My horse, Dutch, was sixteen hands and had a coat as black as the pitch on a moonless night. Interestingly, he had a subtle glimmer across his long-flowing mane if the morning light hit at just the right angle. He was stocky with robust back and leg muscles ideal for long-distance travel. Being twelve years old, his soft eyes nonetheless held a deep intelligence that belied his relatively young age. I wasn’t sure if it translated to this world, but it wasn’t unheard of for a horse to reach thirty years old back on Earth.
Mannie recommended gelding warmbloods for both of us due to male horses generally having increased strength and stamina, as well as the youthful vitality all warmbloods had. A great choice by the sound of it as we ventured cross-country to the elven forest nation far to the east. Dutch was the stable owner’s first choice for me since I was the most likely to engage in face-to-face combat. From a yearling, Dutch received training similar to that a courser. Mannie explained coursers were essentially warhorses normally ridden by knights and men-at-arms, though Dutch training was not as strict training as true warhorses. His training afforded him more than enough steadiness to not panic and bolt when surrounded by hostile adversaries.
Walking beside the tall animal, I lightly patted Dutch’s shoulder as I spoke encouraging words to him. I knew from experience the importance of bonding early on with a horse, so wanted to start our relationship off right. Catching a curious frown from Stella in the corner of my eye, I shot a questioning look her way with my eyebrows pinching uncertainly.
“Don’t pat them,” she commented before floating over to rest a paw against Dutch’s brawny shoulder. Almost mockingly slow, she ran the paw across his ebony coat. “Horses don’t understand the gesture. Instead, caress him, like this.”
Following her example, I stroked the side of his neck. To my surprise, Dutch responded quickly and pushed into my touch, clearly enjoying the show of affection. “Good call, how did you know?”
“Something I remember Stouter saying,” she replied offhandedly before moving to sit atop the leather saddle. She smiled down at me as she wiggled her butt into the padded seat.
Speaking of saddles, we had chosen, with Mannie’s recommendation, two ‘endurance saddles’ during the final parts of our negotiation. The deep seats and extra padding would help provide a far more comfortable seat than all-around saddles. They also weighed less, distributing the weight of the rider over a wider area across the horse’s back, thereby reducing strain for our steeds. With the tremendous distance we needed to travel, the endurance saddles would be greatly appreciated by everyone involved. We had a few options to customize our saddles, so at my request, we received a pair with sturdy saddle horns as neither of us was an expert rider. I would appreciate the extra support it would provide.
Looking at Tallos, I found he had a similar satisfied grin to Stella’s and was actively stroking his horse’s neck and shoulder. “Don’t look at me,” he stated when he caught me looking. “I already knew it. It’s pretty obvious to elves, or so I thought.”
Ignoring the slight jest for what it was, I examined Tallos’ slightly younger horse, Jax. The gelding had a powder white coat with hints of gray skin underneath, an animated pink nose that seemed to always be on the hunt for treats, and eyes darker than Dutch. At fourteen and a half hands, he was notably smaller than his burly brother. Jax’s gaze carried a youthful innocence yet had an inkling of a devious nature not yet fully realized. Between the pair, Jax was submissive and, for the most part, followed the more dominant Dutch. Tallos discovered he needed only use his legs or tug gently on the reins to steer Jax back if a particularly delicious clump of grass threatened to grab his attention. With only minor guidance, Tallos was soon lightly holding his reins while studying his eagle eye tome in the other.
A year younger than his brother, Jax had a leaner and more agile frame. If Dutch was a warhorse, Jax was a nimble cross-country jumper. He also received some initiate-level combat and desensitization training to help him remain calm in the face of danger. This worked well for our group dynamic as Tallos would prefer to keep his distance anyways. I was a little jealous when Tallos easily leaped atop his saddle, realizing he had earned enough trust from Jax.
Within thirty minutes, I sat tall atop Dutch with the city of Mammoth slowly fading behind us. Dutch had shifted nervously under me at first, my inexperience showing as I struggled to hold my seat, my legs a bit too firm in my stirrups. At Stella’s reminder, I did my best to hold my reins in a loose grip. Soon enough, I found my balance and was riding comfortably, already thankful for our choice of saddle.
Looking over my shoulder, as expected, Tallos held his spell tome held in his lap as his eyes devoured its written information. His reins were resting atop Jax’s neck, who was more than content with following a step or two behind Dutch’s lead.
