Paragon Prince

Chapter Two

Alexander

Harold and I manage to succeed in tilling the majority of the fields before Silas is visible again, weaving in and out of homes as he is steered closer to the back wall of the kingdom. We have our backs propped against the stone of the wall, sitting beneath the shade of it and looking out at the freshly turned soil of his plot of land. 

My old friend falls quiet once Illius and his Vann-Hest are close enough for him to notice, and makes an effort to pull himself to his feet. I reach to touch his arm and offer a soothing smile. 

"It's alright," I convince him to stay seated beside me with the tone of my voice and a hand on his shoulder. It is in his nature to resume business when in the presence of someone higher ranking than himself, but he trusts enough in my words to remain with me, against his better judgment. "This is just my friend. He is bringing us lunch." 

Illius pulls Silas to a halt yards away from us, aware of how nervous he makes Harold. He carries a covered basket in his hand and dismounts, holding it up as he walks towards us as if waving a flag of peace for the old man to see. 

"Hello again," He greets, pausing to set the basket beside me. "I have to tie this beast up, but I will be right back." He goes to do as promised before Silas breaks the silent command given to him and he makes a break towards the middle of the city, where many women and children go about their day unsuspectingly. 

As if on cue, the gigantic Vann-Hest lets loose a less than pleased growl, raising his front hooves in a rear. White mane ripples against his neck as he tosses his head and pins his ears at Illius as he nears, hands outstretched in attempts to soothe him. 

A scene suddenly plays before my eyes that makes me start. The Vann-Hest, looking as angry as the Devil himself, lunges forward and sinks sharpened teeth into the arm of my Captain. He effortlessly swings him back and forth like a doll as Illius' scream pierces the air.

 The vision ends as quickly as it had come, leaving my heart pounding violently inside of my chest. 

As if somehow sensing my distress, Illius lowers his hands and steps backward from the animal, suddenly infinitely more cautious about his approach. He doesn't take his watchful eyes from Silas, but I feel his attention on me. In my panic, I must have sent him a message of warning, and it seems as though he has received it well.

Silas rears again, throwing his reins askew as another enraged sound resonates from his flared nostrils. He looks ready to charge his Rider the very moment that his hooves touch the ground again, despite Illius' obvious strain to keep him under control. There is a twinge of unease from my Captain as he realizes that his coaxing has no effect and that he has lost authority over his steed. 

I waste no more time, sensing the impending disaster. It takes me a beat to find the string that leads to Silas' thoughts, but the pure rage is easy to discern from that of Sage and Wilhelmina, who are calm and content. I stare directly into the Vann-Hest's black eyes, focusing my intent only on him. I imagine my hands gripping onto the string of his consciousness like a rope, and grab on to it with the strength of a vice. Pushing past the brightness of his anger, I force a message past it for him to hear, louder than the waves crashing in his ears.

Be still.

The command hits its mark like an expertly released arrow, taking the beast off guard. Silas side steps, the whites of his eyes showing in fear at the foreign voice inside of his head. The raging waters of his emotions smooth over in the next moment in his confusion, and his ivory ears flick forward once more as he stills. He shakes his head in bewilderment but remains in place.