Timestamp: 72nd Day of Summer, 505 AV
Location: Outside Endrykas, Summer Grounds
Vanator knew better, he was thirty, for gods' sake. But reason had left the Denusk heir for the most part over the past few seasons. The loss of Tamar had devastated Van, and in the wake he had spent more time wandering alone, drinking, cavorting, plotting to hunt Zith, anything that would draw his mind from his lost wife.
The Denusks were not to ride alone, per the Ankal's orders. But Vanator's father, at the behest of his mother, had relaxed his demands on Van. Nadra told her husband that their son had to find his own way to recovery. So, in the heat of the late afternoon, Vanator had mounted his Strider, Zura, and headed out for a ride.
Once clear of Endrykas' perimeter, Vanator hunkered down in his yvas over Zura. He quieted himself enough to sense the strands of the Web around them, knowing the Strider was always in tune with the djed network that spanned the Sea of Grass. The Denusk whispered into his bonded mount's flicking ear. "Lets ride, girl."
A subtle squeeze of his knees was all that was required to spur on the lively mare, and she launched into the grasslands in a spray of hoof-torn turf. Man, horse and djed joined in a breakneck streak across the grass. It was the most freeing sensation in the world. The region had endured several days of late Summer rains, this the first day of sun in a while. The earth was soft and cushioning under the Strider's pounding hooves, the grass still spitting off the residue of rain drops yet to evaporate.
The pair crested a small rise and descended the other side, the tent city disappearing over the low ridge. The landscape formed a large shallow bowl, and Vanator urged Zura across the middle towards the rise on the other side. As they reached the center of the bowl, Zura staggered. The ground beneath the Strider foundered, craggy crevices opening in a zig zag around them. The mare danced around the failing earth, rearing up. Vanator slipped from the yvas, rolling backwards over Zura's rump as she jolted forward to find sound footing.
Vanator tumbled off of the horse, but when he reached the ground, it was not there. He descended into darkness before his fall was halted with a solid, breath-stealing thud. The sound of crumbling earth ended with the trickle of dirt around him. Above, Van could still see the sky, but around him was darkness. What he could see in the rays of light reaching down was the remains of an ancient tunnel, one of those reported to run under the Sea.
He could hear Zura neigh, seeing glimpses of her head circling the hole. Thank gods she was safe. For himself, Vanator ached all over, not moving, fearful of finding something broken. His situation was problematic. He could not climb out of the tunnel, even if he proved unharmed. Zura would not leave him, this he knew. But he could not find the web down in the tunnel to try to call for help. So, he lay on the old dirt floor, staring up at the blue sky, and prayed.
Location: Outside Endrykas, Summer Grounds
Vanator knew better, he was thirty, for gods' sake. But reason had left the Denusk heir for the most part over the past few seasons. The loss of Tamar had devastated Van, and in the wake he had spent more time wandering alone, drinking, cavorting, plotting to hunt Zith, anything that would draw his mind from his lost wife.
The Denusks were not to ride alone, per the Ankal's orders. But Vanator's father, at the behest of his mother, had relaxed his demands on Van. Nadra told her husband that their son had to find his own way to recovery. So, in the heat of the late afternoon, Vanator had mounted his Strider, Zura, and headed out for a ride.
Once clear of Endrykas' perimeter, Vanator hunkered down in his yvas over Zura. He quieted himself enough to sense the strands of the Web around them, knowing the Strider was always in tune with the djed network that spanned the Sea of Grass. The Denusk whispered into his bonded mount's flicking ear. "Lets ride, girl."
A subtle squeeze of his knees was all that was required to spur on the lively mare, and she launched into the grasslands in a spray of hoof-torn turf. Man, horse and djed joined in a breakneck streak across the grass. It was the most freeing sensation in the world. The region had endured several days of late Summer rains, this the first day of sun in a while. The earth was soft and cushioning under the Strider's pounding hooves, the grass still spitting off the residue of rain drops yet to evaporate.
The pair crested a small rise and descended the other side, the tent city disappearing over the low ridge. The landscape formed a large shallow bowl, and Vanator urged Zura across the middle towards the rise on the other side. As they reached the center of the bowl, Zura staggered. The ground beneath the Strider foundered, craggy crevices opening in a zig zag around them. The mare danced around the failing earth, rearing up. Vanator slipped from the yvas, rolling backwards over Zura's rump as she jolted forward to find sound footing.
Vanator tumbled off of the horse, but when he reached the ground, it was not there. He descended into darkness before his fall was halted with a solid, breath-stealing thud. The sound of crumbling earth ended with the trickle of dirt around him. Above, Van could still see the sky, but around him was darkness. What he could see in the rays of light reaching down was the remains of an ancient tunnel, one of those reported to run under the Sea.
He could hear Zura neigh, seeing glimpses of her head circling the hole. Thank gods she was safe. For himself, Vanator ached all over, not moving, fearful of finding something broken. His situation was problematic. He could not climb out of the tunnel, even if he proved unharmed. Zura would not leave him, this he knew. But he could not find the web down in the tunnel to try to call for help. So, he lay on the old dirt floor, staring up at the blue sky, and prayed.
