Chapter 29

I was thankful to Old Thomas for having shown me the basics of how to ride a horse, though I still hadn’t been on one by myself. Brontus brought the three horses around for us without a kind word, only grumbling that I didn’t mind not hearing, before disappearing into the stable again. “Hop up, we’re burning daylight,” he ordered, riding his own horse.

I looked up at the chestnut brown, its coat a single colour, like the one Old Thomas guided, but lighter. She huffed at me and I took a half step back, but my grip on the reins didn’t loosen. “What’s her name?” I asked Brontus.

“Hell if I know,” he grunted from atop his dapple grey. “Can you get on, shorty?”

I grimaced, the stirrup around my waist. Turning to glance behind me, I was curious to see if the others, more of less my height, were having any trouble. Christopher was already on top of his, the stallion as dark and calm as a moonless night. Sarah was petting the mane of her appaloosa, whispering into its ear. It whinnied softly, shifting its head a bit before lowering a knee for her.

“Well?” Brontus barked. “Haven’t got all day. Get on already!”

I looked up at the horse as I came around its side. It didn’t seem to care much about my existence, simply standing there, indifferent to the world. I took a deep breath, and jumped. My arms swung over the saddle, grasping wildly, as my feet sought the stirrup. I started sliding back before my one foot found purchase and I wrestled up, grabbing the front of the saddle. It was an uphill battle, fighting to pull myself on top. I gasped as I rolled, my upper body flopping onto the beast, and I managed to swing my leg over. Finally, I sat up, sweating a little as I squeezed my knees to keep my balance.

“Impressive,” Brontus remarked in a tone that was thoroughly unimpressed. “Now come on. If we hurry we’ll get there by the day after tomorrow. Tch-tch!” he clicked, making a sharp sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth and snapping the reins. The horse whinnied and obeyed, beginning a quick trot away from the base.

I looked back and forth and the other two followed suit, their own variations of the sound causing the same effect. It made sense Sarah could ride, she would have been taught if she was a noble, though that didn’t explain her method of how she got on. Christopher handled his horse as if he had been born on it, and I burned a bit with jealousy at how they both seemed so adept at riding.

“Come on, girl,” I muttered. “Tch-tch!” I clicked, mimicking Brontus better than I thought I would. The horse huffed, shaking its head, tugging on the reins and pulling me a bit. “Ugh, come on,” I repeated. “Just… go!” I gave it a little tap with my heel. It did not seem to care for that. It huffed and turned its head, shifting its footing as it looked at me. “Just… please go,” I begged as the other three were already a small distance ahead of me, at least enough to not hear me trying to beg a horse.

It seemed to take pity on me though and trudged forward, trotting to catch up. I yelped, bouncing on the saddle. I had forgotten from my nearly nonexistent experience just how much horses moved up and down and I barely held onto the reins as my hands shot for the large front of the saddle to steady myself.

“Good, you’re capable of that much,” Brontus remarked as I caught up. “Now keep up.” He flicked the reins and the horse sped up. The other two followed suit, Christopher giving me a nod with Sarah’s expression was more pitying. “Uh, keep up,” I told the horse. It huffed, its pace shifting, bucking its rear up just a notch. I yelped as I held tighter but it sped up, keeping up with the others of seemingly its own volition. I felt more like a passenger than a driver, the horse choosing where we would be going, but as long as she stayed with the others, I was content to largely focus on how hard to grip the saddle.

We rode for hours, my legs growing more numb as the horse kept a steady gallop. It wasn’t until early in the evening that Brontus finally slowed us to a stop, jumping off his horse with his reins in hand. I saw the other two follow suit, each sliding off their own mount with practiced grace.

I, however, had yet to descend from a horse on my own. Although it was clear how high above the ground I was as we rode, it hadn’t fully settled in until I finally looked over the edge in preparation to get off. I clutched the front of the saddle, knuckles white as I brought my right leg over, planning to slide down the left flank. Instead, I let out a yelp as I fell, my left foot slipping from the stirrup and sliding without control, landing with one knee on the grassy ground. Beside me, Sarah let out a good natured laugh, and my face burned a bit.

“Eat up, daily ration,” Brontus said, handing me a water skin and a paper wrapped package a little bigger than the size of my fist. I opened it, finding a bread bun with strips of dried meat wrapped around. It was entirely odourless but the sight alone was enough to rouse my appetite, and I wasted no time tearing pieces of the meat off, the dried beef salty but fulfilling. The bun was small but dense, as thick as raw dough even if it was clearly cooked, and I was glad how it filled my stomach, quantity over quality to balance the amount of meat, the occasional bite softened by a sip of water, half of which remained once the food was gone.

“Oh, right,” Brontus grumbled, back turned to us as he fiddled with something in his bag. “I was supposed to give these to you.” He turned around with a bundle of fabric, deep blue rolls with golden swirls sewn into the edges. He came up to me first, shoving one of the rolled up clothes into my hands without a care.

