The Forgotten

Before going anywhere else, Lynden stopped to see his giant warhorse. The stallion had been with him since he started service fifteen long years ago. It was true that the beast was approaching an age where he should retire, but it still had more fight in it yet. This was always proven when Lynden left it with someone else for too long. It would bite, kick, or if there was space, run around to prevent anyone from putting reins on him. But with Lynden, he was like a playful pony. The horse was a gift from a minor noble he served for many years as a reward, not knowing then how much it would mean to him.

He approached the stables to find the white steed chewing some hay. Raising his head, he saw Lynden, with a nod and a skip the horse came to the edge of his stall to have his human rub the side of his head.

Not wanting to disturb the beast’s breakfast, he picked up a large handful of hay that the horse eagerly chomped on from Lynden’s hand.

Twenty minutes later, the hay had been eaten, the horse brushed and even had a few minutes of playing. As Lynden went to pull away, the horse did not appear to be satisfied and nudged him making him stumble back a few paces.

Laughing, Lynden said, “Oi, I’m the master here.”

The horse nudged him again, though this time in a loving embrace. Lynden held the mount in close and then after another hour of attention, Lynden got the saddle and reigns for the horse and placed them over him. He thought it would do him good to get some exercise, even if it was just around the town.

He led the horse down the old cobbled street, the sounds of the horse’s hooves almost a drumbeat that echoed above peoples’ conversations. He walked through the markets before mounting. Without barely giving direction, the horse trotted towards the watchtower to see the three guards.

They got a few wary looks as they walked through town, as it wasn’t every day that a large warhorse would be moving along the street. Realising quickly that it was a mistake as it easily distinguished him between him and the common folk, the guards especially raised an eyebrow, some may have even recognised him being atop the horse. He didn’t care too much, as he donned his polished, silver armour, putting the two-handed sword on his back although more for show than to use it.

No one dared come near him, either doing so out of knowing who the man was or knowing his reputation with that blade. Many had fallen victim to it over the years. Having never been bested while wielding it, stories were told of a man single-handedly holding back enemy lines, his blade cutting through them like butter.

Lynden arrived at the watchtower in good time. He looked around the gatehouse and atop the lookout but could not see anyone at all.

The knight had never seen posts abandoned, even after he left the king’s service. Dismounting, he walked over to the side door and tried to push it open. After several attempts, the small oak door would not budge.

With a raised voice, Lynden said, “Is anyone there?”

Silence was the only answer to the knight. Though wondering what might have happened to the guards at this post, he did not have time to investigate.

Making his way back to his warhorse, he sat once more on the saddle and made his way to the forest that he followed Rendall into not so long ago. Having a daring plan that could quickly get him killed but if he could, Lynden would have a valuable ally that may help him in the days to come to rescue his Rendall.

The knight rode upon his white steed and looked back on the castle in the town. Seeing the prison tower just appearing just over the wall, the man whispered to himself, “Soon.”

-

Celer had hardly moved the last day, the injuries from the Vesper had caused sharp spikes of pain to rise from both sides of her ribcage. Her front paws faced great surges of pain, making her buckle.

Blood and dirt stained her white coat, making it stick together in clumps.

It had been the group of black wolves that intended to kill her that saved her. Now the pack cared for her, bringing rabbits to eat and encouraging her to stand.

A wave of pain from her front legs caused the wolf to nearly fall from the shock. Bones feeling like they were grinding together, she tried again managing to take steps out of the clear waters she was lying in. They guided her back, her head just tall enough to remain above the surface so she wouldn’t drown.

The waters soon turned black and red, her furs becoming clearer for every moment spent in the pool. It was cold, refreshing and somewhat healing. Whether it was just numbing the pain after some time, her wounds felt they had eased.

Having closed her eyes for a time, she finally stood back up when the sun was beginning to set. Celer’s legs not giving out in pain but turned into the numb ache that she would get after running all day and night, uncomfortable certainly but tolerable.

Looking around, the pack leader of the group of wolves came to her. No longer did he or the rest of the pack have red eyes, but there was blue and green amongst them. Their black fur hid well in the forest, even more so at night.

The leader bowed his head sitting as he did so with the rest of the pack following. She had not grown up with wolves and so was unsure of the meaning of such an act but if she was to guess it was in submission and respect to her, their new pack leader. A thank you for freeing them from the Vesper that had enslaved them for so long.

In a sign of admiration and thanks in saving her, she bowed back to the wolves. Raising her head, she thought about Rendall and the time they had been apart. Knowing that she had been gone a long time, it was time for her to return as they needed one another. While the forest needed both of them, they would be stronger together.

Leaving the waters steadily, Celer was surprised to find out that the pain had gone. Her fresh cuts and wounds were little more than scars covered by wet but clear fur. What’s more is that she could walk, no she thought that she could run.

Taking a few steady steps half expecting that the cold water’s numbing effect would wear off. It didn’t and as she jogged through and around the trees, she grinned.

Looking back at her new friends, she nodded her head once more and then ran.

To Celer’s surprise, the sound of leaves and twigs getting crushed followed her. The white wolf turned her head to see that the pack of wolves were behind her.