The Horse Came Back Alone, Part 1

Photo: © muha04 | Depositphotos.com

Genre: Fantasy

Note: This is a two-part story.

The horse came back alone. And I knew it was all over.

Edwin was long gone. Probably nothing but ashes now.

He told me that if the horse came back without him, he had failed.

The desert was merciless, and the lava fields even more merciless. But we had done our best to try to get to the top. The top of the mountain that most around here called The Nameless.

They said paradise was at the top. Green fields, centuries-old trees that shaded and fed the landscape. Peaceful animals grazing and living, food for all, cool pools of water. Not like down here where all the pools were filled with lava.

But Edwin hadn’t made it. The horse came back alone.

I steadied Ashe, my horse, and thought about trying it. But failure meant death, certain death, and I wasn't sure I wanted my death to be in molten lava.

I looked at the red sky. It was just like the red earth. And my red horse. And my red skin.

The Nameless stuck out of the landscape like an oasis, which it was. The only living, breathing place in the desert. It was just that no one had made it there.

Well, not in a long time.

The stories said that the fierce warrior, Frederick, had made it to the top many years ago. Still, being the only human there, he had lived out his years without reproducing. Eventually, there were no humans left on The Nameless.

Not only would I have to get there once, but I would also have to come back down and go back with others.

It was our only hope.

The desert was unbearable. The few remaining sources of water were drying up, and the animals we had long lived with in this most unhospitable climate were leaving.

That’s what made us think of it. Of getting to The Nameless because we thought the animals were going there.

I sat on Ashe, holding his reigns, him moving around a little bit in anxiety, and I gripped them a little firmer to let him know that I was in charge.

I would go. I would go to The Nameless.

We set off at a gallop, the familiar heat from the sun and the sand hitting us at top speed. A hot wind, just how I liked it. Like a cooling fire.

Ashe was well-practiced at dodging lava pools. His red body was like a dancing flame as he crossed the terrain. We would have to move fast.

Getting to The Nameless wasn’t simple.

Though anyone could see it on the horizon, the way toward it was never clear. Each time you seemed to be getting close, its position on the horizon would suddenly change. The rider would get confused and disoriented; eventually, the lava pools consumed them.

This is why my people had stopped trying. We had come to believe that The Nameless was nothing more than a mirage, a trick of the devil. The same devil that lorded over us, keeping us consumed with fire.

There was no God like there used to be. It had left us. Left us with the fire.

My body flew along with Ashe as I kept The Nameless in my sights.

I had to believe it was real. It was our only hope.

It was at my 2 o’clock on the horizon. This is what Edwin had said to do. Keep it at two.

The horses always knew. They always knew when you were getting close or when it was over. It was why they could avoid the lava pools, but their riders couldn't.

It was said the devil himself plucked the riders right off the horses, dropping them into the lava. That’s why the horses always come back alone.

They are the only creatures really suited to this environment.

A gift from the devil. Mocking us.

I kept directing Ashe at Twelve o’clock, keeping The Nameless at two and everything felt fine.

"Trust the horse!" Edwin used to say as we practiced getting closer. And the horse always did its job, but the human was another story.

Because eventually, The Nameless would slip from two o'clock, and if its position dropped too far down toward six o'clock, if it went behind you, that's when you were a goner.

Edwin and I, when practicing, when we noticed the slip, would stop and turn around. Letting The Nameless be and saving ourselves.

The horses always got us back.

Ashe was brilliant.

His hooves beat the ground like drums, his mane rode the wind like a kite, and he was one with the landscape.

I was the interloper. The one who didn't belong, and yet I held tighter to the reigns, making sure he kept at twelve o’clock, with The Nameless on my right.

In my vision, the fiery pools below us merged with the fire of the sand as we rode over them, making them seem a little less dangerous.

On Ashe, I could temporarily forget the danger beneath us, his hooves deftly landing between the pools, hitting only sand. It was a beautiful thing to watch.

But The Nameless was slipping.

It was now closer to my three o’clock as I pushed Ashe forward, keeping him toward twelve. My hands hurt from gripping his reigns so tightly, trying to keep moving him the way we needed to go.

He kept veering left, only making The Nameless slip further behind.

I couldn’t have that.

Ashe needed to remain on course.

He just didn’t want to...

Stay tuned for Part 2 next Friday, March 3, 2023.

Amanda Linehan is a multi-genre fiction writer and indie author. She has published 13 titles since 2012 and has been read in 113 countries. Check out her published titles on the Books page.