Sometime later, with lunch not far off, we looked for a spot to take a small break even though we had only three or four miles at this point. Around us were sprawling grasslands and dozens of tilled fields with a wide variety of greenery and produce. We saw the occasional farmhouse and farmer, though no one had been near enough to exchange polite greetings. After dismounting, our horses immediately showed interest in grazing the tall grass. Heeding their unspoken request, we swiftly removed their bridle, keeping their hope halters on. Both were typically worn, especially when you were just getting to know a horse, as it was safer. I learned that taking the short few seconds to switch from a bridge to a halter could be enough time for a horse to bolt off if you were not extremely careful. What I did know, was you shouldn't allow a horse to eat grass with a bit in his mouth, so the halters alone were a far better choice. The pair eagerly moved to enjoy the tasty green snacks.
Pulling a pair of apples from my inventory, Dutch and Jax perked up and bit eagerly into the green orbs. Being careful to avoid snipping teeth, especially with the overzealous Jax, my hands were soon covered in a mix of horse saliva and apple juices. Brushed my hands across the ground, a light chuckle escaped my lips. “They sure do love these things,” I observed before realizing with a start we only had a half dozen of the treats left. Eyeing up our mounts, I grimaced. “That’s not good.”
Tallos must have seen my plighted look as he lightly tossed a small sack to me. Inside were perhaps a hundred-inch-long square cubes. Pulling one from between the drawstring, it looked like compressed sand though it was pristinely white. “Taste it,” Tallos offered.
Following his suggestion, I was pleasantly surprised by the sweetness. Moments later I was crunching down on the tiny cube. “Sugar cubes!” I exclaimed after enjoying the scrumptious treat. As my hand reached for another one, I halted abruptly as a soft slap hit the back of my neck.
“Those are for Jax and Dutch, you goof,” Stella barked before quickly returning to Ripley’s shoulder. “He said to taste it, one of them, not dive back into the lot of them.”
She continued muttering to herself, though I paid little attention as I offered an ivory dice to my Dutch. Tallos had kept a few before tossing me the pouch and Jax was eagerly asking for another. Thanking Tallos, I underhanded the pouch back to him before offering a final one to Dutch.
After enjoying a brief lunch, we returned to our saddles, intent on getting as much distance as we could before nightfall. Mannie had said his stable’s warmblood was bred for endurance and, so far, his comment was right on the mark. Neither Dutch nor Jax seemed tired in the slightest. We were told, normally a horse should only be worked eight hours each day but with their breeding and endurance training, ours would be able to reach closer to ten hours before needing to rest. With the High Thicket around two-hundred and fifty miles away, the extra time would add up over the coming days.
Even better, we discovered my travel song also applied to our new friends. When I commented to Tallos about this seemingly fast gait, Stella pipped up. She confirmed the increased movement bonus afforded by my spell affected everyone in the party. “It works for them too because the System recognizes we own the pair. For all intents and purposes, they are party members, so receive the beneficial buff,” she shared. “They’ll also be healed if in range of your pyroclastic area of effect.”
It was fantastic news to my ears. I hadn’t recalled the buff working on our two loaner horses back from the capital. Captain Baracus borrowed out a pair of city horses after we agreed to look into the Minotaur threat. Stella shared my buff didn’t work back then because we hadn’t technically owned the duo.
“Will my song mean we need to rest earlier since we’re putting more energy into our steps?” I questioned, hoping we wouldn’t need to.
“Thankfully, no,” Stella assured. “The benefits from the song don’t include a negative aspect. While we move quicker, we don’t work harder to do so, if that makes sense. To us, we’re moving at our normal pace so are spending the same amount of energy as if we were not under the spell’s effects.”
It was welcomed news. As we pressed on under the sunny sky, we found fewer and fewer farmlands the further our steeds carried us. The sun was hanging low meaning we would need to stop for the evening soon enough. Coming across a small brook, it was the perfect place to camp for the approaching evening. We dismounted and removed the tack from Dutch and Jax before grooming both with bristle brushes. Tying their halters to a strung line between the solitary tree and a hefty pole purchased for this exact purpose, the pair began grazing on nearby grass with plenty of room to roam. Ensuring they had enough food for the remainder of the evening, I dropped several flakes of hay before pulling out a steaming plate for everyone else. Though we started later in the morning than I had hoped, we had made good ground, probably forty to fifty miles on our first day.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
As daylight broke across the horizon, I found Tallos and Stella already awake. He sat on an old, felled tree with his spell tome flat across his lap. By the look of it, he was studying the final few pages of the book. I had hoped he could be ready to try casting the eagle eye spell sometime today. With how Stella floated close to his face, the two conversing over some detail, it looked promising. It was then I noticed two empty plates resting on the log on either side of the pair. Apparently, the duo helped themselves to breakfast while I slept.
