Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

The Old and the New

When Laren noticed Alvarr sitting up, he knelt by the mage's pallet.  "How are you feeling?"

"Better," the mage said.  "I am just tired from my journey, I think."

The leader nodded once, then stood up and took a step back.  "Then you can resume your duties," Laren said.   "Romeya has taken everything over, and stallions are going hungry."  He paused and swept his gaze over the mage's body.  "But it seems that you have not had this hardship on your journey."

Alvarr stared.  Was this the same person who had carried him to the healing tent and told him to rest? Why would Laren begrudge his good health?  Perhaps he is just worried for the tribe.  That, I can understand.  "I suppose I can," he said, but he hid a faint worry.  What if he could not access his magic?

"Have you lost your mind?" Elder Mastok demanded, as close to angry as Alvarr had ever seen him.  "Alvarr, you are... highly fatigued.  And you, of all people, should be glad that the tribe's only mage is healthy after he has journeyed so far and so long." 

The white-haired old man stepped right up close to the leader and poked him in the chest with a gnarled but steady finger.  "Unless you are going to do nothing but talk quietly with Alvarr, you must leave.  You are bothering my patient."

But Alvarr held up his hand to stop the old man.  "I'm all right.  I am," he insisted at Elder Mastok's frown.  "But I need you and the other Elders here.  I brought something from my journey, something you need to see."  He rose on mostly-steady legs.  "Wait for me."

Halfway to his dwelling, dizziness descended on him once again.  This is not normal.  He stumbled and put his hands on his knees, breathing through the sickness. 

"Alvarr!  You've returned!"

Barron was cantering toward him.  He was so thin, every rib showed.

This is why I must convince everyone of the truth, the mage thought.  I must do all I can.

"Welcome home."  Barron nosed his bare shoulder.  "You've been away so long! Are you all right?" 

"I don't know," Alvarr said, straightening.  He had walked across barren land, swum a swift river, and survived on his own for many days.  Why should he feel so weak now?  It made no sense.

"Put your hand on me," Barron said.  "Lean against me while you walk."

"I'm going far, just to my dwelling," the mage said.

As they walked, Barron asked him many questions about why he had left, and where he had been.  Finally, the mage shook his head.  "I will answer everything, but only after I have the items I need."

When they reached Alvarr's dwelling, the mage pulled the cloth-wrapped bundle out, still tied to the piece of tree trunk.  He dragged it on its vine-rope. 

Barron shifted and crouched next to the cloth.  He pulled some of the white material between his fingers.  "I thought the healing tent was all we had of this!  How did you come to find it?  It's the same, isn't it?"

"It is from the ancient equine camp," Alvarr said, picking up the rope.  He started back toward the healing camp, sliding his bundle behind him.  Has this become heavier?  No, I truly am weaker.  Alvarr was getting winded from even this slow walk.

"You don't look well," Barron said.

"I'm not," the mage admitted.  "I keep getting dizzy, and it's as though something keeps draining my strength."

Barron shifted and took the rope in his teeth, jerking it out of Alvarr's hand.  "I've got it."

Barron is a friend, Alvarr thought in surprise.  The slender young stallion had become someone he could trust.  "Thank you," he said.  With Alvarr leaning against the slender stallion, they walked back to the healing tent.