Flamebound: Legacy

Chapter 2

On their way back to the Herd after grazing, Brightshine and Sparkleap discussed the Trials.

"The first one won't be hard," Brightshine said, her golden-brown gaze thoughtful.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Even though Smokewind is a little bigger, I'm healthy and strong. Plus I'm taller," he added.

Brightshine snickered.

"Smokewind is lucky he didn't inherit his father's legs. 'Oh, look at me, I'm the big, strong Chief Stallion, shorter than a tree stump,'" Brightshine mocked in a grumbly voice. Sparkleap tried and failed to hide his laugh.

"Your humor is terrible," he huffed, bumping her side with his hip and nearly knocking her over. Brightshine regained her balance and sniffed.

"Oh yeah? And how would you do it?" she taunted.

"Hmm, I think he looks a little more like this," Sparkleap said, kneeling on the ground and scooting himself across the grass on his belly. Brightshine burst into giggles and collapsed on the ground beside him.

"You look like a bloated snake with legs," she snorted.

"I think that's called a lizard, Brightshine," Sparkleap smirked.

"Sparkleap! What are you doing?"

Sparkleap leaped to his hooves in a hurry, feeling hot with embarrassment. His mother Goldenmane, trailed by Brightshine's mother Silverblaze, trotted over to them with a glare.

"That's not a way to speak of the Chief Stallion, Sparkleap. You know that," she scolded. Sparkleap rolled his eyes but dipped his head, acknowledging his mother and her friend. Silverblaze gave him a stern look but winked, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Goldenmane sighed and shook out her glistening mane. It was no secret that Sparkleap's mother was the most beautiful mare in the Herd. After his father had died nearly two years ago, the three understallions remaining had sought her as a mate. Goldenmane had refused, determined to remain loyal to her first love.

Sparkleap was beginning to worry about Firetail, though. The headstrong young stallion had had a 'thing' for his mother long before the battle with Sparkstep. Some steeds even whispered that Firetail had only killed Sparkstep to take his mate.

Sparkleap snorted, swatting a buzzing fly with his tail.

Stallions were foolish.

But not Sparkleap.

His contemplation had steered him nearer to Brightshine, who was trailing her mother, her silvery mane rippling in the wind and her hips swaying with every step. Brightshine was beautiful too, Sparkleap realized, not for the first time. Her eyes were playful and soft, and her muzzle was delicate and refined. She had a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. Sassy and quick-witted, like her father.

Sparkleap wished he had known his father.

Yes, for the first three moons of his life, Sparkstep had been alive. As a two-year-old, Sparkleap could only remeber snatches and fragments of memories with his father: Blowing his soft breath into Sparkleap's nostrils in greeting; smelling of sweet grasses and windy fields. Nipping Sparkleap playfullly with careful teeth, Goldenmane chasing him off for being too rough.

And falling under the crack of a hoof, a splash of blood staining his head and Sparkleap's heart forever.

Shivering suddenly, Sparkleap pressed himself against Brightshine's warm gray-and-gold flank. She turned her head, her glittering amber-gold gaze imploring. Sparkleap avoided her beautiful eyes, his throat feeling as if a Flamesnake had wrapped its sinewy body around him and was sqeezing, choking, burning.

Brightshine bumped his hip with hers softly, sensing that her friend needed comfort. Sparkleap felt strangled. How did he deserve her?

They soon reached the sloping hill where Firehoof Herd was grazing, the tall, flame-colored grasses rippling in the breeze and making the ground seem like it was caught in a blazing inferno.

Tails swished and ears pricked as the band of four approached the Herd, and a few steeds nickered cheerfully in greeting.

Not Firemane.

The Chief Stallion paced restlessly, his hide twitching and tail snapping impatiently. His squat legs looked almost comical compared to his muscular body; he definitely wasn't the prettiest stallion around. His ears were pressed flat against his skull and his eyes were wild, the whites showing like glinting stars in the blackest, coldest night.

"You!" he bellowed, stomping aggressively in Sparkleap's direction. Though Sparkleap was tall for his age, the massive stallion towered over the young colt.

"Have you seen my son?" he thundered, arching his short neck.

Sparkleap shook his head mutely, not trusting himself to speak.

Firemane snarled, eyes blazing, and spun away.

"Can anyone here tell me where Smokewind has gone?!" He roared.

Then Sparkleap remembered: he and Brightshine had seen Smokewind, right before he'd puffed off in the direction of the woods.

"Wait! Chief Stallion." Sparkleap croaked.

The massive leader turned his head, fixing Sparkleap with his penetrating gaze. Sparkleap gulped, his ears rotating and twitching nervously.

"I - I did see Smokewind. He . . . . he grazed with Brightshine and I earlier and then went toward the woods." He'd meant to sound strong and confident, but to his own ears his voice sounded like a strangled mouse.

Judging from his expression, Firemane had noticed too. He snorted impatiently.

"Good. Since you and your filly-friend were the last to see him, both of you will go and find him."

Sparkleap forced himself not to droop like a shriveled wildflower. Brightshine didn't look too happy either; her tail lashed at invisible insects and her ears were pinned in defiance. She didn't argue, however, and spun around, hooves savagely gouging the dry earth.

Sparkleap followed her as she stomped away, quivering with rage like a blade of grass in the wind. He hung his head and let his mind wander to the Trials again. His thoughts twisted and spiraled through his skull, spinning with hopes, fears, and questions.

Once again he was so caught up in his own head he outpaced Brightshine. His breathing became heavier and heavier as a feeling of dread settled, rock-hard, in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn't realized he was running until he felt the wind rushing through his mane. His breath came in snorts and gasps as he narrowed his eyes against the gusts and galloped faster. An unexplainable foreboding fell like a shadow over him, and he turned in the direction of the forest.

Soon twigs lashed against his hide and branches snapped his muzzle. He barreled on, oblivious to the pain. The dread was overwhelming now, giving strength to his legs and a rush of air to his lungs.

He slowed abruptly, Brightshine's whinnies fading behind him. The shadows seemed darker and deeper here than anywhere else; a strange slithering feeling wrapped sinister tendrils around his chest. Up ahead the bushes parted in a small clearing, where a small plant or rock took shape before him.

He felt drawn to the dark shape there in the center, nostrils pulsing as he inhaled the scent of soot and ash. The air felt strangely dead.

With a growing sense of heart-pounding horror Sparkleap advanced on the rock, before realizing it wasn't a rock.

He gagged, the smell of death heavy in the air.

It was the body of Smokewind, crisped and blackened like some shriveled-up tree.