[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230112/708cdcbd8f2adb4ddee36951523c7257.png[/img][/center] [i]"Pa, w-what is gonna happen to Daisy?" there was a worried warbling in the youths voice, looking for certainty in his paternal figure yet even the gruff man with his steely blue eyes couldn't look into those of his son's as they stood peering into the barn sunlight flooding in through the barn door he held slightly ajar. A young mare, his son's horse was on her side amidst the hay and dirt on the barns floor. Jed's jaw was locked in a frown his silence only further worrying his youngest son whose russet locks though usually hiding the boys bright sea green eyes today they shone like little teary emeralds. "Well, she isn't doing well son." it was worse than that, she couldn’t breath. Daisy had been having respiratory issues, but he didn't know how to tell his son. "Pa is...Is Daisy gonna be okay?" more silence filled the barn, broken by the sound of gnats buzzing and hens quietly clucking, and poor Daisy wheezing. "Clive, I'll look after her. Go inside and see your mom. Now." young as he was naive Clive didn't know what his father was about to do but when the sound of a gunshot came from the red little barn on their ranch he understood and he wept for Daisy was taken out to pasture.[/i] [center]* * *[/center] The darkness that had surrounded Clive moments ago, the sickening snap that filled his ears moments before it all fell away suddenly became replaced by a blinding light that made him squeeze his eyes tight, the sensation of the cold earth beneath him made the farmer shudder. Memories flooded back to him in a jumble - waking up in a stone coffin along with others in this strange world, their journey and his demise…He remembered like it were just minutes ago the hand around his throat, he almost instinctively reached for his own neck. Clive's memories before his demise haunted him like a vivid movie reel, each moment etched in his mind. The whispers he heard, a mysterious presence from the surrounding hills, overshadowed even the voices of the wizards and of Reginald. A strange tug at the back of his mind beckoned him, initially just a faint sensation amidst the confusion of his surroundings. As clarity dawned, he sensed an inexplicable thread connecting him to someone - Zigmund, the man who killed him. The four subordinate wizards were rather busy fearing for their own futures while Clive’s senses recalibrated. Reginald, however, was coldly assessing the adventurer for any abnormalities. The Director was actually ready to kill Clive if he showed any signs of corruption. “Clive Michel?” Less a question. Less a greeting. More a statement to get the man’s attention. “You have been resurrected from death. The purpose is not yet clear, but we intend to push ahead. Rise to your feet, adventurer. You’re coming with us.” Then he turned to his subordinates. “Pack up everything. Each minute that passes will make getting back into the city more difficult.” After that, it was assumed by the Director that Clive Michel would simply follow orders. Little did he know that Texans can be rather unruly stallions. Hopefully for him, Clive would be compliant and he wouldn’t have to find out. However Clive didn't have time to comply with the contingent of wizards nor this short man, order or not he had it on good authority that wherever Zigmund was there would be trouble. “[color=F1B338]Shucks, talk about a rude awakening…Unfortunately mister I ain't coming with you so if ya'll just excuse me-[/color]” in typical Clive fashion the broad shouldered farmer turned slightly nor taking the man's words too seriously while his hair tousled as his attention snapped to something that the wizards couldn't hear. Reginald wheeled around, the farmer was wasting time and worse yet seemed to think he had a choice in the matter of where and when he'd go “It wasn't a question, you will come with us or-” the gnome sputtered, the Texan was rushing towards the whispers and the pull of the thread. The Director raised a hand to cast a paralysis spell, but his instincts stopped him. And curiosity took over him. What was this strange man so drawn too? Did it have something to do with a greater plan that Valhiem’s highest officials had not yet figured out? Clive didn't care about them odd looking men in their robes, they looked like they were about to piss themselves much less intervene. “Clive Michel!” Reginald shouted, suddenly furious at his own hesitation, that had let Clive get out of range of any spells he could use instantly without ‘damaging the goods’ yet again. He’d been indecisive. And he hated indecisiveness. “Guards! After him! And you too,” he ordered the wizards. “Make sure he’s not killed again.” Normally not one to cuss, the farmer now spat a string of good old fashioned Texan cursing as jumped down rocks and cut across the footpath where possible.. Hell or high water he wasn't gonna outrun no dang horses [i]thump-thump, thump-thump[/i] Clive's heart raced, lit out he was and running out of time as the thunderous beating of hooves rumbled behind him. As Clive ran down the lower hill and through the fields, his heart pounding in his chest, the memory of Daisy, his beloved horse, flooded his mind. Maybe he wanted to remember her before he died again, maybe he was grasping for anything to give him hope. Despite that pain of the memories he had hope, and in his usual way he stayed brave in the face of danger. Maybe…In a moment of instinctual desperation, Clive found himself whistling softly, a tune taught to him by his father during their rides together. As the notes floated through the air, a ghostly figure materialized before him - Daisy, radiant and ethereal. Clive only had time to mouth the words ‘Jesus Christ’, sparing not a moment longer as he mounted upon his old faithful friend without another second of hesitation. It was fortunate, summoning the spectral horse caused a ripple amongst Reginald's men and women. Their horses whinnied and reared up in total surprise at this ghostly horse. The bodyguard of The Academy were terrified, having never seen anything like it in their lives. “By the Quinity!” Some fell off their horses. The closest man to apprehending Clive turned his horse away so as to not get too close. A summoned horse!? In that manner!? One could only assume it was more Dark Domain madness, allowed into the world through the gate they’d created by breaking the laws of Mytheria and resurrecting this man. May the Quinity help them all. With a thunderous gallop, Daisy carried Clive away from the chaos behind him, the pounding hooves behind them fading into the distance, holding onto reins of spectral light that he flicked lightly urging on his steed.