to live and burn is
the most exquisite form of self destruction

Watching his opponent retreat to a safer and more respectful distance, Rade felt no satisfaction in fending the boy off and securing his freedom. There was no real triumph in pitting himself against a less experienced adversary; no boasting rights to be won from a fight that was more squabble than true battle. Though the fledgling bachelor had presented more of a challenge than he could have anticipated, Rade knew that his advancing age was the primary cause. Moving away— his roan figure following the Lagoon’s border where it wound deeper into the forest— the stallion’s joints ached and a web of fire still burned beneath the skin of his right shoulder. But these discomforts were minor compared to what they might be tomorrow, and nothing compared to the persistent darkness that resettled over his thoughts.

The boy’s words had implied that this was his first taste of real combat. Why had the other bachelors not helped him to build his skills sooner? Had the Lagoon truly strayed so far from its purpose? Snorting and tossing his head as if to flick away the irksome pest of these questions, Rade focused instead on the equally-irritating sound of his companion’s voice— and was pleasantly surprised by its abrupt seriousness. “Well, kid, someone’s gotta teach you— and it’s clear that no one around here is fit for the job.“ He snorted, his golden eyes narrowing in unspoken anger at Cullen and Tyr and whoever the hell else had let things go to rot here. “I was young once, too— and where do you think I learned? Certainly not by pitting myself against an older stallion covered in scars. That would’ve scared the shit out of me, to be honest.”

Again his gruff language and fleeting glance offered grudging admiration to the boy who’d faced him. “You got more balls than Cullen— he’s the one who should have faced me,” the roan continued, a molten heat blazing briefly behind his amber eyes. “But it’s not enough to be brave, or even strong. The real thing that wins a fight is that thing between your ears— and no, I don’t mean your mouth.” A grim bark of laughter followed this comment; Rade would die before he confessed that he was taking a liking to the bright kid. Mostly because the clever and cocky way that he spoke was familiar enough to send a dagger of longing through his chest for days that were too long gone.

Over the course of the past couple minutes, they’d moved from the glade in which they’d fought to duck now between tendrils of bramble— halting finally at the thicket’s center. Rade was silent for a moment, the familiarity of this place so strong that he could almost feel Conquistador’s teeth plucking a burr from his throat. But his brother— like Styrke, like Cherish— was nothing more than memories now. “I’ll let you in on a secret, kid.” He offered, eager to dispel the weight of the past with thoughts of the future. “Now that I have my freedom, I could care less about it. I won’t be leaving the Lagoon anytime soon— as I said, someone’s got to get this place in order. Maybe you could even help me with that. Train the other boys to fight, take them to see what it’s like to steal from a herd.”

The rough cadence of his voice was quiet again, waiting to hear what the champagne youth might say. It was a lot to ask of someone who’d scarcely entered adulthood, but beyond Fiero there was no one whom Rade was certain he could trust. And anyway, some boys would always feel more comfortable amongst their peers. But after he’d received his response, the palomino roan pressed on determinedly, finally reaching the point that truly mattered— and the one that was likeliest to test whatever bond might form between him and this new bachelor. “Cullen will have to go, of course. He’s made a right old mess of things from what I’ve heard. Driving away some of your brothers, abandoning others to captivity in the Peak. Threatening anyone who dared to challenge his power. If he stays, he’ll destroy this place— and take all of us down with him.”

This time, Rade's silence was complete. Watching the other's expression intently, he waited patiently as the boy considered his words— knowing that his own fate may well be determined by the path that Chronos chose.

stallion . twenty-three . palomino roan . mustang mix . 15.1hh
debonaire x neassa