Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

only himself and the animal, losing sight of everything else around. All he could see was the black eye of his mount. All he could hear was the heartbeat of the horse. He attempted to remain as calm as he could, hoping to show the horse that there was nothing to be afraid of. He wanted his mount to know that he was confident they could ride together, if they only worked as one.
    Gradually, the heartbeat of the horse slowed down. Soon, it was beating in tandem with Samuel’s own heart. In that moment, the young man felt it—the symbiosis that Angeline had talked about. He sensed the animal’s fear dissipate, replaced by a feeling of friendship and calmness.
    Similarly, he could feel the energy flowing through both their bodies, like an electric current uniting them. He could almost see it, a stream of pure light pouring into his own heart and then, into the animal’s, a link that could not be broken or severed.
    Without a sound, without a single word, Samuel knew that the horse was also trying to extend his feelings toward the rider, to touch him at his very core. He felt the courage and strength of the beast flowing through his body, assuaging his own riding anxiety. It was as if the mount was letting him know that he was allowed to take charge, that it accepted this boy as its rider and would take care of him, as he would take care of the horse.
    “Let’s do this,” whispered Samuel.
    The horse answered with a whistling sound, a sign of agreement that from now on, they were a team and would work as such.

    By the end of the afternoon, Samuel and his companions were slowly making their way over rough ground. The horses had to maneuver around large rocks and slip between massive trees, whose branches flogged the riders.
    “Where the hell is this abbey, Kaleb?” asked Atwood. “I’ll bet a silver siliqua that you’re lost and have no clue where we are.”
    “I am not,” answered the officer. “This is the road indicated on the map that advisor Morghan gave me.”
    “What road? All I see is a forest fighting to keep us out,” complained Darroch.
    “I suppose you expected to see signs indicating the way to the secret abbey?” asked Kaleb.
    “That would have been useful, yes.”
    Samuel had to agree with the burly warrior: this did not look much like a path to anywhere. If there was a monastery or a village around here, it was very well hidden and pretty much inaccessible. Fortunately, the new bond between him and his mount allowed him to maneuver around the obstacles with ease, even more so than some of the experienced riders with him.
    Needless to say, it did not go unnoticed. “You certainly seem to have acquired an uncanny ability to ride during your sleep, Samuel.” Malloy whispered to the boy, so no one else would hear it.
    Samuel had to come up with a plausible answer, and fast.
    “It’s not that difficult, once you get the hang of it,” he said. “You were right about me picking it up after a full day of riding.”
    Suddenly, Atwood screeched with pain. Immediately, his companions stopped and turned toward the warrior. The man was holding his right leg, and the shaft of an arrow stuck out between the fingers of his leather glove. Already, blood was flowing down the side of his leg. A moment later, another arrow flew right by Malloy, missing his neck by only a few inches. Within seconds, dozens of arrows were whistling around them, most of them hitting the trees, which were preventing the unseen archers from getting a clear line of fire.
    “Get down!” yelled Kaleb.
    Each warrior leaped from his mount and threw himself flat on the ground, trying to find cover behind a boulder, a tree or even a heap of dry leaves. One of the horses was hit by an arrow, and all the mounts darted in different directions, abandoning their riders to their fate.
    Samuel heard several arrows fly just above his head and ducked down even lower than he was, almost burying himself in the muddy ground. He remained as he was for a few moments, hiding his face under his dirty hands.
    Fear swept through the young boy’s body. Fighting against the terror, Samuel forced himself to remain still, to keep his head down, for he knew very well that he could die in a fraction of a second.
    One arrow. That was all that it would take to end his life.
    Samuel wanted to scream as loud as he could, and sob out all the tears in his body. He wished he were a child again, and that his mother would pick him up and carry him away. He