Chapter 8: The Winged Horse
Tania was fourteen when she could read five of the seven ancient languages. By the time she was seventeen, she could easily read and write in all seven. Menkar kept this quality of hers hidden, forbidding her from talking about it to the others. She didn't know why because if he mentioned her ability to others, she would have been useful to so many senior Shamans in the Monastery. She really itched to show it off to others so that she got some semblance of respect, but Menkar had cast a spell on her from telling it to others without his permission. Instead he instructed his head spy to teach her the art of espionage—something that puzzled her immensely.
According to her Master, "The best way to learn is to be in the field," and so Tania was sent to spy on Prince Rigel. If she succeeded, she would be set free. She had made a wonderful deal.
She winced as an acorn stabbed her feet. She lifted her leg and removed the damp acorn as she scanned the dark forest. Her gaze whipped to the west and she resumed running. Tania leaped over a fallen log. Her foot slipped on the slushy ground, but she caught herself on a trunk. She was losing so much time, and her anxiety swarmed. The forest became thicker, and the overhead canopies were so tightly woven, they stopped the sun from shining through them. The forest spread over the hills; the trees changed from cypress to oak to pine; from narrow to thick; and from tall to tiny. Full of thickets and green mossy boulders.
Wind howled and whispered through the trees, carrying the smell of mist and moss and damp earth. It was as if the forest breathed as though it had a soul.
The warm air stifled her. It was difficult to navigate even though the moon had dipped below the horizon.
All at once, thunder grumbled in the distance. Gray clouds started rolling in the skies above.
Dread rose within her. What would happen, she wondered, if she encountered a beast in the wild? She didn't have so much as a dagger to protect herself with. She stumbled over a boulder as she fled in the growing darkness and balanced herself immediately. Having run for a long time, she was drenched with sweat and was gasping for breath. Noticing a moss-slick trunk a few paces ahead, she rested against it, her heart thumping harder, as the acrid tang of fear billowed in the air. She looked around to see where she was, but all she could see were trees, mountainous boulders and bramble-spotted grasslands into the northern foothills. To the east and north, however, a dense forest covered the land.
Focusing through the darkness, she saw the towering Black Fang Mountains. Their tallest peak was shaped like a black wolf howling at the moon. Tania had studied enough maps to know that she was now in the Eslam Forest, in the northeast of the Draka Kingdom. The Kingdoms of Cetus and Pegasii waited in the distance — but they were miles and miles away.
Tania leaned against a tree as panic skittered down her chest. She was still far away from Cetus. Suddenly, a deep sound rumbled from the forest; her skin dripped with icy fear. The ground shuddered, rattling the boulders, and she froze on the spot. Her knees locked, too scared to move, she knew that if she ran, she would attract the attention of whatever it was that was out there.
A crack of thunder reverberated through the dark forest. A flash of lighting followed. In that flash, a bolt of immaculate white darted through the thicket of trees. At this distance, she could only catch a glimpse of it: Wisps of smoke dashing in and out. Stunned, a ragged breath escaped her lips. Slowly — very slowly — she rose from her place. The white mist meandered through the narrow, uneven path. All she could think of was to follow it, while every instinct inside her roared. 'Run away!'
Intrigued, Tania dashed towards the path. She ran, skipping over sharp stones, twigs, and thorns. She would catch sight of it, every now and then, with the cracks of thunder following her. When she had followed the white splash to a clearing, the sight she saw stole her breath.
The beast was beautiful, a magnificent winged horse. The Spirit of Pegasii. It stopped and turned its head to her. It flapped its snowy wings, as white smoke peeled off its body, making it look ethereal. How could the world have something so beautiful within it? It kicked the ground with its hooves then took off. Tania ran, too, after it.
The clouds burst with another rumble of thunder and it started raining heavily.
She did not know for how long she ran, but the rain made it more difficult to tread the slushy ground. Yet she kept running, following the spirit, unable to take her eyes away, unable to resist the bizarre allure. She was fascinated, drawn and enthralled. She wanted to reach it, touch it, and feel the mystifying pegasus.
Suddenly, the horse leaped and jumped over a boulder. It stopped on the other side, as if it was waiting for her. Encouraged, Tania made the same jump — but a blast of air threw her back. She hit the ground with a groan.
She tried again, hopping over the log — but this time the force struck her back harder.
Her pained voice echoed as she crashed into a thicket. Her head cracked against a boulder; warm liquid trickled down her skin. A metallic taste crept on her tongue, and her consciousness faded. Through the thick haze in front of her eyes, she watched the spirit dash away.
Tania closed her eyes and she welcomed the darkness that engulfed her.
When she opened her eyes next, her head ached. She yelped as she explored the back of her head. Voices from distance pierced the darkness.
A crack of a whip or a cane echoed against something metallic, and her eyes flew open. Tania was in the dungeons of Cetus.
A dark voice sounded.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
MishaK
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