Arcadia could not have stifled the laughter that leapt from her throat even if she had wanted to, not that anyone was there to hear it. If there had been, if some genis had wandered out into the winding paths that cut through dense forest that surrounds Vehja, she was moving much too fast to be well listened to. All they would have heard would have been the thunderous pounding of approaching hooves, massive and driving through these winding and tree-lined paths. Despite the fact that she could not be heard, it is a pity that no one was there to see, as the image of her atop Raze and hurtling through the Vehjan wilderness is a sight to behold.
Firstly, Arcadia’s Farukon heritage means she is quite light weight, and so Raze can move almost as if unmounted. She is slim, but lined with lithe muscle, which is good because it takes every ounce of strength she has to keep herself upon Raze’s back when he’s galloping at this rate. She is hunched, stand-squatting in the stirrups of the saddle, holding the reins loosely and allowing Raze to take the lead on their circuit through the forest. The other thing her Farukon ancestry means is that she must keep the large, feathered wings anchored high on her back, near the shoulder blades, at just the right angle so as to not slow Raze, nor eject herself from the saddle on his back.
Secondly, they are creatures of opposites, juxtapositional partners in a tradition older than either of them. Arcadia is slight, narrow, angular and sleek. Her skin, pale and freckled heavily beneath her piercing yellow eyes shines brightly with each shaft of sunlight that manages to break through the heavy tree cover. Her hair, a halfway point between her father’s fire-touched red and her mother’s flaxen white, was tied neatly in a long braid at the beginning of the ride but now dances freely in the wind, between her wings and down to the narrow curve of her waist. She is clad in standard uniform of her station, a rough spun, wide sleeved shirt, dark leather riding pants, tall, thick soled riding boots, and a single, ornately adorned leather pauldron and harness.
Raze, on the other hand, is massive. A six legged Vehjan Stallion, standing near ten feet tall at the tips of his ears and twelve feet long from his steam snorting nose to the tip of the longest hair in his tail. He is over four thousand pounds of muscle and power and sweat and fur. His head is lowered and pulsing back and forth with the rhythm of the thundering of his hooves. His sleek hide is a black so deep, one could get lost within the vastness of it, it is voidal and schismic in depth. With each length galloped, the rippling muscles of his chest and haunches flex and push and strain and recoil. He runs like freedom, like the world is nothing but openness and resistance does not exist, like a spirit of power and strength.
They are bonded, these two, as if they shared a single soul between the two of them. Raze has been in Arcadia’s care since he was born and she has spent the better part of every day for the past eight years training him, grooming him, rearing him, and breaking him. For that is what she is, a Breaker, and the trust they share is ironclad, immovable and unshakeable.
Up ahead, Arcadia sees another turn, a switchback that Raze has had difficulty with in previous circuits through these paths, and she lowers herself further into her crouch so that she can reach down and run her hand alongside Raze’s front right shoulder. He knows this touch, this meaning, and his gait changes with a subtle control, a slight hesitation of the right side legs, and when they hit the switchback he arcs around the turn like a bolt of lightning, flawless and blinding. A smile, satisfaction and joy, flashes across Arcadia’s mousey face. Today could very well be the day. Today Raze might make his time, might not only complete his circuit, but set a a record time for his weight class. It is rare, for the most massive of Vehjan Stallions to also have the incredible speed the breed are known for, but Raze is cut from a special swatch.
She is too lost in hope, and Raze too lost in power to see the stone on the path.
Had the stone been even slightly smaller in size it likely would have been crushed beneath Raze’s powerful hooves, but such is the way of things, and so when he treads upon the unfortunate stone his front left leg buckles. Four thousand pounds of power and thunder and determination hit the forest path floor at fifty miles an hour and his violent tumble sends Arcadia flying through the air. Were she any other species this would likely have been a death sentence and been sent careening into the nearby forest line. Instead, she flares her wings out wide, their pale yellow feathers slowing her rapidly before a couple beats set her down upon the ground at a trot. She turns on her heel and sprints with everything she has back to Raze as he slides to a stop, laying on his side and breathing heavily.
She reaches him in less than a second, and immediately puts her forehead to his.
‘Calm… Calm… Easy… Calm…’
She sends peace to her soulmate through a gentle stroking hand upon his neck. She reaches out with her other hand and a flash of emerald light snaps the shattered femur back together as if nothing had happened, or close to it. She takes her time getting him to his feet, slowly, carefully, and as they stand, her arms draped about his powerful neck, her tears flow openly.
Some things once broken, never truly heal. A leg is one thing. But the spirit…
Discover more from A Thousand Words
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.