Gray : Present Two

When the black smoke reached the white horse, she began to stomp and snort.

Fell reached out with two hands to calm the horse down. He grabbed her head and whispered words into her ears. Soon, the horse stopped stomping, and her breathing got steadier. Yet, her eyes still studied Gray warily.

Smiling, Fell snatched the pipe away from Gray. “She doesn’t like your smell,” he said. Gray looked at the horse flatly, then at the other brown one. He exhaled a ring of black smoke from his mouth.

“We’ll go to the kingdom,” Fell continued as he checked the reins on the brown horse. “There, you can cast your magic and then you can come back here.”

When no answer came back from Gray, Fell glanced at him with gentle eyes. “Right, Gray?”

Gray simply nodded, and reached for the pipe. Ignoring him, Fell stuffed the pipe into his robe. “Once we get to the kingdom, I’ll give it back,” Fell promised. Gray’s fingers faltered in the air for a second before they fell limply back to his side.

After three more tries, Fell managed to get Gray onto the brown horse.

The horse’s eyes were trembling, his nostrils wide; yet he didn’t attempt to throw Gray off of his back.

Smiling, Fell patted the horse’s back and got onto the other one. “Go!” he yelled curtly. The ground rang as the two horses raced forward, leaving the black cliff behind.

As the landscape whistled by him, Gray tightened his fingers around the reins. The winds beat against his face sharply. He raised his eyes to the sky, then the land around him. The whites of his eyes were full of brown and black smudges.

Green grass stretched out to anywhere that he could see. In front of him were the faintest outlines of houses — then behind them all, a tall palace that gave a silver and gold glint in the sunlight. He slid his eyes shut, faint images of a jeweled throne coming back into his head. Yet, before he could reach for it, they faded from him.

In front of him, Fell was rushing his horse forward. His hair came loose and fluttered like a pair of wings in the winds. Dully, Gray stared at it with his eyes that wobbled every time the horse took another gallop.

From a good distance away, another figure of a black horse and a rider approached them. Gray’s horse kept on running until Fell yelled and brought them to a screeching halt. Right before he nearly toppled off of his horse, Gray regained his balance.

The woman on the black horse was breathing unsteadily, her face white. She bent over for a short moment, attempting to regain her composure. Then she raised a pair of piercing eyes and directed a cold glare at Gray. “You don’t have the right to come back,” she snapped. “Especially not with Fell. Have you gone mad?”

“He’s still very sane,” Fell replied for Gray. The woman stared at Fell through her fiery hair in disbelief.

“How dare you speak to me,” she hissed through her teeth. “You killed him.”

She whipped her gaze back to Gray. When she spoke, her voice was now trembling subtly. “You ignored my advice. I warned you that you were being foolish. But you didn’t care. You got killed. I never…”

Her voice finally cracked completely. She released a watery sob, and wiped away her tears before they could fall. Slowly, she managed to take a deep breath, and straightened her back. “I never wanted you to die. You were my friend. But look at yourself now,” she gasped out.

Gray stared at the woman, a forlorn longing settling into him. He knew her bright hair and eyes. He recognized her voice. Yet, as he attempted to venture further into his memories, a wall slammed down in front of him. He blinked and sighed.

“Not,” he said. “Recognize. Only, face.”

He had tried his best to explain his current state of memory; and after a couple seconds, the woman seemed to understand. A look of horror dawned in her eyes, then vanished.

She gritted her teeth so loudly that Gray could hear it, and howled; “Herklr!”

The air in front of the woman simmered with heat. Before either Fell or Gray could react, a roaring tornado of fire twisted itself into existence. With a furious growl, the woman pointed her finger directly at Fell. Her eyes were simmering with unconfined rage.

Instinctively, Gray opened his mouth. “‘May-‘“ he stopped, and coughed out black blood. “‘The, winds-‘“

The fire outraced him.

A heartbeat before it turned Fell into a pile of ashes, he lunged off of the horse’s back and quickly rolled on the ground. Instead of him, the horse was engulfed in flames. The white mare screamed hysterically, then the sound died down.

When the remainder of the fire faded away, Gray could now see the woman’s face. Her eyebrows were drawn tightly together, and she was biting down on her lower lip so hard that it was bleeding. A clear drop of water escaped from her left eye.

“So you really don’t remember,” she murmured to herself. After a moment, she walked her horse forward. As she got closer, Gray became even more certain that they had known each other well.

“Don’t move. Ferlin,” the woman whispered, reaching out and brushing a hand along Gray’s jawline. He felt the blood in his mouth dissolve, and something that felt like warmth slither into his tongue. A soft breeze passed by him.

“You—“ he began to say, then blinked. He tested out the movement of his tongue. “Thank you,” he finally managed to say. The voice sounded foreign.

“It won’t last very long, so you have to visit me after a month.” the woman told him. With moisture brimming in her eyes, she silently backed away.

After blinking a few more times, Gray turned partially to look at Fell, who was now getting up from the ground. His expression was stony. Gray glanced back at the woman. “I’m Gray,” he said.

The woman chuckled faintly. “No. You’re Viska. And I’m Ispen. Remember that.”

Before Gray could respond, Ispen jumped off of her horse, her robe fluttering around her. “Ride one of these two horses,” she snapped coldly. It took a moment for Gray to figure out that she was speaking to Fell.

“I figured as much,” Fell responded, his voice like a cutting wind.

Ignoring him, Ispen walked forward briskly and grabbed hold of Gray’s arm. She closed her eyes in concentration. “Tekinsne,” she said loudly.

Everything dissolved around Gray. The only thing he could feel was Ispen’s hand, tightly holding onto his arm.

He could feel her crying again.

When he blinked once, he was standing in a hall that he faintly recalled. At the end of the hall was a throne, embedded with countless gems. On it, sat a man with gold hair and eyes. He wore a silver crown on his head.

When he caught the sight of Gray, he immediately shot up from the chair. His eyes narrowed coldly, and he took a slow step forward.

Beside Gray, Ispen stumbled, her face pale and clammy. Still, she managed to bow down.

Gray stared at the man in wonder. He felt that he had also known him.

The man took another step from the throne. “You’re supposed to be dead,” he stated flatly.