Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

The Flow Of Time (1/?)

Alvarr's heart beat faster, and he had the urge to bolt as mares and children turned to him. So many eyes, so much expectation and hope.

Don't they understand? My horn guided me here, but now, I don't have a horn. The mage looked at the vast land, turning his head from side to side. In every direction, there was nothing but rain and brown earth with patches of snow that would melt under Fara's rain if they traveled toward it.

But somewhere, the land would change to dry, barren earth and shriveled trees, and thorny flowers grown from the blood of the beast. Would Fara change the land if they passed that way?

And if there were more beasts, for surely there must be, could Alvarr defend himself and the tribe without his horn? Could he find the way? Did he even have magic anymore? His heart stuttered with alarm. "I don't know..." he said, but his voice was so faint that no one could hear him. Perhaps he was just an ordinary stallion now. And did they expect him to leave his foal and his mate? I will not do that!

"Breathe, Alvarr," Laren said, leaning his strong gray side against the mage's own. "It will be all right."

"But I don't know if I still have power," Alvarr said. "My horn is gone. My purpose has been served, hasn't it?"

"You could try to access it," his mate said, and touched Alvarr's nose with his own. "I could use some fresh grass. The children would like it, too."

Alvarr looked away. "It won't grow where the ground is so wet."

"It normally wouldn't grow through snow, either," Laren replied. "If it doesn't happen, then it doesn't." Amusement colored his voice. "But being ordinary isn't so bad, you know."

He's right. Closing his eyes, Alvarr reached for that feeling of Nature, swirling beneath his hooves and through the air. It was there, but it felt separate from him now, no longer a part of him, but just out of reach. "I can sense it, but I can't reach it."

"That is to be expected," Mare-Mother Quirina said, right on his other side.

Alvarr opened his eyes. "It is?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, and gave a great sigh. "Only, no one thought to tell you. How could you know? Mages usually need a time to recover their power after foaling. Even a magical foal like yours, I'd imagine."

Relief left the mage wanting to fold to the ground. "So, it will return?" To his own ears, he sounded like a foal himself, wanting his mother to tell him that everything would be all right.

"I'm sure of it," the mare leader said. She touched noses then moved to the center of the circle again.

A burst of compulsion washed over the tribe, and Alvarr puzzled over its purpose until the younger foals came cantering back to the group. Fara skidded in the mud in front of them, and looked up at the mage with large, long-lashed eyes, as though to ask, what is happening?

She's still just a baby, Alvarr thought, touching noses with his daughter. He looked forward to the time when she could tell them what she was thinking.

"Now, the only question left is, who will go?" the mare leader called. "Who will fetch the stallions, our tribe-brothers and mates, and show them the way back to us?"

Her words were stirring, and Alvarr wanted to volunteer. A sudden burst of homesickness surprised him. He thought he never wanted to see the camp again, but the Elders' and Barron's faces rose in his memory. And a terrible thought chased after: his tribe-brothers, even the ones he had never spoken with, sick and dying because he had taken his sustaining magic from the land.