“Thank you all so much.” I speak to the orbs as they bob in the air with differing colors.

It was a worry lingering in the back of my mind how Ran would fit in with my persona as Sir Ri... now the fairies have given me a beautiful Gift. I don't know how I will ever repay them.

They all flash a deep, pretty emerald green. A few come over to my hair and circle it. It becomes the atypical shoulder length hair for a Warrior.

The queen bobs in front of me. “Forgive me, but we can’t change mass; we can only change where it goes. It may not be wise to show your legs when wearing this... disguise.”

I pull up a black pant leg. The blood drains from my face. “I look like Sasquatch.”

Ran lets out a series of chirps.

“Not. Funny,” I growl at her.

Totally. Is. If I have to be a unicorn, you can be Sasquatch.

I smirk at her. At least I don’t have a horn, Grandma. I emphasize the last word, knowing how much she hates it.

She snorts, blowing snot all over my nice clothes. I hold up a sleeve. “Ewww. Ran, don’t you know that Sir Hans and Lady Jenny worked hard for these?”

I look over to see them both laughing. I look back to Ran who has a smug look in what should be innocent brown equine eyes.

The orbs spin around me at dizzying speed and I’m dry. I sigh. “I’m sorry about that. Again, thank you all so very much. We both deeply appreciate your help.” I bow deeply from my waist and nudge Ran to do the same.

She grumbles about hooves and awkward horsiness, but obeys.

One goes over to the horn in the middle of Ran’s forehead. The orb touches it and it disappears. “It’s still there, so don’t go stabbing anyone. I’ve just layered a gleam over top of the rest,” Larich says.

I nod to Larich in thanks, then turn to the queen. “Thank you.”

“It is our honor. If either of you wish to change back, all you shall have to remember is how your original self was. The Spark takes from your Essence to enable the shift. I recommend not changing often. We are working on gaining where your family is located through Natasha. Once we find them, we will keep you appraised." Her voice grows softer. "You have untapped potential with the Spark residing in you. Know for now that if you imagine something, it can be. All you have to do is believe.” They all bob one last time before disappearing with pops.

I sigh deeply before turning to Ran. “I suppose its time to make our appearance, huh?”

She plops back into herself and I yelp. A flightless human can fly with the right provocation. I hit my head, HARD, on the ceiling. I squeak as I start to drop. Only years of practice honing both my body and my reflexes have me twisting tight enough to grab hold of the chandelier. I wrap my arms and legs around it. “Wha...? HELP!”

Did the Spark do that? I swear I'm not that strong.

Ran quickly scales the side of the wall, then hangs from the ceiling upside down like a spider monkey. The Hans' poor, pretty ceiling is now scarred with claw marks.

She reaches the chandelier and grabs me by the waist with gentle jaws. I feel like a bad kitten as I dangle from her jaws on the way down.

She sets me on the ground and uses her shoulder to prop me up as I almost fall over. “Please, let’s NEVER do that again.”

She chirrups a mix of a rumble and a growl in my mind as she turns back into another creature of legend, but this one has a horn instead of extra long teeth.

“Only you thought it was funny, Ran. Only you.”

I stagger and indeed feel something draining from my soul. It's a warmth leaking out to be replaced by an icy chill. It scares the heck out of me for a moment, but warmth slowly replaces the chill, leaving whatever the queen called my essence feeling more normal. What would happen if we changed too often? Would I become a human popsicle?

Best not to find out.

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They thought it was hilarious. Ran tilts her head in a very wolf-like gesture, her horsey ears flopping.

I look over at Jenny and Sir Hans. “You didn’t think that funny, right?”

Jenny shrugs elegant shoulders, but Sir Hans smirks. “It was hilarious,” he says.

Jenny smacks him on the shoulder. He winces. “What? It is true.”

I sigh, looking skyward. “How am I to handle what you have given me?”

“You delegate,” Ran says, nudging my shoulder and licking my short hair.

Hmm. Interesting concept. Might have to think on that. Specifically, for a wolf-horse who thinks my hair needs to be groomed.

