The Draw

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Castiel was flying. Cold ocean water sprayed his face in a fine mist and the ragged cliffs of Laurence to his left began to blur together. Thighs and arms burning from holding the animal beneath him in a straight line along the surf, he was grateful for the late October air. He risked a glance down to the bare muscular form he pressed between his legs. An expanse of gold slicked with sweat and salt water stretched out far below him, muscles rippling under thin skin as the huge animal engulfed the beach with its hungry strides. Angry waves crashed into boulders embedded in the soft earth with bone crunching force, roaring fearsomely at the pair.

The creature's slim legs extended and contracted, stretching out for what seemed like miles from Castiel's vantage, perched just behind its serpent like neck, currently rounded into a rigid arc. The boy's thin fingers adeptly ran through the animal's milky mane, and without stop knotted and unknotted the hair into three pieces, tugging slightly with every tie completed. With every pull at the hair, the creature seemed to be dragged back.

He remembered when his father had dragged the beast out of the water. How it had taken ten people six hours just to tear the creature from the surf, four more to drape it in pounds of iron and crosses to silence its eardrum bursting screams. That the group, short of three people who lay broken to the side, has just managed to keep him from thrashing, standing like a gilded king, golden coat blazing in the early morning sun and murder in his black eyes. He remembered it took exactly 3 gallons of holy water pumped into the water horse's veins and stomach, until the steaming liquid had poured through its nose and mouth just for the beast to lower his head, hate still burning darkly in his eyes, lips pulled back to reveal sharp canines.

The animal did not sound for the rest of the journey. The stable had special prisons for the monsters, iron barred stalls with crosses and sigils etched into every inch of the thick oak that boarded the metal. Castiel's father has taken him aside immediately, telling him to never go near the locked cell if he wanted to come out again. Mr Novak prided himself in a fearless tact with the water horses that only lead to success, but something apprehensive glinted dangerously in his aged blue eyes. "We didn't catch a capaill uisce Castiel, we caught the devil," He said softly as the pair climbed to their house a short walk away from the racing barn. "And he will tempt you."

From his house every night, Castiel could hear the stallion's cries for the ocean. They were not the furious shrieks of him being torn from his home that he sounded day after day of training, but lonely keens. The skinny raven-haired boy could not stop his heart from twisting painfully with every call the horse made for its home. The sounds only increased with every day closer to November as the ocean's magic grew stronger.

Not being able to help himself anymore, Castiel pulled on his boots and crept past his father's room. Slipping out of his house, he paused and grabbed a small lantern hanging from their porch. Soon he was padding down the entrance to the barn turning towards the section which kept a handful of water horses, his pulse quickening. The stallion's soft rumbles still held a deep ferocity from a short distance. Sliding the wooden door open, wincing at the creaking noise. He was not the only one who heard the noise, and as soon as he stepped into the shadows, his lamp giving him a small sphere of dim light, there was only silence.

Freezing for a second, Castiel could only stare dumbly ahead, just making out the glint of the iron bars in front of him. Stepping one more pace forward, the boy hesitantly held the lantern out ahead of him and squinted. The light had found the stallion's murky eyes, glittering wetly in the small flame, void of any emotion save cautious intrigue at the feeble human. If he strained his ears, he heard a faint tinkling noise the iron chain blanket made as the horse quivered slightly in discomfort. Silence was for the first time in Castiel's life, uncomfortable and so slowly lowering himself onto the cool stone, he began to whisper across the small void to the creature. The shivering stopped.

Every night for months he crept down from his house to ask it questions about the sky and the sand and the sea. He told the stallion about his mother's absence, how the only place he felt he fit was atop monsters, asked it to take care of his father, pleaded with it not to eat his only family. Content with the silence he got in return, Castiel felt a pull to the caged horse with a slender gold head that greeted him every night with pricked hears, listening with interest.

He burst into the stable in the early hours of the morning on a chilled April, the sun still hours away from rising, lamp swinging forcefully from his pace. He dropped the light on a nearby feed box and jogged up to the confinement, pressing his hands to the bars. The usual chiming of iron chain-link was amplified to a sharp clanging, the golden horse in front of him shaking violently from the overzealous assortment of religious emblems draped across his back.

Muttering angrily about the cruel reprimand the water horse had gotten for attacking a young trainer today, Castiel apologized profusely to the stallion, murmuring excuses for his father's harshness and explaining why his father wouldn't let him help train the creature. Pausing, he reached into his pocket and stood staring at the key he snatched from his father's coat. Taking the heavy padlock in his hand, the boy fit the key into the hole, and glanced up at the giant, taking in his loftiness fully. As always, he was unable to read any emotion except vague curiosity. Taking a shallow breath, he turned the key, hearing the pop of the mechanisms inside. Determined to continue what he came to do, Castiel caught the reflection of his father's deep blue eyes in the dented metal and setting his jaw, he pushed the cage door open.

Like he did with the other, older water horses he worked with that the racing stable held captive, Castiel breathed deeply, calming himself and pressed his iron ring into the stallion, pushing slightly, willing the horse back. Leashing it with a frayed rope, he tied the still shuddering creature to one of the bars. Ring still pushed into its shoulder, he gingerly he began stripping the layers of iron off of its back. Castiel untangled every rosary from its mane and tale, and lifted the weights from the creature's slender ankles. Taking a rag from his pocket in the weak firelight, the boy gently rubbed into the stallions sweat crusted hair, brushing the golden hide into a silky texture. Working into his neck, Castiel felt a sharp pressure on his shoulder and his heart jumped into his throat, entire body stiffening minutely. Feeling his heart beat jump into an impossibly fast pace, he shifted his eyes, not daring to turn his head. When he found the monster's snakelike neck craned, mouth resting heavily in the crook between his neck and back, rubbing back and forth and grooming, his body sagged in relief. And, for the first time in years, Castiel found a smile softening his stony expression.

Castiel, as expected, grew into one of the most talented riders in Laurence in the next years, and yet his father still kept him away from the metallic capaill uisce, night visits were only time with the horse. This only changed four years ago during the Scorpio Races when a grey mare ripped his only relative from his high perch on the stallion, tearing into his neck. Castiel lost his father that day, but gained his best friend.

His partner let out a dramatic war cry, picking up his already thunderous pace and the lean teenager was brought out of his thoughts. A burst of sharp laughter ripped its way out of Castiel's mouth at the ridiculousness of his horse and the monster beneath him, sensing the good mood, asked for more rein. Feeling more than slightly high on the adrenalin of the first run of the racing season, the boy threw the reins out in front of him and let the horse beneath him devour what was left of the stretch of sand.

The animal came to a sudden stop in front of a cliff, bouncing in place. Castiel slipped off him, used to the large fall. Playfully nudging his owner, the blue eyed boy was not responsive, his eyes on the ocean. He was distracted by the crest of a wave, which was rapidly changing into what looked more like a top line of an equine. The gold stallion now turned his thinly boned face to the roar of the waves to match his rider. The draw of the sea was not strong enough in October to be any interest to him. He had not swam freely in the November waters of Laurence for five years, though the young man by his side was more than a reason to stay. Their bond had become something legendary after an undefeated four-year title.

Turning towards his partner, the animal allowed Castiel to lower his head, cradled in his hands. Foreheads pressed together, the boy whispered to the animal.