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Chapter 47 - Fledgling

  The sun had just begun to rise, the sky turning that odd shade of purple it prefers before it lets the light take over. Rune tapped Orion awake, and he slowly lifted his head off the grass.

  “Rune?” he mumbled, sweeping the hair from his eyes.

  “Good morning. I thought you should know I was alright,” he whispered. Ariel, Knight, and Marmalade were fast asleep on the grass, and he dared not wake them.

  Orion sat up and shook the dew off himself. The morning was bitterly cold, but Rune had built up a fire nearby. They crept closer and warmed their aching legs.

  “We barely made it out of there,” Orion reflected.

  Rune winced. “Sorry. My fault.”

  “You couldn’t help it. What was the vision about, anyway?” Orion asked.

  Rune racked his brain for the memories. This vision was particularly strong and unforgiving. “There was a black filly. Dark magic. She was being chased, and Laci was there at some point. I can’t fit it all together. It was too fast.”

  “A filly with dark magic? Interesting,” Orion said. “How practiced was she?”

  “Very practiced. She flipped a truck, roughed up some horses,” Rune explained.

  Across from them, Ariel started to unsteadily climb to her feet. Knight had also gotten up, and was standing next to her in his usual quiet melancholy.

  “Whoa, Ariel! Hold on,” Orion said, hurrying over to help her. “You were shot with a tranquilizer. Don’t rush.”

  “I was?” she said absently.

  “Yes. Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested.

  She flopped on the ground immediately, too quickly for Orion to catch her.

  “That’s one way to do that,” he said.

  “Could you let a mare rest?” Marmalade grumbled from her spot in the grass.

  Orion looked Ariel over to make sure she was alright. “Apologies. We’re moving on from here soon anyway.”

  “Already?” Rune said. “How far away are we?”

  “We only made it a few miles from the city. We have to move fast if we want to get there in time,” Orion said.

  They slowly carried on through the black pit of trees, until the sun loomed high overhead. Its heat never reached them, the fierce wind slicing through their cloaks like a dagger. Ariel was still shivering, even though Orion had buried her in a thick fur coat. She longed for home like nothing else.

  …

  “Daphne!”

  The little golden filly heard her name over the plains and galloped back over to the stone doorstep. Eliza waited there, holding a little cloak in her hoof.

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  “You shouldn’t be out here without a cloak. It’s too cold,” she said, trying to wrap it around Daphne.

  Daphne jumped away. “I don’t need a coat. I never wear one until the snow comes out.”

  Eliza sighed. “It’s not a choice. If you don’t wear it, you’re coming back inside.”

  “I’m not going anywhere!” Daphne argued.

  She ran back into the field, with Eliza in hot pursuit. Eliza chased her and swept her up into her arms, and she kicked and struggled the whole way back to the house. She brought her upstairs to the library and set her down.

  “I hate you! I want to go home,” Daphne shouted. She curled up in the corner of the library and burst into tears.

  Eliza sank into an armchair and put her head in her hooves. Caring for Daphne had proven to be a challenge. Once the novelty of a new household had worn off, it seemed her emotions had become unmanageable.

  Doctor Greg poked his head into the library. “Is everything alright?”

  Eliza looked over at Daphne, who was still sobbing uncontrollably. “Not really.”

  “Marshall is feeling better. He can look after her for a while to give you a break,” Greg suggested.

  Daphne paused her crying for a moment at the mention of Marshall. Inexplicably, he was her favorite horse in the house.

  “That would be wonderful. I haven’t gotten any sleep,” Eliza said softly.

  Greg leaned in closer, concerned. “Is she still having nightmares?”

  “Yes. On the hour. She barely sleeps even if I stay up all night sitting on the end of her bed,” Eliza told him.

  “Hmm. Poor filly,” he said. “I’ll have to think of a remedy.”

  Eliza rubbed her aching neck. “I just wish she had someone her own age here. She misses her friends from home.”

  Greg nodded. “Why don’t you go get some rest? You’ll feel better.”

  Eliza went off to her bedroom, and Greg helped Daphne up. “How about you play with Marshall for a little while?”

  Daphne happily skipped along with him to find Marshall. He stood up from the lounge in the parlor and greeted her with a hug. “Daphne! You rascal! What are you doing here?” he joked.

  She laughed and climbed into his lap. “Tell me a story!” she begged.

  “Alright, I suppose. I’ll tell you about the mouse and the lion,” he said.

  …

  “And the lion and the mouse were the closest of friends. The end,” he finished.

  Daphne had fallen asleep on his lap, curled into a ball like a kitten. He sat deep into the couch and tucked her close. She slept restfully for a few minutes, but then began to shift around. Her head suddenly popped up, and she cried loudly.

  “Easy, Daphne. It was just a bad dream,” Marshall said, patting her.

  “I want my mommy,” Daphne sniffled. Her skin felt clammy against Marshall’s, sweat foaming down though it was icy cold.

  “What happened?” Marshall asked.

  “They took her away,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

  Marshall’s ears flickered. “Your mommy?”

  “No. Tabitha,” she told him.

  “Who is Tabitha? Tell me about her,” he asked.

  She settled back into Marshall’s lap. “I met her at school. She’s a big filly. She taught me my magic to fix your leg.”

  “Really? She must be very special,” Marshall said. He looked down at his leg, which still bore its signature glow. His heart wrenched when he remembered Laci again, the memories of the wedding flashing through his mind.

  Daphne rested her head on Marshall’s chest. “They stole her from school. She used her magic by accident. She screamed and cried, she never does that.”

  Marshall tried to hide his shock. “Oh. I’m so sorry. That must have been scary.”

  “I miss her,” Daphne murmured.

  With some gentle pats from Marshall, the weary foal finally relaxed and went back to sleep. He looked at her solemnly.

  “Who are you, little golden filly?” he whispered.

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