Cyclone, a Wings of Equinox Short Story, Part Eleven: The Darkness Falls

I wished I was dead.

I was on sand, but not the Prairie Tribe beach like before. Wounds covered my body, tinting the sand with pink.

I lifted my head, trying to gather my bearings. it was a beach, bordered by high rock cliffs. Definitely not Equinox.

My head hurt. What did I do?

The previous night flooded my thoughts. The grief and rage filled my heart.

It had been my fault all along. For trusting. For believing.

Whisperspring’s death was on no one’s hooves but my own.

I managed to stand, looking around. Something felt familiar…

I heard nickering up ahead, voices, but not in the clear voice of a pegasus. This was nasally.

Land Horses. I watched as two young fillies, maybe two winters, trotted down to the sandy beach, giggling, then caught sight of me and froze.

“Hello.” I grunted.

Their eyes were wide. Suddenly they turned tail and bolted.

Typically. Land Horses, always afraid of their own shadows.

I galloped after them, finding a gap in the cliffs. I trotted up and found high grass brushing my belly. Land Horses dotted the pasture, grazing. My eyes drew to the stallion in the center, a dark liver chestnut with a gold mane and tail. Land Horses only ever had one adult stallion, and he was in charge of all the mares. I knew Equinox had a Land Horse territory, but it was a barren wasteland, not nearly as lush as this.

An old memory sparked, one of flying over a field like this one, watching the steeds scatter.

How ironic. I was back on Shakirana.

It was a sign. A sign that I should have never left. It would really only ever be my true home.

I looked back at the stallion again. How nice it must be to have such complete control, to not be questioned, to rule over so many.

That gave me an idea.

I lifted my head, ahing my neck to show off my battle-created muscles. I began marching toward the stallion.

Mares and yearlings lifted their heads, seeming confused, but not alarmed. Not surprising. With such a small territory for them to roam, it was doubtful that they kept the same stallions for long.

The chestnut, whom I could now see was much older than I first perceived, raised his head too, his chest puffing out in response to my silent challenge. He was wiry, had probably fought many a stallion in his time, but he wasn’t battle trained. He didn’t have the years of slowly cultivated muscling that allowed for powerful, deadly kicks.

This would be fun.

“You’re trespassing.” The amusing nasally tone of the stallion grunted, striking a hoof against the ground.

I smiled, unfazed. “Do I look like I care?”

He bared his teeth, charging.

Amateur.

I waited until he had gotten about a winglength away, then I reared up, quickly slamming down with both hooves. I hit his skull, dead center.

The blow that ended his life rang across the valley.

I lifted my head, standing over the dead stallion’s body. “I am your new stallion.” I rumbled. “I am Storm.”

Some of the mares dipped their heads. Others eyed their foals, a few just days old, with a mixture of fear and caution.

I recalled another Land Horse practice I had heard of— new lead stallions killing their rival’s foals. It made complete sense. The stronger of the two survived, creating hardier genetics.

I wondered if I should do the same, avoid suspicion. Then again…

If I didn’t kill them, I could win more acceptance. Make the mares indebt to me.

I lowered my head and stepped forward to graze. Murmurs of confusion sprung around me.

One young mare, perhaps four or five winters, finally dared to nudge my shoulder. “S-sir… I mean… S-Storm…” She stammered dreadfully, unable to make eye contact.

“Yes?” I raised my head, surprised at how level I could make my voice when everything inside of me was in a turmoil.

“Well… I was w-wondering… if you’re g-gonna kill the foals, we would p-prefer it if you got it over with quickly.” Tears shone in her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill the foals.” I murmured.

She blinked, startled. “What?”

“I said I’m not going to kill the foals.” I lowered my head to graze. “They will stay here until they are three, just like any other foal.”

She stared at me, amazed, then with a peal of laughter, she turned, running back to the other mares. They stared wide-eyed at her, then at me, as she spread the news. Murmurs of thankfulness whispered through the valley.

I smiled. In one afternoon, I had become a hero.

Night fell, bathing the lush grass in silver moonlight. The mares around me grazed peacefully, the foals sleeping by their sides. I didn’t look at the foals and young ones for long— it made my stomach turn, thinking of Autumnflight and our unborn foal.

I lowered my head to crop grass, shoving aside all of the feelings. No matter. I had a new life now.

“You sadden me, Storm.”

My head shot up, finding myself face to face with El-Roi, turquoise eyes filled with sorrow.

I pinned my eyes. “I sadden you? You’re the reason I lost everything.”

“That is all a lie you made up in your head, Storm, and you know it.” El-Roi whispered.

“No. I’m perfectly aware of the truth. I lost everything because of you. Your people were going to kill me at one time or another. Once a Shakiran, always a Shakiran. There’s no changing that.” I switched my tail. “So go away before I rip your throat out.”

He sighed. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, Storm. What about everything I’ve showed you?”

“For all I know, you’re a pegasus using a shapeshifter spell, and you poisoned me into illusions.” I spat, clacking my teeth.

He stared at me with a gaze that seemed to pierce into my soul. He blinked, sighing heavily. “You have hardened your heart.”

“Something I should have done a long time ago.” I growled. “Now get out.”

He gazed at me for a long time. “You were never alone, Storm.” He said. “And your decisions deeply sadden me. But I can see there is no point in trying to soften your heart.” He turned. “Know this: good always wins over evil in the end.”

“That’s not how I see it.” I grunted.

Sparks of amber lit behind his blue eyes. “That’s how I see it.”

And before I could interpret the mysteriousness in his voice, he was gone, only grass left in his place, not even trampled.

“Good riddance.” I grunted. I looked down at the grass, but my appetite had soured.

I went over to the cliffs, staring down at the fierce water. Had it been only a few days since I was thrown off these very cliffs?

Anger flared in my heart. I had lost so much in so little time. There was no way to get it back. I was a disgrace to all Shakirans.

I looked down at the herd. No matter. I had them, the mares. I was in charge of my own herd. I would win their adoration, make them all indebt to me.

And when the time was right, I would get my revenge on Shakiran and Equinoxian kind.

Yes. I chuckled, staring out into the black water. Yes, revenge would be sweet.

I am Storm, lead stallion of land horses, rebel against pegasi. I lifted my head. I have no friends.

THE END

Author’s Note: As this is the backstory of a future villain, there is a reason that it has no happy ending. However, that does not mean that the author agrees with the message of the book. God knows the beginning and end, and He doesn’t want to harm us, but to give us a hope and a future. Unfortunately, Storm has hardened his heart against that in his grief and hunger for revenge. We know that sometimes bad things happen, but God has a greater, better plan in mind, and sometimes He can use our darkest hours for His greatest light. God is just and good.

Storm may come around in the end. Just know that he isn’t someone to follow an example from. Especially when it comes to his beliefs in God.