He hadn’t expected to be late. Horses—horses were what the Earthborn called them, yes? Horses were supposed to be swift creatures. He recalled stories of many Earthborn warriors riding into battle on gallant steeds—war horses just as worthy as the legends and tales described. For the past hour, Balthair had established that the dusty, black, equine he rode was not a [i]war horse[/i]. What he rode was nothing like the stories! The creature swayed as it walked, head bobbing as though its neck were broken or too weak to hold it still. It smelled and its tail swatted flies that partied about its ass. It had been the most uncomfortable creature he had ever experienced. The saddle ground into his loins, causing him to hunch over in discomfort and grip the saddlehorn with two hands as though he would fall off any moment. He had borrowed the creature from a stable in a small village called “Bramble Ridge.” The villagers had been evacuating, heading to the Castle Estrel, and for being a lowly and filthy Earthborn man, the stablemaster had been kind enough to give him a horse. The man hadn’t asked the winged warrior why he didn’t fly to where he needed to go, but the awkward and ugly stare he had given him had said it all. There were houses emptied of most of the people’s belongings. There hadn’t even been a bread crumb left behind in some of them. The Arial had been lucky to find a dust-covered black blanket on the floor of one of the houses. Whirling the blanket over his shoulders, Balthair fashioned it into a makeshift cloak whose pointy ends he had tucked within the collar of his armor. His white glow was draped in black, and as simple as that, he had become an Earthborn. Beneath his hood, within the shadows of his cowl, Balthair’s teeth were grit from the aches in his hips, thighs, and back. Sitting upward, he tried to go back to the position he had been in some time ago, swinging one leg over the saddle to join the other. He sat sideways in the seat like a dignified lady, his shoulders swaying side to side as the horse walked along. His lips sealed into a long frown, he closed his eyes, and his silver brows crashed together as he tried to salvage what remaining patience he had for the animal. “I should have known,” the White Knight muttered to himself. “If it’s Earthborn, then it’s absolutely useless. The amount of shit you’ve dumped along this path is more legendary than what the tales read.” Balthair fell silent as he took in his surroundings. The land was dreadful. Was there really any part worth saving? Had all the Earthborn already gone to the castle? No; he apparently still had that one mission to help the magical one. The Arial arched his upper lip and uttered a, [i]Psh![/i] “I had to volunteer for this cuckoo nest.” A breeze passed by, rippling his cloak and wafting beneath his nose the rank of death. Eggs and spoiled meat—even Arials were familiar with such a putrid smell. His nose wrinkled as he gazed in the direction of the wind, his dark pupils reflecting the outskirts of the ruin. If it had been more than a ruin once, Balthair hadn’t been familiar with the place. It was a mile down the road (1.6 km). Dark figures were shambling about the ruin in a manner that was unnatural: undead. “Hardly the party…” Balthair grumbled. He felt gypped. This couldn’t have been the place. The ruin was a congregation for Dark Ones and their undead thralls. He saw figments of lights that resembled fire streaking through the air. Blinking his eyes to adjust his focus, Balthair mused what could the Dark Ones be attacking? Were there survivors in such a ramshackle place? Really? “Lucky, Sods…Can we get there today?” Balthair asked his horse. He grasped the reins and gave them two strong tugs. “Filthy Beast, run! Do something but walk and shit!” The horse rumbled and stopped. The sudden halt made Balthair’s eyes widen curiously. Had the animal finally understood him? The horse stepped about nervously, its nostrils flared with a fearful breath and the whites of the creature’s eyes became visible. It was clearly agitated. There was an explosion of fire, rising in a fifteen-foot pillar above the ruin. The abrupt blast made the horse rear with a startled whinny. Balthair gasped and immediately threw himself across its back, curling his fingers into the beast’s thick mane. The horse continued to scream, staggering backwards and twisting left and right as though it were trying to shake the Arial off. “St-stop!” the White Knight panicked before his dove-white wings slightly extended from beneath his cloak, and in one flap, he leaped into the air and safely dropped to one knee on the ground. Once the creature was free of its rider, it bolted away faster than what Balthair would have ever given the creature credit for. The Arial stood, his mouth hanging agape in shock for a brief moment before his angelic features contorted with anger. “You…cowardly…sarding…shit-covered…” he didn’t get to finish his train of curses as a giant emerged from the black, dissipating smoke. A glower was still wrinkled on the White Knight’s face as he took in the sight of the giant…“It’s a sarding cow…a demon cow…a demon man cow…a demon Earthborn man cow…” The sight would have given most creatures nightmares but Balthair was too fascinated and confused to feel fear. He had never seen anything like it, and how spontaneous it had been summoned made him snicker. The furious wrinkles on his face smoothed as his features illuminated with laughter. The Arial tipped his head back, laughing into the sky. His shoulders shook from the magnitude of his amusement. His teeth came together in a large grin as he wiped away a tear with the tip of his finger. “Ugh, I’ve seen everything now. I think I might actually like it down here. It’s hardly a bore.” Balthair crossed his arms and grasped the hilts of his two short swords. With one smooth draw, the blades hissed free of their sheaths, glinting with their own electrical light as threads of electricity danced down the length of their edges. His arms uncrossed as he twirled the blades, rotating his wrists briefly to warm them up. An excited smirk cocked irresistibly on his face. He no longer regretted volunteering for the mission. It wasn’t every day that he got to see some action. He couldn’t imagine why the Dark Ones would summon a demonic cow against survivors. As ridiculous as it seemed, had it really been necessary? Had the survivors been giving them that much trouble? [center][img]http://i.imgur.com/vLHqCkf.jpg[/img][/center] [center][hider=Battle Music][youtube]https://youtu.be/YwIVs_F2kMo[/youtube][/hider][/center] The White Knight ceased twirling his swords and swung his left foot forward, leaning all his weight upon it. His leg bent slightly at the knee, his shoulders rocking forward into a sprinter’s stance. His wings billowed beneath his cloak, cupping the air like hands before he propelled himself forward on a strong flap. Balthair raised his right sword, Squall, horizontally before him. Cloud was at his waist just above his hip with its tip pointed in the direction of his travel. His cloak flagged wildly in the breeze of his charge, his wings carrying him like a sparrow across the earth, his armored feet inches off the ground. In battle, the White Knight’s face became near devoid of emotion. He was focused; conditioned. He transformed into a warrior. At 200 meters, the Arial abruptly changed his direction. His wings slapped a gust at the ground, launching the cloaked warrior skyward. The White Knight piked and straight-somersaulted into the air, arching over the heads of the remaining mages, cultists, and summoner. Balthair’s armored feet connected with the back of the Minotaur, his wings spreading to grant himself a momentary pause as he brought his short swords clashing together with a thunderous [i]thoom![/i] The cone of sound blasted in the direction of the Dark Ones with the intent to have their eardrums ringing so hard to send their minds into disorientation. As for the Minotaur, Balthair hoped the creature might have felt something perched on its back and would become distracted with wanting to remove it.