Enzo shoved a block of paper-wrapped sead bread into a saddle pocket, a frown of displeasure creased on his face. He scoffed, "Why of all people did she have to send you?"
"And what ever for are you complaining? I thought we were friends," mused Valleric, leisurely stroking a dappled grey mare. She stood calm, relishing in her last moments of peace before the journey. Her fuzzy muzzle flicked at Valleric's hand when he stopped the lulling motions.
Enzo grumbled, "Used to be when we were kids. I've grown tired of your mischievous habits. And, to add, I have to saddle up your mule, you spoilt prick!"
Valleric raised a brow. "A mule? You are blinded by bitterness, for if you widen your eyes, you would recognize her golden colour of Daffodils. You should be honored because she belonged to the late prince."
A cloud seemed to summon above Enzo's head as his frown softened to an expression of some sympathy. His face slowly turned back towards the yellow mare who in fact stood with excitement yet obediently still. Her ears were perked towards their conversation, her head swishing once in a while, her nostrils wide. "It must be a bore to stand around all day, since her master has left her behind in the world of living..." thought Enzo aloud. His hands gently tugged on the strings to tie the bags closed. With a final pat he stepped back, motioning with his hand towards Daffy. "Your royal ride is ready."
Valleric straightened, walking across towards to reach for the reins, which were wrapped over a pole. "Why thank you, Enzo. Now we can finally lift off." He smiled. "We cannot keep the Queen waiting in her study all week now can we?"
"Of course." Nodded Enzo, swinging himself onto the saddle, yanking the reins towards the exit of the stables.
Once Enzo stood waiting, his mare trampling in anticipation, Valleric sucked in a breath. He forced the air to calmly drift from his lungs, as if it were to be to be the last breath of peace he could relish. His clammy palms tightened on the leather straps, guiding the golden mare to meet the outside light. Valleric wasted no time to hop on in the saddle, his legs tensing as the balls of his feet slid into the stirrups. As his heels pressed down, a fire ignited in the noble beast below him. The mare snorted fiercely, her ears forward. Her hoof pawed the earth, waking the sleeping spirits of the soil, notifying them of her departure — warning them to behave in her absence.
Vally smiled all the while a piece of his heart chipped. It pained him to imagine Drystan seated in this very saddle, petting his flutter horse, tempting Daffy with a thrilling adventure as his heels would squeeze her ribs, and her mighty hooves would leap into a gallop. Vally twisted his hands into her mane, gripping it tightly. He relaxed. With a click of his tongue, the mare sprung into the air, her wings spreading with elegant ease, leading the wind to her advantage.
Enzo fluttered close behind. "You have changed since we were youngins. Since when were you so hesitant in a saddle?" hollered Enzo, his voice fighting the breeze to reach the pointed ears of the lord. Valleric did not bother to turn his attention from the gloriously clear view. "I never changed. You just never knew me well enough," he replied.
It was true. No one ever truly knew Valleric for who he truly was. In fact, non of his best mates grew up with the knowledge of his real name. As a teen he would pick a nickname and stick to it. Later on, he came learn of false identities. He learnt to adapt numerous names to himself in different environments. All which would remain the same was his reputation. Him being a Shadow Guard. A spy.
As Valleric sat, his wings folded and wind whipping against his hair, he recalled a memory:
One summer night, a group of dauntless young boys set out with sugar-filled satchels towards an island. He could vaguely remember all their faces; though, one stood out. The instigator of the mission himself: Drystan Deveraux, the young prince. "Spunky, you're the bravest of the lot," whispered the devious prince, "You will be the first to jump onto the back of the wild flutter pony."
Young Valleric smirked, his nerves practically demanding to release the strain of adrenalin rushing through his boyish frame. He signed himself up for trouble the moment he befriended the prince. He was aware of all the thrills attached to Drystan, so willingly, he allowed himself to be swooped in.
Little did he know he was about to discover a minor fear of his... riding flutter horses...
The lads crawled up behind crumbled black rocks as they immersed from the beach. Oblivious creatures scattered over a moss field. Unsuspected, the young boy crunched over the damp earth, the droplets soaking Spunky's cotton shirt. Crawling silently, he neared a horse which was separated from the heard. It nuzzled under its snug wings, the fuzz tickling the cold air.
Valleric glanced over his shoulder as he laid flat on the halfway mark. Pointed ears peeped from behind their shelter, curiously peeking out once in a while. Though, one face kept its constant gaze on him. Drystan. Drystan kept his eyes on Spunky, watching how he smoothly moved inch by inch over the grass, nearing the horse. Once the young boy was a good distance from the creature, his shoulders pushed him from the ground, the balls of his feet stepping ever so lightly to avoid any crunching.
He stole another glance over his shoulder. His now uncertain eyes met with those cunning orbs of the prince. Drystan mouthed encouraging words, his hand motioning Spunky to go on and complete the quest. A wave of unease washed over the boy, his legs feeling unsteady as he unnoticeably wobbled forth.
The horse stirred. He paused, expression hard, his breathing shallow. Inwardly he prayed that no wind would betray his location to the flutter horse. He stepped closer.
The air was cool. The faint sound of waves lapping against the shore hummed in the background. It was a calm evening. Calm until the serenity of the scene was interrupted by uncomfortable jolting followed by heavy snorts.
Spunky had done it! He wrapped around the horse, sticking onto its back like tree sap. He knotted his fists tightly into the strawish mane of the beast, his skinny legs clenching around the girth. His shoulders tensed as the wild creature stumbled up from its rest, its hooves thundering onto the ground, its wings spreading viciously, intimidating the surroundings with its fury.
Faint hollers tainted the air, the boys yelling in victory for Valleric, yet all he could do was clench for dear life. He did not favor a dirt-filled mouth, nor a blue kick mark on his body. Out of the blue, they were in the air, the steed whooshing through the air, desperate to berid of the pest latched onto his back. Nonetheless, Spunky held on.
The creature dared to flip and twirl violently. Spunky still held on for dear life. His breath would hitch as the horse bucked, occasionally knocking the boy's ribcage. Spunky clenched his jaw, praying the stallion would eventually give up or tire out.
And so the stallion did, rapidly calming down his loops into an eased soar through the air. Valleric dared open his eyes, the world beneath clear for once, the ground stood still and he could breathe without haste.
Just as his nerves settled, he released his grip, spreading his young wings, Spunky flapped off the stallion's back, returning to the cheers below him. As his tense feet returned to the sturdy floor, he stumbled. His legs were like honey jelly, wobbling as he lost his balance right into a pair of welcoming arms. Hands caught him right under his arms. When his eyes glanced up, they met no other than Drystan's smirk.
"I knew you could do it. You are impressive, Spunky," he congratulated, helping his friend to his feet, dusting off his shirt with a proud grin.
Valleric sheepishly smiled, still rattled by the experience. His hand nervously reached up to scratch his tossed-up hair. "I'm glad I could impress," he answered.
"How could you ever not create an impression?" laughed Drystan, patting his pal on the shoulder, "You are absolutely brilliant."