Sighing loudly in mock hurt, I plopped right back down on my bedroll and pulled out the scrambled egg dish from Hera’s inn. I grinned at Stella when I caught her staring at my plate. She licked her lips unconsciously, so I turned my body to the side to hide my scrumptious meal. Not looking back around, I heard an audible huff before they resumed chatting. Her tone was instructional, like a teacher helping an overly exuberant student who was struggling to understand some nuanced concept.
From what I recalled, Tallos hadn’t needed such tutelage with his snare spell, so a slight worry came over me for a moment. Hopefully, the spell wasn’t beyond his capabilities as the spell could benefit his accuracy and mobility. Glancing towards our horses to check how they were doing, neither was hooked to the lone sapling from the night before. Their rope reins had been tossed over their saddles, essentially giving them the ability to roam about as they wished. As I watched, Jax moved towards a distant tuft of long grass, well clear of his brother. Stella flew over to corralled him back. Once Jax resumed his morning meal, Stella returned to Tallos’ side where they resumed their discussion.
“How’s it going,” I asked after finishing the last tasty morsels of my breakfast. The bacon was nice and crispy, just the way I liked it. Returning the now barren plate to my inventory, I looked hopefully at the pair.
Tallos didn’t respond, or even look up, at my words. Perhaps sensing some mounting frustration, she spoke for him. “It’s going… alright. The last part of the spell is tricky as it calls for Tallos to bring a specific image to his mind, while at the same time making several precise gestures with his fingers. He’ll get it, I’m sure of it.”
“Well, keep at it, bud,” I called out to my friend. “I’m going to get Dutch and Jax ready.”
Tallos closed his eyes and began practicing the required hand gestures. He repeated a gesture several times, his fingers spread before tightening into something akin to a diving hawk.
After brushing and tacking up our horses, I returned with both reins in hand. Jax had thoroughly enjoyed the grooming, while Dutch only stood there impartial as I cleaned the dirt from his coat. Both were more than eager when I pulled out several sugar cubes to treat them for their good behavior. So, the way to their hearts is with treats, good to know, I mused internally.
“Ready to mount up?” I asked.
Tallos no longer wore the frustrated expression he had. With Stella’s guidance, he finally appeared at ease, and confident. His spell book sat closed beside him while he appeared to be meditating. As I watched, he took several long breaths, inhaling and exhaling as if doing a breathing exercise.
“Before we go, we think he’s ready,” Stella said for the ruminating elf. Tallos nodded a pair of times, though his eyes remained firmly shut.
I moved both Dutch and Jax’s reins over their necks, allowing them to return to grazing. Neither had their bits yet, as I planned to switch them over when we moved to mount up. Wanting to keep them close, I tossed a flake of hay between the two. It should keep them occupied while Tallos made his attempt.
This time around, I was not going to be the target of this spell since eagle eye could only target the caster himself. Approaching to help provide emotional support, Tallos wore a serious expression as he rose to his feet. Opening his eyes, his gaze appeared to be unfocused as if all his attention was still focused inward. Taking a deep breath, the focused ranger began his incantation.
Tallos’ words were confident and precise. It was obvious he wanted to cast the spell correctly on his first attempt. Learning a spell the long way had to be incredibly difficult. Thinking of my weakest spells, like my unused firebolt, it took an intense amount of concentration, multiple precise gestures, and a series of phrases entirely unlike this world’s common language. For me, it was as if my spells had been memorized over several long years and came easily when I mentally reviewed the necessary steps to cast them. For Tallos, he had to do all of it the hard way, without shortcuts or artificially implanted years of experience.
Perspiration formed on his brow as his hands swept across his body during the long cast time. At a five count, he closed his eyes before tilting his head backward while his fingers flashed downward like the plunging bird of prey. With a final word, he stood perfectly still like he had been transformed momentarily into a marble statue. When his eyes opened, a green halo shone brightly around his irises. Before it disappeared, the clockwise-spinning nimbus appeared to contain dozens of minuscule inscriptions within the glowing jade band.
This time around, everyone noticed as the nearby tome evaporated into tiny motes of dust now that its magic was spent. “This is intense,” he muttered, slightly stumbling backward. “It’s like my vision has been magnified. It is a bit disorientating.”
