No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
Kahlua the Sunshower was waiting when he returned - though it seemed like few others had been the same way inclined. Bodies were scuttling hither and thither between the trees surrounding, far busier it seemed than he, yet there were none strikingly familiar – no Gaucho, no Ampere...
I’m not sure we needed to come back after all... he mused quietly before his vivid gaze found the Official that had been trailing he and Veci all morning. With a chivalrous smile and a respectful swing of his skull (should she have been watching at all), Hector turned from Kahlua and smiled at the oncoming horse. Ears swivelled forward to receive the news - the second set of clues, and he thanked the other warmly – even though the mare’s bright voice had carried the same well enough.
Alright Veci... he began, reeling in the wicked Boggart who had not quite finished his examination of the black and white Queen. VECI, come please. She is not to be your quarry. The tone of his thoughts allowed no room for cunning misinterpretation, and the spectre-like creature returned his attention resentfully. This time we are searching for something blue and new, and something with a bark worse than its bite. Thoughts? A sneer passed across invisible lips, and the air in front of the large chestnut began to waver and ripple as what appeared to be a dark mist, began to grow.
Steadily the Boggart took shape and his interpretation was stunningly accurate (even if a little unsteady) – all apart from the ridiculous flowers growing in place of his partner’s magnificent ivory horns, and the pink, naked chicken wings tucked against each side.
Hector groaned wearily – his tolerance was growing thin; almost as lean as his love of riddles. Why could this not have been a battle of strength? Long, robust legs turned beneath his mammoth frame, and he walked back towards the forest. You are a thorn in my side, Boggart.
With his eyes peeled for sign of a canine creature, anything blue or something new, the Dragon Warrior found himself striding down a well trodden path between old towers redwoods whose mighty trunks grew nearly as round as he did high. It was an ancient forest he knew – he had visited these parts years before when his mane was still hogged and Mirage still led the Qian, but the foreknowledge did little to quell the overwhelming sense of inferiority. He descended a gentle slope and found the mist which had welcomed his arrival so long ago, still lingered like a smooth briny sea at the bottom. It was still morning, he remembered vaguely, and wondered with ever fading focus just how long these riddles would take – with any luck; the final round would be a show of skill and strength in martial arts.
As visions of himself locked in battle clouded his mind, Hector forgot entirely to mind his step (which by then was well masked beneath the low, rolling fog.
He struck a rock unexpectedly and stumbled forward gracelessly (a perfect example of how he would not represent the Sun in a spar), and crashed hard across his thick knees. "Ve..." he began to scold the mischievous ghost impulsively, but he noticed as the mist whirled away in a wind-spooked frenzy, that his bonded had gathered into a clever canine apparition beyond the bubbling spring, the blasted trip-hazard, and an enamoured grin curled through his expression - You are a genius, brother.
The Official was close behind and he received their answer dutifully.
Feeling a little more confident, and trying hard not to think about his stinging, grazed knees, the copper giant turned to climb the little hill which had brought them into the booby-trap filled pit. It would do him no good at all (nor his reputation) to break a leg or worse in a game that was supposedly tame. In no time at all he and Veci were galloping swiftly back along the path towards the lush cliff-top pasture.
As the trees thinned around them, Hector slowed and cast his bright, orange eyes about in search of their next clue – something blue. This territory was nothing like the desert in any respect. Where he might naturally have searched for an oasis animal or the crystal-blue lake, there was only soft grass, and a sheer plunge beyond into the ocean. Not one to be outdone however, he barrelled forward while his companion dithered, watching ravenously the horses mulling throughout the meadow.
A few shrubs were all that broke the monotonous tide of green, and it was to these that his focus was drawn suddenly. He had never seen anything like it. Enormous wingspan tucked snug against his sweat-sodden flanks and he zoned in like a raptor on its prey. Something new, and blue! he confirmed in thought alone, and with a broadening, victorious grin, the stallion turned to reveal his answer to the Official.
Veci, he called at last, suddenly aware that he had lost track of the mischievous creature during his search. Narrowing glare discovered the Boggart’s rippling form before an unsuspecting (presumably) resident of World’s Edge, and he made no secret of his disapproval. Rotten Boggart, you will have us both thrown from the border. Come now, we are ready for the next clue. And though disgruntled, the spectre dissolved and danced away after his bonded.
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[O] LET THE GAMES BEGIN (edge games #1)
