The Magician's Vow: A Retelling of The Pied Piper of Hamelin

Part I - Chapter VIII: Peace & Perfection

I have been away from Lorelle for far too long. I worry that she might be in great pain and suffering. What would be worse is if my absence has contributed to this. I have been gone since midday and now night is already upon us. If Lorelle has awakened at all during my absence, I wonder what she believed had happened to me. It has long been known that worry and anxiety do nothing good to the health of a person. 

I must be grateful to Robert de Kislingbury and the council for allowing me to return home to make the flute. They still do not know about Lorelle and her condition. I am not sure if it is something that would aid me with my negotiations with them or if will only serve as leverage against me. I cannot take the risk of them using her to gain what they want from me. For now, I will remain silent on the subject. 

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The rain had begun again and Eugene was soaked through to his very bones. For a minute, during the first few minutes out in the downpour, he considered creating a covering for himself or dispelling the rain around him. But he knew that making the flute would take much of his strength and he did not want to risk the chance that he would make the flute too weak and incapable of completing its purpose. Between success and comfort, there was no contest. He would endure the cold rain.

The little horse’s beneath him dragged its feet through the growing mud. Its coat was soaked through and its head hung down to the ground, its muzzle nearly touching the road. They had been on the road for an hour at the very least and they still had not reached the midway point between London and Antvrae. At this pace, they would reach Eugene’s hometown at midnight. There simply was no time for such a thing.

But Eugene did not have the heart to whisper more words of comfort into the pony’s flattened ear. It was not often that Eugene used magic on other living beings and he had forgotten the effect it had on them, especially when using strengthening or livening spells. It was almost as if the life they received through the spells were only borrowed from their future and as time passed, they returned back to the way they were and then quickly regressed into a weaker, more fatigued version of their already worn out state. Eugene did not want to take the chance that another spell would kill the poor little horse. 

But it did not seem as if the pony could carry the magician for much longer. 

Eugene swung his leg over the horse’s back and jumped to the ground. His worn-out boots were instantly soaked through from the large puddle they had stopped in. The water seeped into the thin leather and his feet were hit with an icy wall of water. With every step he took, it felt as if weights had been tied to his feet, making each attempt at walking a strain. 

It would take too long for them to return home. There was no time to waste. Each moment that passed was another second lost on Lorelle’s life. 

Eugene pressed a hand to the horse’s cheek and stared into its dark eyes. 

“You are free, little one,” he said. “Go.” 

The pony nickered and nipped at Eugene’s collar. It shook its mane and its eyes brightened a tad. It looked around, at the forest to the west and to the river in the east. To both the south and north were open fields. Without a glance back at Eugene it tossed its head and trotted towards the thick meadows, the smell of fresh grass luring its nose. 

It quickly disappeared over a short hill. 

A sharp pain hit Eugene in the chest, and his throat tightened. It was so simple for the little horse. With one sentence, it was free from all that had weighed it during its life. It was able to simply leave, without a single glance or a single bitter thought. It had no cares and no worries.