The Gunslinger

Riding On A Current (Scene 03)

Genna woke from her dream all of a sudden. She pushed her hat up so she could peer into the quiet darkness of her room but she couldn't see why any reason for why she'd woken up with such a start.

The bright moonlight shone through the moth-eaten curtains which danced in the soft summer night's breeze. She yawned and sat up, a nagging feeling in the back of her head not letting her go back to sleep. A headache was forming between her brows and Genna slowly came to the realization that she knew why she'd woken.

Another Quest.

She sighed and put her clothes on again, feeling more tired than when she'd pulled them off and fallen into bed just a few hours before. The growing headache behind her eyes was becoming more and more insistent, the longer she took to get dressed, gather her things and get outside; on the road.

She'd paid in advance to get the room for a full week, a stupid mistake if she'd ever made one. Genna had no time to find the owners at this late hour and argue to get her money back, so she bit back the bitterness at the amount of money lost and marched to the stables.

Alterro wasn't happy to be woken at this hour either but he knew his rider's schedule never stayed the same and so he didn't put up a fight when she saddled him. Genna patted her faithful companion's grey neck, opened the door of his stable and jumped onto his back.

Leading the horse out into the night, Genna steered him the way she felt was right. Since she had as little idea where they would end up as he did, it was the best she could do. But the compass had never led her wrong. And neither had her father ever been led wrong, or so he'd said, whatever that was worth.

Richard Redhand had taught her all she knew today and though he hadn't been a great father, at least he'd been a good teacher. Still, the nature of their bloodline's curse left her wholly unprepared when she suddenly woke with her father's Revolver in her hand one night, just a few days shy of her 19th birthday.

The wind beat harsh and cold against her face, her mantle whipping behind her like a cape as Alterro rode, carried by a current of magick older than Genna was aware. She took it for granted and seldom questioned things such as those - they were better not to be meddled with, her grandparents had insisted, though they'd meant it differently than Genna now interpreted it.

The lands flew by whilst Alterro's hoofs kicked up the packed dirt of the road. The rider wondered what they looked like to anyone they passed - did they see a normal rider? Or nothing at all? A blurred speck, gone so quickly that one doubted whether it had even been real?

They passed dark villages, small settings and large towns on their way and even though Alterro was all but flying through the landscape, Genna felt a pressing need; like she knew she had to be somewhere other than she was but she'd forgotten where.

Whoever had summoned her was in trouble, deep trouble, it seemed. She urged her horse on and though he huffed in protest, he quickened his pace even further.