
Well… at least now he had an excuse for being so late.
Kiri: and there you have it! the first chapter of a whole new legend. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and hopefully I had some of you glued to your chairs. Even just a little. If so, then I've done my job as an author and I shall begin the next chapter.
