Lord of Horses

Lord of Horses

It was on a rainy summers evening, the clouds wept already, soaking the plains, the mountains and trees of the ever beautiful highlands. It's wind blowing a strong yet soothing tone as two stood by the Lord of Horses.
His presence was astonishing. Breathtaking for most, for others a true honour.
"You ride him, Eodan." spoke the woman of the two. Saihna Lionmane, daughter of Seiken Lionmane. The one who has lived and battled alongside the Lord of Horses. The one who acknowledged it's strenght and ferocity with equal respect that was granted him.
"He hasn't been out in too long. A horse as such requires a skilled and strong rider. It needs battle." she would continue. Astonishment washed over the man's face. His Dyrtolo's(Beastmaster) badge glimmering as a hand carefully brushed over the old and scarred horses mane. The immense respect could be felt as both fell silent. One hundred questions racing through the mans mind and yet none were spoken. His eyes glued to the horse. His heart beating strongly in his chest, as if calling out to him. The call of a Horseman. He could feel it. The grief of the horses lost master. The need to be free, loose. The will for battle. This is the last tale of Haidren, the Lord of Horses.

At the base of the Blackrock Mountain, a line of men and women. Clad in armour. Coloured in tabards aplenty, wielding sword, shield, spear, axe and bow they stood. Eodan's expression in focus, one hand gripping the reins to the horse, the other holding his sword idly by his side. He stood at the front of the Arathorians. More silent then usual, visibly more stern, as if Haidren inspired him. With a tap of his hoof and a shake of his mane, he expressed himself enough for his new rider to understand, and with a nod, he raised his sword, his voice speaking out loud, doubtless, as if repeating a command he was just issued. "We march! Double file!" were his words as Haidren instantly moved on. The hooves strongly beating the rocks of the slope they climbed, followed by his kinsmen and their allies. Many horses, proud and magnificent, but none like Haidren. None kept their heads lifted, none had the grace of it's rider, no hoof rang as strongly as the old veterans, no gaze was more intense then the Lord of Horses'.
It was only moments later, that the same voice, Eodan's, screamed out, once more repeating the command given; "Charge!!". With a thunderous battlecry of all kinds, of all homes the rolling thunder of the hooves of the North echoed through the mountain. It's core shaking as it endlessly echoed it's rolling sound, drowning out even most noises of clashing steel and yells. Driven by the forward charge of Haidren, it was as if all horses were to prove themselves. It is as if they all were gaining their own orders. Their speed was faster, their strenght was stronger, a sight few remain living to speak the tale of. Their Forsaken opponents fell, forced to retreat as they could not avoid the powerful charge crushing their lines repeatedly.
Striving in the battle, the proud Lord of Horses and his rider stood up front, splattered with blood and yet unwavering, showing no signs of fatigue, no signs of strain. Only raw pride, ferocity, tenacity.

It was during the final clash, on the burning grounds near the Cauldron of the Searing Gorge that the battle peaked. With another ferocious roar, the Lord of Horses, the Arathorians, the Alliance charged their foe, unbeknownst as to why their horses were tirelessly moving on, never retreating. Only few knew of the honour their horses felt. Fewer would know why. With a clash of metal and steel, blood and sweat, hooves shattering bones that the battle ended in victory. The homelands of the South protected once more by it's strongest warriors. Shouts of celebration were heard. Screams of exhilleration and joy. But one did not scream. Eodan sat kneeled, wounded, his spear in his hand as a hand rested upon the neck of the horse, of the one who led him through this battle. Haidren.
"You share my name.. " he spoke softly to the bloodied horse. No less then four arrows sticking out from it's worn and torn body, yet the veteran warrior, the Lord of Horses did not wheeze in pain. It laid there, under the soothing hand of his young rider.
"You accepted me as your final rider.. You fought like a true warrior. You taught me much in this short time. You are my last mentor. I shall reunite you with your rider. Your true rider and friend. Tell him about me, so that I may hope I did him proud."
As his words died out, the speartip would rest to the horses chest, the warrior's eyes closing. It is upon feeling the large muscles relaxing, the familiar feeling racing back memories of old, that Eodan found the strenght to thrust the spear through the flesh, piercing the veteran horses heart with a heartfelt cry, a yell piercing through the bones and spirits of many of the warriors who fought alongside them, an "Ah-hoom!" filled with sadness and mourn yet roaring out strongly, echoing over the barren gorge. Many would fall silent as to gaze at the scream, few would speak, none would move. Another thunderous "Ah-hoom!" followed, bellowed by the kneeled rider, the hand still on the fallen hero's neck, this time to be answered. Fists raised as his kin responded the cry, paying their respect to the old Lord.

As the troops left the battlefield, Eodan remained, despite the attempts of many others to bring him away and leave the horse, he would not. The earth was too barren to claim it's body. It's bones would dust. Letting his kin return, Eodan stayed behind. Building a fire with the tools he could find, he worked for a whole day as to grant the old warrior a true kings death. Unstrapped of it's armour, it's reins lying by it's side, Eodan set Haidren's body aflame, his voice piercing through as he fought the sadness in a soft chant.

Lord of Horses, Lord of Horses.
Hooves so strong,
mane so wild,
there you belong.

Lord of Horses, my last mentor.
Mind so proud,
will so stalwart,
in halls of kings you'll be allowed.

Lord of Horses, Lord of Horses.
Last charge, hooves athunder,
into the battle so fierce,
Return now to your master,
with his spear, his enemies you'll pierce..