A man and his horse

I’ve mentioned that I had a horse. I had probably doubled my age by the time I found my horse, the one that walks on air.

By this time, I had already found a nice set of armor and my weapon. I didn’t find my shield until later. All these things in due time.

You may wonder why I only had one weapon and one shield, but you’d be mistaken. I had several of each, but only one of each was really attached to me. Part of my soul. Like my horse.

At my mother’s temple, I was given a leather bag. At first it was empty, but I was told I must always have it with me. This is the same bag I mentioned before that would allow me to walk into my castle. I didn’t know about the doorway part of the bag at this time, and really couldn’t tell you if it worked that way at the time.

From time to time, I would feel the bag move. Look inside, and there’d be a note. Map may be a better word, but there was always just a small picture showing a location, and a description of what I was looking for. This was how I found all the tools I needed to perform my primary quest for my father and mother.

This time, it led me to a horse. I liked that idea. You are probably most comfortable in your Nike or New Balance shoes, or whatever you found at your store. I didn’t have that luxury. I could definitely buy shoes, but they didn’t last long. Usually long enough to get away from the shop and too far to walk back. So, I was still making shoes at this time.

Your imagination is now turning to the set of armor I said I had. Shoes weren’t included. What about flying, since I was an eagle after all. I did fly often, but there were definite drawbacks. Especially in areas where food was scarce. I was never in any real danger, but it was enough that walking was just easier. I did eventually find a nice set of magic boots to go with my armor, but that wasn’t now.

This map had me go to the mountains in the western part of Drak-Bar’s Boulders, and I was at the eastern ocean. The seasons would change back to where I had started. This is why I mentioned shoes.

Most shoes were leather, some were wood. And then there were metal shoes. Not like a horse’s metal shoe on Earth. But a metal shoe that had leather or wood attached to grab the ground. That’s it. You’ll note the distinct lack of leather on the inside of the shoe. Foot on metal for what you’d call a year. Not the best purchase I’d ever made.

After a few normal days, I tossed the metal shoes and tied tree branches wrapped in leather to my feet. This lasted for a couple more days, and turned into leather strip shoes. A lot of leather strip shoes. I found another town on the way.

Thankfully, this town had a problem just for me. It seems they kept seeing thieves, but could never catch them. Their problem was where they were looking, which was on the ground where people walk. These thieves didn’t walk. Birds.

Birds were stealing shiny things in their town to decorate their nests. I scared the birds and got a really nice set of shoes. Not all adventures are glamorous.

I zig-zagged from town to town, just to make a little extra coin and feel the comforts of a bed. And a well-cooked meal. And a nice warm bath.

After a couple years of this, I finally made it to the edge of my little picture. It showed me on the map now. Magic. I was a little blue dot. If I squinted just right, it looked like a tiny pair of shoes. I didn’t look at the map again.

You would think that there would have been an endless night about now as my mother kept tabs on me. Nope. Endless day. I did know the sun god by this time, and he was a good god, but rarely answered questions. Less rare was his ability to make the air a bit warm. Remember, I’m wearing a full suit of armor at this time. It’s pretty and shiny, but it isn’t very light. Or cooling. I had the previous town’s mage cast a spell to give some comfort against the heat. It lasted about a day. I think it may have been a wizard disguising himself as a mage.

You may be wondering what the difference between a mage and wizard really is. For starters, they both use magic. But, mages feel pain and don’t look like oozing balls of tentacles. Mages look just like anyone else, but their hands are usually a little thinner with long fingers. And bruised finger tips.

You see, anyone can tap into the fabric that was woven with magic. But, the harder you pulled on the strings, the harder they pulled back. Keep doing this, and you’ll develop calluses to start, then bruising. Casting a simple healing spell, light spell, or fire spell really didn’t stress your fingers a lot. The strings were fairly simply to knot into these shapes. But, more powerful and complex spells require a lot more weaving. And, you have to be careful to leave an end loose, as once both ends are tied, the spell triggers. Some complex spells have several ends that must be tucked in, and they untuck themselves if you aren’t careful. This changes the result of the spell. So instead of healing someone that broke their leg in a fall, you may just turn them into a roast. This only happens when their loved ones are present, of course. Not that I had ever seen that happen.

As you pluck more and more magic strings, they begin to distort your very being. Fingers turn into tentacles, and bodies turn into blobs of goo. This is a wizard. And you thought it was a figure of speech. You may still see a person, but I can see the goo.

I will give you some advice if you ever happen by a wizard or mage. When you are speaking with them, watch their lips. If what you’re hearing and what the lips are doing are different, hit them as hard as you can with whatever weapon you can find. It’s also best to keep their hands occupied at all times. Give them an unsolvable puzzle to play with.

After climbing the mountain, and asking the sun god to take a nap, repeatedly, I found a nice cave. Right at the snow line. It was still hot. I didn’t see anyone around, so I decided to make a small camp. This was primarily a chance to slip out of my armor.

It was cold outside. That was definitely a wizard in that town. I hate wizards.

After melting enough water to make soup, quench my thirst, and wash my clothes, my armor started to cool. A little. I needed the night to come.

I spent a few sleep cycles on top of the mountain, never venturing into the cave. Until the seventh sleep. There wasn’t a lot of snow left on the mountain top, so I slipped back into my armor and went into the cave. Maybe ten steps in. Probably eight. There was a sleeping horse. Sound asleep. I probably could have removed the mountain above him stone by stone, and he’d still be asleep.

