HEROES MAY DIE

A thunder of hooves could be heard approaching the sandy beaches of the Endless Blue. Each hoof meets the ground for but a second, tearing away at the coarse footing before it snaps back into the air, gathering beneath the stallion as he launches into another stride. The air is pungent, thick with salt, and he drinks it in eagerly as he makes his way to the shores.

The water explodes as he enters it's shallow depths, rising up and then falling like rain onto his back. It is unlike the Friesian to partake in something such as this, a simple run alone, upon a beach no less. He is not known to be rambunctious, loud, or reckless. But today, with a warm breeze on the wind, he cannot help himself to indulge. It reminded him briefly of the rare, leisurely rides he and Bran would take away from Vallhea, away from the battles and the fighting. The beaches that sat not far from the village had been a popular place for the duo, and it was this sorrowful reminder that Destrier finally slowed his pace, coming to a halt knee-deep in cool waters.

Allowing a breath to escape his nostrils, the stallion arched his neck, casting his gaze to the translucent waters. Bran. The thought of the boy still tore Destrier up into pieces, for it had truly not been long at all since his boy was brutally taken away from him. Sure, the Friesian had been born into a life of war, a soldier from the very beginning. Wild he had been, but with Bran, he had learned to trust, learned that not everyone was as they seemed. They had shared an unbreakable bond, one to be cherished and held closer than any of those pretty women Bran had often spoken to him about...

The white foam of a wave distorted his reflection then, taking his thoughts away with it. The length of his mane was raised from the waters as he lifted his head back up, and looking out across the endless blue that this place was named for, he blew a soft sigh. Still new to this land, Destrier was unsure what it might hold for him, if anything. Fighting was all that he knew, and he doubted that it would end here. Would he become a soldier once again, or would he rise to the ranks of even a general? It was difficult to tell what fate held for him, and he supposed that these never-ending musings had brought him here in the first place. The gentle murmuring of the waves was relaxing, but even as it licked away at the sand, it did little to ebb away at those painful memories plaguing his mind.

BUT LEGENDS ENDURE