“Are you alright, my Lord?” Calzion’s hair was flowing in the wind of the ride. He’d always been fond of mounted voyages. A horse or ram had always been his favorite. Never having a chance to fly on the wyvern, he’d stayed on the ground with the mammals.

Some riders and soldiers were given permission to take the drakes or wyvern out of The Spire. That was a very rare occasion as Gohdin had always wanted to amass their strength while keeping the secrets hidden. Often distant journeys or expressions of might were the reasoning to utilize the more vicious of mounts. Other than these uses, riders could only use them to travel through the largest of the caverns deep within The Spire’s reach. Calzion had never been permitted, and so he rode his horse with appreciation.

Three horses travelled down a dirty path that had barely been patted down. They’d left through one of the secret entrances on the southern face of the mountain. It was stone wall, complete with shrubs and outcroppings, that shifted to the side on a pivot—magically avoiding scraping or destroying the landscape around it.

Since that time, Lord Gohdin had been bouncing around on his horse trying to keep straight. He looked, to Calzion, like a being that had never ridden. Reasonable, for all the time he’s spent in books. Calzion’s mind did not question his master’s ability but hoped to assist him in finding a preferable solution than the constant up and down, almost painful, ride he was experiencing.

“It has been a while!” The dragonkin tried to play off the swaying and the noticeable bouncing—trying to straighten himself and find the right spot. Of course, Christoph wasn’t trained in this sort of thing, but he kept trying. His tenacity was something to be admired. Even as he continually rose from the saddle and dropped back down onto the wedge between his legs, he pushed through and tried to make it work. Quietly, he praised Heaven that he no longer had human testicles. “Is there something you’d suggest?”

Bewildered by his master’s request for assistance, the elf stumbled over his words. “I… You… My Lord!” He bowed as best he could while still shifting up and down on the horses that were moving at a decent trot. “If you ask for my help, I will do all I can if you permit me.”

This is going to be a long ride. Christoph had already begun to find the troublesome nature of absolute loyalty. It was endearing and tiresome. “I permit it. Please.” He tried not to sound too needy as he fell down hard on the saddle again.

“Of course!” Calzion slowed his horse. Christoph mimicked the tug on the reins. They both came to a halt—which Gitma stopped behind them. Calzion hopped off his mount with dutiful haste. “Perhaps it is the saddle.” The half-elf carefully inspected the saddle and the securing straps on the horse.

It was a magnificent beast. An enormous male steed waited patiently as the monster on his back shifted to get comfortable and the half-elf beside him tugged at the leather wrapped around his body. The horse gave a single huff while they continued to check through the gear. Surely, this horse appreciated the effort to make the ride less stressful on his back.

“I’ve tightened some of the cinches and lengthened your stirrups.” He yanked on the horn to check if it budged much. “I’d say it’s more secure which is better for his back. From there, using your abdomen muscles to follow his movements is important.” He’d begun his explanations as if he were speaking to a youngling. He wasn’t even looking at his master but at the horse that he stroked to sooth. “It’s possible the goblins didn’t correct the saddle after removing the armor. With that gap, it might have been shifting and uncomfortable for him.”

“You are quite knowledgeable about riding.” The deep voice of the dragonkin forced Calzion out of his element.

“I apologize for my bluntness, Master.” His eyes were wide and his body froze. It was as if he’d heard a twig snap behind him in a dark woods. “P-please forgive me.” He wasn’t groveling. He was a proud elf; proud as could be that he was descended of a distant clan of a mighty people. It was this pride that made him stand and face his punishment, but it was the fear of severity that opened his eyes as wide as they could go.

“There’s no need. You did nothing wrong. In fact,” Christoph the dragonkin shifted in his saddle and felt no give from the seat. “Thank you.”

What a splendid warmth it was that overtook Calzion. Gitma, a number of meters behind, frowned beneath her false face at the attention and praise he’d received. Such words of thanks coming from a soulless monster made Calzion’s heart race. He’d never had the honor of serving at the maddened wizard’s side, but he now saw there was no such madness from those whispered stories remaining. Every word of it was a lie to him. He’d believed him a strict beast worthy of their servitude based purely in strength and mind, but there was now another reason to serve.