I had suspected what it was but as it unfurled, I gasped in awe. A part of me still marveled at the cloaks, the deep blue cloth, the ornate golden swirls, even the buttons stood out to me, brass shone to a golden glister.

For everything the mages stood for, what they truly were, I still felt proud, beaming as I held it. There was no fanfare, no congratulations, just the roll of cloth shoved into my hands without much ado. I spun it over my shoulders, buttoning it onto myself. It was smaller than the adult ones, lengthened for my size, as if made just for me. I wore it proudly, not for who it stood for, but for what I wanted it to stand for.

I was lost in thought while the other three got back on their horses. “Come on, Ren,” Christopher called.

I nodded before turning and looking up at the horse. My legs were jelly, I could barely stand, and the horse looked taller now than it had when I had first climbed up on it. “Yeah, just… give me a minute,” I grumbled as I

“Oh for— Do you really need help getting back on your horse!?” Brontus snapped at me. “You’re supposed to be an asset on this mission, but just an a—”

“I got it!” I shouted back, my frustration overriding my intelligence or self-preservation. I turned to him, terrified of what he would say or do, but while his eyes got wide, he sucked in his teeth and just pointed at me, threateningly. It was like a countdown, a single finger for the amount of seconds I had to get on.

But I had an idea. Rose, we did always want to be able to ride a horse by ourselves, I thought as I channeled mana. I felt her presence in it, flowing through me. I put a hand on my chest and another on my shirt. As far as I understood, there was no straightforward ‘flying’ magic; rather, mages used their natural magic or learned another that would be able to allow them to fly by some means, whether that be controlling air, propulsion with fire, or even gravity, as Scolffice had taught us. For me, I controlled clothes, and I could make them float.

Nice and easy, I thought as I felt myself rise. It was like wearing a harness, a wrapping that pulled me up. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at the distracting thought that I would be able to do this more, I had no complaints. Slow and stea—Ugh! I grunted as I overcorrected. My shirt had started to ride up so I attempted to pull up my pants, only to give myself a wedgie. I reflexively stopped the effect of the magic, dropping a few inches onto the horse’s saddle, landing the way a male never should. “Oooooo…” I groaned, doubling over a bit, clutching the front of the saddle. Beside me, I spotted Christopher snickering, but it was nothing as Sarah just laughed without shame, as if she had just watched a slapstick performance. I fully stopped channeling mana, the last thought being embarrassment that this time Rose had seen it happen as well.

“Alright, keep moving,” Brontus grunted, his dignity and stoicism at least sparing me of any verbal jabs.

We rode for a few more hours before making camp for the night on the edge of a forest. I had thought that we would light a fire and stay up a while but the sun was already setting and my eyes hung heavy. My body groaned silently. I hadn’t realized that just sitting could be so physically exhausting. I practically flopped off of my horse, falling to my knees before painfully standing back up.

The other three all looked weary, though Brontus least of all, only the slowness of his steps betraying his attempt to hide the exhaustion. Still, they were clearly in better shape than myself.

“Here,” Brontus said, taking the reins from me. “They need to be tied for the night, you barely look capable of holding a rein, much less tying them properly.” He didn’t say anything else as he just stepped aside, adding my horse to his on a low, study-looking tree branch.

“Now,” he continued as the horses were all tied up for the night, “normally we’d build a fire, including tonight, but just so you know, tomorrow will be too risky.” He got something from his pack and dropped it onto a patch of dirt, then faced a tree. He held out a hand, and snapped the fist closed. The lower branches shattered, raining fragments from the length of my finger to the length of my arm, leaving a tree that looked like a lumberjack had been practising hitting everywhere but the trunk. “Christopher, you at least should know what to do.”

The boy wasted no time in scooping up an armful of wood and adding it to the clearing that had been marked, building the pieces up into a respectable fire that Brontus lit. We all had sleep rolls strapped to our horses, behind the saddle, but Sarah was the only one to immediately roll hers out, getting comfy as she treated it like a cushion. I was thankful that the weather was warm this time of year, a steady temperature that tended to keep through the night. And despite my physical exhaustion, my mind was not allowing me to sleep just yet, so I sat with the others as the sun crawled under the horizon.

“So, you control bones, earth, and trees?” I asked Brontus, breaking the silence without thinking.

From across the fire I saw him narrow his eyes at me. “Ren, let me tell you something. And you, too, Sarah. It’s rude to push a senior mage about his skillset. It is both our weakness and our vulnerability, as most are content to stick to their proficiency and not move beyond that.” He looked back into the fire. “But… for you, in this case it could be useful. My magisoul is the man who killed my father. A grave digger and a grave robber. And I can’t control trees, just break raw wood,” he corrected. “When I dream… he puts me in the ground… each and every night. For some reason, you three are the only ones not craving Soulsleep. Maybe that’s why the captain picked you.”

I didn’t know what to think about that. I opened my mouth but Brontus beat me to it as he stood up. “Early morning tomorrow, so sleep now.” It was an order, if not in explicit word then in definite tone. I nodded, taking a final sip from the water skin before laying out the bedroll that had been strapped to my horse and drifting off.