Contest Entries

If We Should Fall | Round 5 • Write to Rank 2

"Get your horse ready," were the first words her brother said when he returned from the battle.

Rivka frowned at him. "You're back earlier than expected. Were they victorious?"

"No." Brenneck's voice was tight. "I deserted."

Fear mixed with disbelief sliced through her, and she gripped the fabric of her tunic with a white-knuckled first. "How much time do we have?"

Her brother grimaced. "Not long."

The realization spurring her to action, Rivka grabbed the satchel containing her supplies for the very occurrence of something going wrong and slung it over her shoulder, heading out the door.

The horses were antsy when she arrived at the stables, as if they sensed something was wrong. They must have heard the thunder of thousands of riders fleeing, causing the earth to tremble beneath the multitude of blood-encrusted hooves. Rivka finished saddling her stallion and threw herself onto his back. Brenneck waited outside, his own mount covered in foamy sweat. She could see the whites of his horse's eyes.

"Ready?" Her brother asked, urgent.

Rivka gripped the reins and made sure her pack was secure, along with her weapon. Though, if her predictions were true, not even a sword could stop what would pursue them.

They pointed their horses to the mountains and the West, chasing the setting sun. Rivka breathed in the thick, smoke-filled air and scanned the horizon for the path tucked in the rolling hills. Time passed and she found herself sinking into the saddle, lulled by the easy rhythm of the stallion's breathy huffs and rocking gait. Her eyes slid shut.

"Rivka, we have to stay awake." She jerked upright and lurched to the side, a hand wrapping around her arm and keeping her seated. Brenneck had pulled his horse right beside hers, matching her pace. "If I can ride after heading into battle," he called over the noise, "so can you."

She blinked away her sleepy stupor and bit back a snarky comment. Her brother wouldn't appreciate her pointing out that he had deserted the battle when things didn't go as planned.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Shadow behind them. It was a thick, ominous mist, an endless black fog, sweeping over the land and enveloping every little thing in death's embrace. Her stomach churned just thinking about it.

This was because Brenneck had deserted. The Shadow took those who dared to betray it.

No, she told herself. This was not her brother's fault any more than it was her own. They'd chosen this. She just wished they'd never agreed to serve it in the first place.

There'd been stories, about what the Shadow did to those who left. Rivka jabbed her heels into the stallion's sides, her breath quickening with panic. The horse leaped forward, nearly unseating her. She tried not to think about those stories as they rode, her body now jolted with every hitching stride.

"Brenneck," she yelled, looking over at her brother and seeing him leaning low over his stallion's neck. "We can't outrun it."

Desperation gleamed in his eyes. "What else would you have me do?"

And then his horse stumbled, careening into her own. She grabbed at the reins, holding back a startled shriek. Her hands slipped. She felt herself falling as the stallion slipped to the side. She hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of her lungs. When she reoriented herself, Brenneck had halted his horse and somehow regained his footing. He spun back for her, leaving her own mount to flee to the supposed safety of the mountains. It was an illusion, she knew. They couldn't outrun the Shadow.