“You should be able to mentally examine the enhancing effect and turn it on and off at will,” Stella offered helpfully. It took a moment, but once Tallos figured it out, he turned a satisfied smile our way. “Now, try shooting an arrow,” she teased like she knew something no one else did.
Tallos shrugged and swiftly strung his bow with practiced ease. In moments he had an arrow notched loosely on the string. “Now what?” he asked.
Stella rolled her eyes before replying, “Shoot. You’ll see, trust me.” When Tallos looked around himself aimlessly, Stella gave a lighthearted sigh and pulled out a small clay mug. It was unfamiliar, meaning she must have pulled it from the mundane equipment we looted from either Adom or Tsurra. Handing me the cup, she instructed me to toss it.
Curious about where she was going with this, I cocked my arm back and launched the mug into the air. Tallos, understanding his role, now with an obvious target, sighted down his arrow’s shaft before releasing the string. A loud clatter of broken pottery and a puff of clay marked a successful shot. Though it was an impressive shot, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I would have expected the skilled archer to make such a shot even without his eagle eye buff.
“Incredible!” Tallos exclaimed, catching me by surprise. “When I took aim and was about to release, the cup calmed… like time slowed for a fraction of a moment. I don’t know how to describe it. When I focused, the mug grew larger in my sight and its spin slowed. I’ve never heard of such a thing, definitely not something our elders ever shared.”
Stella sat smugly in the air, her legs doing a little wiggle as she preened. “Not only does it allow you to tighten your vision on a distant target, but your perception of time does slow the moment you’re about to fire an arrow. No one else can sense it, and it’s not really time-altering magic. Instead, your buff temporarily amplifies your brain’s processing speed. To you, your target appears to move in slow motion.”
A strong part of me wished I had the spell. The perception increase alone would no doubt help with the accuracy of Tallos’ shots. His already pinpoint accuracy was going to reach a new level. I told Tallos as much while patting him on the back.
The remainder of the day was pleasant and we made good progress until we reached a rolling countryside filled with large mounds of earth reaching two to three hundred feet into the sky, not to mention three times as wide. Navigating wasn’t difficult thanks to my map interface, but it did slow our overall progress. The hills were a bit too steep to risk our horses slipping, considering the topmost layer of dirt seemed to be lying over gravel.
The only interesting thing we spotted that day was what appeared to be a roving band of goblinoid-type creatures. Even a mile away, their indigo skin, skimpy bodies, and short stature were easy to identify. Even with their numbers, they hardly seemed a threat. As soon as they realized they were spotted, the group hooted and hollered before disappearing around a hill and out of sight. We never saw them again, and nothing showed up overnight while we slept, though we increased our night watch to be safe.
By the middle of day three, we spotted a large lake off in the distance. We were ready for a change from the monotonous back and forth necessary to hike around through the countless tall knolls. The lake ahead was akin to an inland sea with how wide it appeared. We decided to skirt around the south side as the lake butted up against a massive mountain range to the north.
Stella called the vast spring-fed water Lake Kirkholm and the surrounding low-lying basin, Kirkholm’s Gorge. The mountain range had a solitary snow-covered peak. It was an inspiring sight, reminded me of Mount Everest. Unfortunately for us, the mountain range was shaped like a backward ‘C,’ slicing across to the south at the far end of Lake Kirkholm. I questioned if we shouldn’t skirt to the south side of the mountain, but learned it would add at least another hundred and fifty miles to our already lengthy trek.
Our fourth day started miserably as it turned out the gorge south of the lake was a deep wetland. Better yet, I’d likely describe it later as more of swampland with how pungent and foul it smelled. Our progress slowed considerably due to the need to carefully pick each step. Everyone was put into a foul mood, matching the reek around us. Eventually, we saw an end in sight. After rounding the edge of the lake stood an expansive grassland. Night was fast approaching, so we needed to set up camp. No one wanted to attempt wading through the deep swamp in the dead of night.
Finding a particularly dry hill the size of a small yard, we knew it was going to be the best we would find. The horses didn’t have much to eat so we laid out all ten flakes from a bale between the two. With Tallos and Ripley's help, we created a small enclosure around the horses using a combination of waterlogged wood and long pieces of metal from our inventory. There was an eerie feeling as if a soundless predator was creeping up on us even though we found no evidence of anything larger than a small critter all day long. A silence fell over the group as if talking amongst ourselves would delay morning approaching so we could clear out of this murky place.
When the sound of drawn steel clearing a scabbard hit my sensitive ears, my heart was sent racing. “We’re under attack!”