Chapter 9 (Part 3)

With the wolf’s help, we found a smoother road for the horses which made it incredibly easier for both man and beast. The horses transformed from weary, slow, panting and teary eyed beasts of burden to content, relieved, sparkly-eyed, I’d even go as far as smiling Pegasi or Pegasuses… that. For us humans, well let’s just say our butts were happy as well.

Chapter 9 (part 2)

Brutal, merciless slaughter… none of those words could even begin to describe how these wolves died. A whole clan of unidentifiable carcasses that seemed to have exploded from the inside was strewn all over the place. In all my life’s travels, never had I seen so much malice and death.

Chapter 9 (Part 1)

We ran as fast as we could, whizzing and weaving through the trees, the scenery blurring past us. Noirxus and I reached the camp within seconds. When we got to the scene, I felt like hitting myself in shame. For when I set up that barrier to include the whole camp, it really did include everything even the unconscious wolf. Except now the wolf is fully conscious and half standing. Without slowing down, I snapped my fingers, dissipating the barrier leaving Noirxus and I free to rush in. We both quickly unsheathed our swords and poised them in a cross like fashion above the wolf’s neck.

Chapter 8 (Part 3)

We all turned to look at the wolf, who was now coughing up large amounts of blood.

Chapter 8 (Part 2)

“Whatever happens, do not go outside the barrier,” I whispered to Rascielle who simply collapsed to her knees in fear. She didn’t even seem to comprehend what I just said but she nodded in cold sweat anyway.

Chapter 8 (Part 1)

“What is that?” I jolted the horse to a sudden stop then whirled my head to look behind us but the ominous presence I felt vanished. “Did you guys feel that?”

Chapter 7 (part 2)

The sun was setting down fast and we couldn’t ride for much longer so we set up camp. We were headed north towards the river I like to call “The River with a lot of Nicknames”. I think it’s the only river in the world with so many names. It’s been called the River of Life, Mother River, Main River, The Big River, The Vein of the Continent and a whole lot more but its proper name is Barquiz River. There’s only one reason to blame for that: poets. Poets like to describe that river and everything under the sun (sun included) for that matter, in their unique, poetic, long winded fashion and then spread it around like a plague. The people who contract this plague then know the river in that poetic way too and treat it like it’s the river’s real name.

 Poets and their tangled sense of language – they make this simple world sound painful and complicated.