Яikyn

A small blade of guilt cuts my heart as my horn does the same to his deep blue pelt; despite having sparred with other friends in the past, they had not been the friends that had been given access to my most intimate hopes for what I might become. They were not Erebos, my first friend, my only true comrade. It is probably less than would strike me should I strike Aithniel (a girl, my sister, flame and ash, not Erebos, the General Lord’s son, made from steel and shadow), but it still makes me gasp in apology as he pulls away. Our dance rattles staccato deeper into the heart of the caverns; the dark edges that are not illuminated by the ruddy glow of the fire falls edge closer.

I hadn’t meant to, I wanted to say, I had only meant to bruise you…

His backwards punching hooves steal the words. It’s not a bad hit, my left shoulder feeling a dual crescent bruise rising beneath the coffee of my pelt as they land, but I can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s holding back more than he would against someone else. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind that Erebos would timidly approach this spar, afraid to shatter a relationship that nothing could destroy. It hadn’t crossed my mind that, maybe, I hadn’t done enough to ensure him that, come Moon’s curses or Time’s flux, we would always be the sort of friends that others were envious of.

I pull away from the impact of his hooves, counter clockwise, my thoughts now lured by the tempting thought that I had found a weakness in my brother… and if that weakness might just be me.

It makes the sudden twist and jolt of the world beneath and around us that much more poignant, Orsino’s magic grabbing hold; feeling my stomach clench, the buck I’d attempted to lock and load is stilled in the sudden tumult (an odd ripple of convulsions puckering my skin). Instead of kicking out, I linger in place for a brief moment, some measure of confusion writ across my face. That confusion quickly blooms into outrage, my eyes narrowing in condemnation of nature and its nefarious ways.

Of course! Of course we’d have an earthquake now, while I’m fighting Erebos!

The pinpricks of his bites are even more aggravating, my ears pinning down to my head as I pull myself together with a simple thought: if we’re going to die falling into the Heart of the World, so fucking be it. Sounds like the best way for two legends like us to die, anyway. So, I try my best to compensate for the violent pitch of the world around me, a bark of laughter almost defying the illusion the little fox casts on me with the sound. Even when the earth cracks wide and yawns, its dark heart beckoning, I chose to ignore the sensible fear beating at the back of my head.

"The world trembles in awe of us!" I jest, laughing as I always seem to want to be around Erebos.

My shoulder cries out as I tilt my weight forward again for a buck, a pain that seems smaller than it might once have, my muscles having met worse wounds in their short life. Still, it’s not pleasant, and my laughter is stolen by the gritting of my teeth, my hind hooves hopeful in their swift dart to the right, an almost sidelong and swift gesture. It’s kind of hard to keep track of where he is in the shaking state of the world, and I don’t take time to look for him as I jump forward a step, angling the leap clockwise. I kick out again, the shoulder’s complaints slightly louder this time, curious as to whether or not my hooves will meet air or Erebos’ sinewy side. The buck is more meant to keep him away while I plot my next steps, but someone like me can’t help but hope for luck, even against someone who’s supposed to be his best friend.

As soon as I’m able, my legs try to pull me back around to face him, my golden rapier to his ice tempered steel blade, an eager light burning in my gaze that we might be like the ghosts of the past, the ancients whose words were etched in the walls of stone around us. I want to fill this cavern with the sound of our parries and blows, the deft dance of the unicorn. I hope he sees that light in my eyes, and rushes to meet me with his blue steel.

What finer two were there in all the world, after all?

2/3 | 785 words

in every heart a hole