The Golden Bridle (Open novella contest)

Chapter One

Ella's POV

12o'clock, that's the time according to my alarm clock by the bed. There's been a whinnying from downstairs. I've been trying to ignore for the past two days but even though it's not particularly loud, my ears seem to be attuned to it. The weirdest thing is that we live in the middle of town with no horses anywhere close by to make the noise. I want to believe that's it's just something that plays in my head because of how horse mad I am, but I've only ever heard it at night and it's somehow achingly familiar as if it is a reminder of a past life or something of that description. There's no harm in checking, I decide and throwing back the covers and slip downstairs. Something inside me wants to go and tell Louise but, I think of how snappy she can be at this time of night and decide against  it. I'm not scared of being caught as my parents have given us a fairly free range during the holidays particularly, as this is just after our GCSE year.

As I descend the stairs, the whinnying gets steadily louder and yet doesn't stop being any less personal. As I get closer, I realise it's coming from the sitting room and pass through the kitchen and closing the door behind me. Once inside, I know that the sounds place-of-origin is the chest of drawers. I pull it back and to my surprise find that the whinnying is coming from the heavily carved boxed we received at great=gran Laila's funeral. At this, some of my trepidation lifts. At least the box is mine - mine and Louise's, at least. I crouch lifting the box from its drawer, tracing the words engraved with my finger. I know them off-by-heart, as does my entire family. 'United in birth with their other half, the prophesied one shall take up the mantle and defeat those who dishonour our line and that of the Gods. They will be the new rider – even greater than their forbearer'.

The sudden swirl of grief is almost overwhelming as I think of our great=gran Laila; the woman who bequeathed this to us. Slowly, with her spirit somehow giving me strength from beyond the grave, I slip her box open and see the last thing I would ever have expected, though seeing it there I wonder why I didn't think of this from the start.  I know what it is of course - everybody in our family does. I know the stories, I know the prophecy, I know the legacy and then it hit me.

I am holding in my hand the Golden Bridle of Pegasus.