It is in the most mundane of things that true terror can be found.

Walking alone through the woods at night and hearing the wildlife go quiet.

Staring at a task knowing that if you start you HAVE to finish.

Laying in the grass waiting for the guard to pass.

Heartbeat pounding in your ears as all sound fades.

The creak of wood and clank of iron as a chest opens. Echoing in the night.

Not knowing if all the work, the stress, the fear, is worth the risk of dying alone in an enemy camp.

And the worst.

The congratulations of work well done. The well wishes. The looks.

And knowing.

You might have to do it all over again. As others look to you and what you’ve done before.