A prompt slicks away in the night... "You're walking home from work one night and taking shortcuts through a labyrinth of dark city alleyways to meet someone on time. Suddenly, a stranger parts the shadows in front of you, comes close and asks you to hold out your palm. You oblige."
Let's do this.
I walked down the muddy streets, hearing the splashing of my already wet sneakers as they hit another puddle. I had my hood drawn up over my chestnut hair, my azure eyes scanning the streets for anything suspicious. It was a habit I'd gotten into over the past few weeks - living in the city was more treacherous than most would think.
I turned down an alleyway, blending myself into the shadows with ease. A lot of movies and books always said that sneaking down an alley as a shortcut was the worst possible idea if you didn't want to get mugged, but through several trials I had learned that this was not the case. It was a bit nerve-wracking, but once you became a part of the murk, most didn't distinguish you from it.
Checking my watch, I furrowed my brow and picked up the pace. I was going to be late - that would be no good. I'd promised to meet with an old friend on the other side of town, but if I wanted to actually be there on time I'd have to start taking more shortcuts.
However, the alleyways all looked the same. I felt sweat trickle down the back of my neck. I might be in a little more trouble if I get turned around in this part of town...I looked up. Up to the darkness of the sky, with its painted, smokey clouds that drizzled a quiet, yet effective rain over the city. It was a beautiful night.
"Excuse me, sir," a ragged voice overtook my attention. I looked to whom I was speaking to. A man, I could only assume, in an ivory cloak, the shadows concealing most of his face, extended a bony, wrinkles hand to me.
"Yes? What is it?" I inquired, more than a little suspicious of this figure.
"Would it...would it be too much to ask for you to..." the rest of his words were uttered far too quiet for anyone to hear. I took a step closer.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" The figure cocked his head.
"Would you hold out your palm for me?" he finally said.
"My palm? Whatever for?"
"I believe you know why, good sir." With a smirk I extended my palm. The man looked at it for a good moment. Afterwards, he stepped back and removed his hood. A tuft of brilliantly blonde hair shined through the darkness. In contrast, his eyes were darker than the night itself.
"Sir Raymond," he greeted me.
"And Sir Clark," I returned in exchange.
"It is so wonderful to see you again!" he chuckled. "Come, come, the Order is awaiting your presence." Sir Clark gestured to a door well-hidden in the shadows. Upon opening the door, an astounding crescendo of chatter and guffaws washed over the two men. They walked in, and closed the door.
It was as any tavern would appear to be - many men sitting at tables with attractive women placing their wooden tankards beside them. A man against the wall singing and playing his lute without a care in the world. Yes, this place, though being in a modern city, emitted the atmosphere of what took place centuries ago. And it was the perfect place to hold a secret club of sorts.
Unlike any other "club," so to say, this was an Order formed by many men and women alike that sought to protect the peace of their beloved city. It had been a long time since I'd been back to this place, and yet the pure aura that I felt here hadn't changed a bit.
"Right this way, Sir Raymond." Sir Clark lead me to one of the tables where two men and a woman sat around a map of the city. They seemed to be discussing something, but all discussion was lost when they glanced up at me.
"Raymond!" A man in a blue cloak and armor exclaimed with a smile. "Brother, it's been so long." He came over and enveloped me in a tight embrace.
"Humes, it has been longer than I ever planned it to be."
"Sir," the woman, clad in inky black armor that matched her short hair, nodded to me. Her brown eyes were calculating and precise, her stance that of someone who shouldn't be messed with.
"Joyce," I nodded back to her. She wasn't one for...physical contact.
"You just being here is a driving force, Sir Raymond." An older man with a beard and glasses over his grey eyes came to shake my hand. We shook.
"I can't say it feels like I'm any such thing, Sir Gregory. With a failed attack on the closest thing we had to victory..."
"That was a noble battle you fought. Regardless of what they say, you served extraordinarily well against our foes."
"Speaking of," Humes pointed to the map. "We were deciding on where our next attack shall be. Since attacking Central Command was a failure, mostly due to them having more power than we expected, I feel it would be wise to lay low and take over some of the smaller villages that are held hostage."
"But I feel that another head-on attack would serve us well, Sir." Joyce interrupted. "They won't be expecting anything of the sort, correct? Attack while their guard is down!"
Humes sighed. "My lady, this isn't just a game. They will be expecting anything and everything from us. Another attack with our limited forces and their unlimited forces will only lead us into the ditch where they think we belong."
"But-"
"I'm afraid I have to side with Humes on this one, Lady Joyce. Look around you - these are most, if not all of the soldiers we have left in the Order. Our numbers are dwindling." I reasoned. She looked around the tavern.
"I suppose your right. Perhaps, then, if we go around saving villages, we could advertise that we are in need of new members, but only for those who wish to volunteer."
"A wonderful idea!" Humes chortled. "Many young boys and girls could feel inspired by the heroes that saved their home! What do you think, Raymond?" I pondered the thought.
"Well, it certainly is better than forcing anyone to join us, like they do. I'm all in for it. Sir Gregory? You're the veteran here - is this strategy good?"
"Hmm," Sir Gregory nodded his head. "It's certainly coming along. Of course, we need to sort out the finer details of which village to save first, and how desperate they are for rescue, and how many forces to take with us, but this idea is definitely -"
"Kids, it's time to go!" The voice of my mother broke the illusion of the tavern. In truth, we were all sitting around a dusty old table with a piece of construction paper and some pencil crayons. We wore armor that you'd find at Value Village in the costume section, and each of us had the surprised, yet disappointed look in our eyes.
"Aww, can't we play just a little longer? Greg's just finishing his wisdom speech!" I called back up to her.
"No, Raymond, it's far too late now. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to finish playing another day." I pouted.
"It's okay Ray," Humes patted me on the back, the dimples in his chubby cheeks accenting when he smiled. "The Order is always at work, even when we're not, right?"
"Right..." I said, still a little sad.
"Humph. Well, the Order is just going to have to wait for us until it does anything. We are its founding members, after all." Joyce crossed her arms.
"Yeah!" Humes agreed. "We'll pick it up tomorrow, okay? I gotta go home soon anyway. It's almost time for dinner."
"Okay, but you gotta promise." I held out my palm. Humes squeezed my hand.
"Promise!"
I watched as we all went our separate ways; Joyce was picked up by her sister, Humes his mother and father, and Greg his grandfather. The adults talked long enough for us all to already start planning what we would do on our next meetup. The Order never truly stopped working, even when the warriors were at rest.
I liked how this turned out. My only comment for this one shall be that I've been watching a lot of Game of Thrones lately. No spoilers - I just started Season 4 (It's a work in progress).
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