Temperamental

Chapter 20

Roan wondered how he had ended up in such bad state. His hide was scratched and torn from his reckless gallop and he was sure his hooves were going to fall off...

He had thought he was doing well. He had happily auctioned another painting and was enjoying himself as he toured the human town's and villages. Maybe it was the fact he was now part horse, but his curiosity and need for travel often sparked up causing him to be impulsive.

Maybe that was why he hadn't noticed being surrounded by Aurelian soldiers. By the time he noticed he was staring into deep blue eyes of someone he recognized vaguely as an Aurelian General.

"We have been searching hard for you, Lord White." The General's voice and a hint of mocking which made Roan realize he was in deep trouble.

"Ohhh." Roan drawled casually. "And how can I be of help?"

Roan played the role of obliviousness as he gathered his magic in preparation. He cautiously waited for his opponents to make their first move. He would not risk being trapped due to impatience.

His wait was not in vain as the general lunged toward him. Roan released some of the magic he gathered in attempt to create a storm, blocking the men around him. However, the Aurelian General proved versatile in navigating around the magic.

It happened in an instant, and before Roan could escape, he felt a burning sensation wrap around his neck.

What was that? Roan let out a sharp scream as he felt his strength slip away. In a daze he used his remaining magic to shift into his horse form, charging straight towards the Aurelian General. The man was taken by surprise with the shift and could barely dodge the steel like hooves as Roan leapt over his figure and rushed into the distance.

"Don't let it escape!" The General, Adrian, bellowed loudly at the soldiers accompanying him. "Get your arrows ready!"

A few of the soldiers that were armed with crossbows took aim at the retreating figure of the horse. With the loud shout of "Fire" the men released a chaotic rain of bolts.

Roan had let out a loud scream when he felt the bolts embed into his rump and flank. He pushed himself to continue running despite the pain and doin was out of sight of the soldiers. Roan had continued to push himself, running further. He knew those men would have some means to track him. He desperately ran through every stream or River he could find in the hopes that what was tracking him wasn't more powerful then a hunting dog.

When he finally stopped for rest, his sleep was fitful. The burning sensation around his neck lingered and he couldn't use his magic. He felt as though someone had put a blindfold over his eyes or tied a hand behind his back. Being unable to connect with his magic was like losing an important limb.

Roan also tried to consider where he was. He felt as though he had been traveling in a southward direction, but he couldn't be sure as he had been panicking a bit too much. He decided to just escape based on instinct.

Roan ended up on the move for a good two weeks. He alternated between galloping desperately, seeking water sources and blindly trudging forward. By the end of two weeks, the injuries littering his body seemed to be infected. Roan had no magic to solve these injuries and the body of a horse did not make removing crossbow bolts easy.

After two weeks, Roan reaches his limits, collapsing in the middle of a grassy field.

Shortly after Roan lost consciousness, he was approached by a young boy. The boy had been sent out to collect some of the herbs that the villagers knew grew in the plain like area. The boy's eyes flowed as he appreciated the horse's appearance. He saw the horse seemed quite tall compared to their local breeds. He estimated the horse to stand at seventeen hands while the villages local horses averaged at about fourteen hands.

Apart from the horse's majestic size, the boy also admired the roan patterns decorating its hide. He thought the mane, tail and patches shined like gold while the hooves and a ring around its neck were a dark, healthy black. The boy observed for a moment longer before determining that the horse was in a state of exhaustion and it would be fine to leave and return with help.

The boy decided that the horse would be his when he came of age in a few months. It was a small local custom for each boy in the village to train their own horse when they reached adulthood. The boy had always disdained the tradition to an extent because the local horses were all mild and had been raised pulling carts. If you truly want to train a horse, he believed, it should be wild and free.

The boy rushed back to the village, calling for the adults to help him. He then excitedly guided them to where the injured animal lay.

"Can we bring it back! This is the horse I want for my coming of age! We have to bring it back." He implored his father and his uncle.

The village men could only sigh in exasperation at the boy's enthusiasm.

"This one's a wild 'un," the boy's uncle said. "E's not gonna like being held. Is better ta leave 'im." All the men agreed with these words but the boy continued with his begging.

Finally they gave in to the boy's whines on the conditions that he completed extra chores as well as took full responsibility for the horse. The boy happily agreed and hovered around the men as they struggled to move the horse to the village stables.

A.N.

I'll give you all a sneak peak into my sketch book as compensation for taking so long. 😅

P.S.
-This is a writers prompt, for any who feel like writing please leave a comment and let me admire: recently the genre of reincarnating into an otome game and taking the yaoi route has become popular, but what if the situation was reversed.
The mc really hated the fact the the female lead- who had all the guys- still chased after him, having been sucked into the bad ending and dying the mc wakes up in the body of an otome game fanatic and realizes his life was virtual- how will he face reality and how will he avoid the females!!!