I looked at the map. The moon rose above the horizon. I was no longer a pair of shoes. I was now a red piece of armor. And they say the gods have no sense of humor.

They don’t. The moon was enough to wake the horse, who didn’t seem to happy that there was someone in front of him. Did I mention this horse could breathe fire? Magic flames. Blue and purple magic flames. The kind that turn metal armor into bright red glowy armor.

But, I had a horse.

After all the smoke had cleared, and the remainder of the mountain snow was flooding a town below, I was able to connect with my horse. I also had a horse’s favorite food. A root that only grew near the ocean. Horses can’t dig. And fire-breathing horses don’t like water. But they still like orange roots.

I hear many people on Earth talk about having a connection with their pet animal, believing they understand what the animal is thinking. They are likely wrong. Because this was my horse, created by my mother, he could talk in my mind. Incessantly. Even when asleep.

I believe I’ve described my horse before, but his coat was as white as the snow we just melted. And like snow, he glistened in the light. His hooves and nose were as black as the night sky, complete with stars. His eyes swirled with blue and purple patterns, like the fire he breathed.

He did have four sturdy legs that were used for walking. He also had two small wings. These weren’t used for flying, but for holding onto your leg. He had a penchant for doing barrel rolls in the sky. I think it was to make sure I was still listening. At his request, I bought a pair of armored boots that were more comfortable for him to hold onto. I lost them two days out of town. Then a map showed up in my leather bag.

Flying Lessons

Flying. It’s a wonderful experience, feeling the wind against your skin, the hair rushing through your hair. It has to be the best feeling you can have.

Until you realize you should have feathers and wings.

These thoughts usually come fairly quickly, but not as quick as the ground racing to greet you. Soon. So is the process of learning. Yes, I can typically transform into an eagle in a short time, but not that short. And, not frequently. Gods are fickle when they give you a little power. You still have to honor them. Even if they are your mother.

What does the honor in this case mean? Well, it’s an unspoken rule. Mostly. The speaking part comes when you don’t provide the honor part, and you just don’t transform. Having a meal, or spending a significant time in a form is a good start. Think of it this way. If you visit your mom, shouldn’t you eat dinner with her? I hadn’t been doing this recently.

I had just found my horse. Fast Racer, Moon Hoof, Moon Racer, whatever he wanted to be called. Part of having a horse that walks on air is getting used to how he walks. And turns. And, did you know that a horse that walks on air can still buck? I found this out a few seconds ago. Just before that, we decided to have a race. Him running on air and me flying in eagle form. I won’t say who won out of respect, but it led to an aggressive turn that just happened to make him unstable and buck just a little.

We had flown together a few times. Correction, sorry, I flew and he walked. But, we traveled toward the ocean this way. He insisted it was faster than me riding and him walking. I don’t think he liked my armor. Or weapon. Apparently, he could hear those magical voices as well. I almost felt sorry for him.

We would eventually fix that riding thing with a nice saddle that Klarys made. But, he had to learn to just listen to the voices.

This sorry feeling faded fairly quickly, about as quickly as that ground was moving. Still no wings. Or feathers.

We would return to this island many times in the next few seasons. Just to figure out this whole flying together thing. Especially when my speedy steed turned from hair and flesh into a gem stone. For some reason, that changed how he moved. Kinda like the difference between a two-legged land creature and an eagle when stuck in the air.

Size matters. I admit that. I can’t really relate to how big, or small, I was in Earth terms. But, I can give a relative size. I think I may have before, but memory is fickle. But, most people of my race stood to my shoulder. And they were much thinner. Mainly because they didn’t need as much chest muscle to work wings.

But, as big as I was, my horse stood that much more than the average horse. Maybe petting zoo pony versus Clydesdale. If you can imagine some discomfort from doing the splits, you can imagine riding my horse. Not something you really want to wrap your legs around, but I didn’t have much choice. It prevented the circumstances I presently found myself in.

There are certainly advantages to having such a large horse. Mobil shield is one of those. That you don’t mention out loud. Ever. Pack weight is another. Thing you don’t mention. Or tent pole. Or tent. Thankfully, he never saw Star Wars and what Luke did to survive the cold. I’m sure he wouldn’t have liked that either.

Reins. Typically, your horse would have a bridle that he got to chew on or play with and you get reins to suggest a turn or stop. Bridle was a big no. He argued that he could speak and hear. I’m not too sure on the latter. Reins also give you something to hang on to. I did eventually talk him into a set of reins. But, they were attached to his chest armor. No bridle. No helmet. A fully armored horse with nothing around his head.

The ground is getting close now. I smiled. I was thinking how my horse tried to roast me alive when we first met. Not too hard, mind you. Breathing fire was a common theme for animals in my world. Thing is, not all fire is the same. Some is hot, some is not. And some will even freeze you in place. It all looks the same, unfortunately. Some animals just use it to see if you’re really tough enough for them to be around. At least one was that way.

He knew his destiny before we met. We were born at the same time, made of the same material. He spent his time eating and growing, focusing on the former. Not too long before we met, he was taught some of his many skills, mainly fire breath and how to become really big. Really fast. The only warning I would get when he decided he was too small was my legs becoming free to move. In the early days, this pretty much meant I was going to fall towards the ground. Like today.

But, even as the ground grew close, I was in no real danger. I swung my feet underneath my body and landed squarely on the back of a really, really large horse.