She realizes what she's doing in her horse body and stops, giving me a sheepish glance that looks mighty strange on her long, equine face.

~~~

I sit atop my horse-wolf, but unlike the typical destriers, I am bareback. Ran balked and ran up a tree the moment we suggested a saddle.

I tried to warn her about the dangers of climbing with hooves. She learned the hard way after splatting on the ground with a bone rattling thud. It took all my willpower to not tell her someone very wise told her so.

Her tail smacks me in the face.

“I’m going to trim that thing,” I say, pulling horse hair from my mouth. Yuck.

“You come anywhere near my tail and I’ll shave your legs with my horn.” I snort with laughter and Sir Robin looks at me with concern.

I wave him off. “‘Tis nothing.”

He nods. “Glad to see ye. When you didn’t show for the celebration last night, I almost believed Wolfsbane gotcha and it was the last we’d hear from the young prodigy.” With a smile, he turns to wave at the people lining the streets leading up to the main arena.

The people of Risia throw flowers at the prancing mounts and knights and warriors bedecked in their best finery. The white buildings and multicolored flags and awnings bring life to the city in ways I haven't seen as Risia's Guardian. It's beautiful. And seeing the smiling faces of those I have fought for is... nothing short of amazing. Even if they never know exactly who I am, it's enough to see them happy.

The arena looming many blocks ahead of us is near the middle of the city and holds upwards of fifty thousand spectators, whereas the palace arena can only hold just under fifteen.

For this grand event, they needed to use the main arena used for jousting, mock battles, mage show-offs, horse racing, and other events.

I turn to look at the long procession behind and before me. The parade is supposed to enhance the appeal of the tournament and allow venders their chance to hawk the competitor’s wares.

King Aric Verity Henry the Third leads the procession on a beautiful, deep golden buckskin stallion. Queen Lucille rides at his side on a pure white mare whose mane and tail are expertly braided with flowing flowers of deep magenta, matching that of the Queen's flowing dress. Her long locks of beautiful brunette hair reach past her waist, while her beautiful figure catches the eye of every man in the area. Her smile and poise only highlight her beauty.

Crown Prince Arin Honoric Henry the Fourth follows directly behind them on a mountain of a midnight black stallion. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his forehead is slightly puckered. He has a stern set to his visage that is assuaged by the softening of his face in a smile that reaches his eyes as he looks at the masses. His blue eyes seem a bit dim to me, but what do I know? I've only met him once.

Behind him is the chariot containing the younger siblings of the royal family. All stand at the chariot’s side windows and wave. Princess Rosella waves at the crowd and blows kisses, looking resplendent in her deep red dress.

I do a double take at the hand waving a blue flag with a white Timber Wolf bowing with a ring of Phoenix feathers bordering the image. My eyes almost bulge from their sockets. The other prince and princesses crowd in behind her in a flash of colors.

Following is the King and Crown Prince’s Royal Guard, dressed in royal purple finery with horses bedecked in classical knight armor.

Then comes the challengers. I’m towards the middle of the pack in a group of challengers that number over three score, that I have counted so far. It was a matter of losing count because what I could count made my heart sink. The chance of finding the assassin in such numbers is like a needle in a haystack. I'll just have to stick around until the numbers dwindle. Great.

I pull my shoulders back and paste a smile on my face. I shall at least try, and King help me, hopefully succeed. I know his face. That should help. Maybe.

“Wave, lad. The ladies won’t hurt ye. And look! Many are even waving your banner.” Sir Robin gestures to many of the fair maidens lining the path.

My cheeks heat at the sight of so many blue banners floating in the daylight. A booming laugh sounds beside me. “Don’t look so frightened. They won’t harm ye none. Ye looked more voracious fighting Wolfsbane.”

I wave shyly, but I never was one to seek attention. Cheers and giggles follow my actions from those on the streets.

I smile and wave a little more at the many peasants lining the here and there of the pathway. “Why do so many carry my banner?” I ask, dropping my hand.

“Why wouldn’t they? A commoner just like ‘em made the ranks of mostly nobles and knights, coming to rank among the knights themselves, dubbed by the Colonel of the Honor Knights himself. When ye took down Wolfsbane, many flocked to your story. Who wouldn’t root for ye?”

I’m shocked. I didn’t realize so many knew who I was, much less that I’m a commoner and my whole life's story since I became Ri.

“So wave lad. They like ye lots. More than that, ye give them hope.”

I take his advice. Young and old alike fly my Timber Wolf Banner, yelling as I come into sight and throwing rose petals my way.

Enjoy it, two-legs. They love you.

Do they love me, or the idea of me?

She has no answer, and neither do I. Instead, I try to combat my morose feeling and focus on the now. There’s nothing I can do for my family, no trail to chase, nowhere to turn.

I’m hoping if I can catch this assassin, maybe answers will come. There’s also the double favor of helping the Prince. He has power and a broad reach.

I’m chasing ashes, but as of now, it’s all I have. So I smile and wave.