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“Of course. I am humbled, my Lord.” Calzion bowed deeply and backed away slightly from the horse.

Christoph saw this deep bow and groaned a bit; a sense of irritation slipped out as a darkened intent. This was actually a skill that Christoph had not known he had.

Certain spells need no hand gestures, words, or materials. Some are even skills that require no mana, but they are usually limited to a certain number of uses a day or per rest. This particular skill known as “Unhallowed Aura” was one which could easily, and even ignorantly, be activated. His heavy exhale of exhaustion pushed the blackened energy around his body.

Gitma and the horses all felt this disturbance and began to shiver in place. The horses were able to thrash or run, but they stood and shook as if the frozen winds of a tundra had stolen the sun away.

Calzion had been frozen solid. His wide eyes looked at the ground, but he could feel that incredible aura of despair… of utter hopelessness. It took all of this young half-elf’s willpower to keep from crying and dropping to the dirt. Within, there was a clash of the need to survive striking out against the eternal darkness which encroached upon him. A shining knight versus the entirety of Death.

It wasn’t a lie. Calzion’s mind played through the beatings, broken bones, and endless training to become a trusted guard of The Spire. All of it lead to this moment of terror.

Christoph saw the sudden shift in scenery. His horse was shaking between his legs. Looking down to his clawed hand, he saw the blackened aura wriggling off his flesh like darkened leeches draining the world of life.

“MMM!” He grunted loudly and waved the claw at his side—as if the force would douse this raging energy. It doesn’t work that way. He needed to calm himself. His weary spirit had accidently unleashed the skill. Even Gitma, the abominable hunk of covered flesh, fought to keep her opened mouth from screaming behind the mask.

After a moment, Christoph was able to sooth the emotional turmoil. The undead faction of his very being silenced the strong emotions; the skill began to wither and fade.

“A-a-apologies, my Lord!” Calzion shouted directly at the ground. He had succeeded in keeping himself silent and stilled. He could have run. He felt he should have run away or collapsed and given up. But he hadn’t.

“For what?” Christoph took in the surroundings and saw the horses pant with exhaustion, Gitma’s eyes wildly flying about in different directions, and the half-elf shaking beside him (still stuck in a bow). “I am terribly sorry!”

Calzion flinched a foot back and produced an audible whine as Christoph’s heavy form hit the ground. One sought to appeal with humanity while the other saw the scene as absolute doom. Christoph reached out and grabbed the boy’s shoulder.

“Please!” Calzion dropped to a knee, with the claw still held on his right shoulder, to look up toward his master. His eyes were watering, but his face was fierce. “Please forgive me.”

What did I do?! Christoph felt as if he’d scarred him. It pricked at his undead heart enough for him to feel remorse, but it wasn’t enough for him to weep for the lad. “There is nothing to forgive.” This made the half-elf’s eyes widen with fear. “What I mean, you did nothing wrong. I did.” Christoph released his shoulders and patted at his chest. “I lost control.” He hadn’t even known about his skills. I’m going to have to look into my own abilities. I can’t let that happen again unless I need it. It was both frightening… and a bit exhilarating.

All began to calm on the overgrown trails they rode through.

“I lost control. I apologize. Please, stand up. I mean no harm.” Christoph’s words made Calzion cock his head with disbelief. Christoph sighed again—the reptilian lips flapping a bit at the breath. “I ask that you forgive me. We need to keep moving, and I accidently let that slip out. I will do my best to restrain that if you could do me a favor.”

The atmostphere changed from a stormy sky of innumerable tornadoes and flashes of lightning to that of a dulled breeze with an overcast sky.

“What would you ask of me, my Lord?” Calzion stared up through the layer of water in his eyes.

“Relax.” Christoph exhaled and drooped his shoulders a bit. “I need you both to relax.”