Dawnbreaker

“Adrenaline”

Eighteenth of Soulfire, 2583 BC (Before Celestia)

It took a bit of negotiation, but Zarril managed to persuade his father to let him get a short sword from the armory, as well as some loose-fitting leather armor. He allowed the prince to go no farther than two fieldlengths into the forest, and even this negotiation did not come without a price. The prince was to stay on labor watch for twelve hours if he came back unscathed, and if Zarril were to become harmed, the injury and the required recovery time would be his way of holding up his “end” of the deal, if one could call it that.

Sharpened steel sword strapped to his back, his leather armor fastened around his young, taut coat, Zarril was prepared to trek out into the dangers of the wild Terra Valley Forest. The forest itself was approximately eight to ten fields long, spanning the entire width of the valley all the while. It was easy to get lost in, the unforgiving shadows seemingly too dark to navigate in. Too dark to be natural. Not even the brightest of sunlight reached more than five feet into the thick canopies of gnarled, grotesque trees. It looked as beautiful as any forest could from the parapet of Hoofshire Keep, but it was hard to keep the same image of it from up close. All sorts of oddities grew and lived inside the Terra Valley Forest; bio-luminescent fungi, wild manticores, and more. It wasn't a place that the faint of heart visited.

However, Zarril was not one who was faint of heart. He was a brave soul, even though his royal blood may suggest otherwise. The thrill of adventuring had piqued his interest when he was but a small colt, wandering about the palace before it had become a warm and familiar home to him. As he trotted down the pony-made path down the cliffside, he thought to himself about the old days...

****

“Oh, c'mon Zarril! That isn't fair!”

“Is too, Morning Star!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yah huh!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Is too!”

“Nope!”

“Now, now, boys, what's the problem here?” Rendara trotted up, a gentle smile upon his slightly aged face as he approached.

The boys had been playing a harmless game of Guard, where the objective was for one of the boys to play as a royal guard while the other was trying to take his life. “Zarril jumped at me while I wasn't it! It's against the rules!” He hopped in the air for a bit of emphasis on the word “rules”. Zarril simply rolled his eyes at this, because obviously Morning Star's the liar here.

Up stumbled Dawning Light, Morning Star's fraternal twin brother. He had a pale orange coat, compared to Morning Star's deep blue. They had their differences, but they were still brothers through and through. The two of them helped each other out on many occasions. “Am I late, guys..?”

Dawning Light was wearing an oversized leather cap on his head, which accounted for the stumbling about. It was covering his eyes, not to mention how heavy it was. Being reinforced with bona fide Terran Steel makes even the lightest of armor quite heavy for a young colt like Dawning Light. Zarril grinned, and soon laughter ensued as Light actually fell over on his side, his head stuck inside the large cap. A few minutes later, things were sorted out for the most part, the laughs had been shared, and he'd been together with his friends.

For several years, the three colts were best friends. They would do everything together, from playing to eating to fighting. However, the prince's twin friends had to move due to increases in home taxes; another greedy act founded by his father. Despite everything in his power (which, although he was a prince, he was a small colt, so thusly he had very little power either way), he could not get his father to redact the tax increase. Another thing lost due to his father. The prince still remembers watching the two of them waving at him, as they were hauled away in carts waving back at him, tears in all three of the colts' eyes.

****

Shaking off the bittersweet memory, Zarril finished the trek down the steep cliffside after a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, he proceeded on, trotting toward the forest entrance. Around him, the sounds of the valley swirled like music. The shimmering waterfalls, the leaves rustling in the wind, the chirping of birds around him, and the buzzing of insects accompanied him on his short trek to the Forest, where things would turn bleak.

Even as he got near, things became quieter. It's as if the rest of the valley didn't want the forest hearing it, in fear of it devouring the beauty of the valley whole. The eerie quiet made Zarril feel uneasy, yet his journey had yet to begin. His heart raced as he grew near, the visibility just within the entrance being pitch-black. The prince inched his way into the forest, fore and rear legs shaking not from nervousness, but from adrenaline. He was used to this feeling, though in a much simpler, more pure form from when he was a colt, playing Guard with Morning Star and Dawning Light. He'd get this sort of shaking feeling when he was about to pounce at them, prepared to strike quickly and efficiently.

Zarril had received training as a young buck, learning to harness that adrenaline and use it to combat his foes, which were pony-shaped bundles of hay stacked together. He had a sharpened wooden sword for use during practice, and it did indeed see a lot of use. The prince trained with that sword for two years until its honed edge finally gave way, the entire sword snapping in two at the hilt. He was sad over his sword being broken, but it was a sword, of course, and was put to good use. It couldn't have gotten any better treatment.

Doing as he had been taught, Zarril closed his eyes, focusing on the adrenaline kicking in inside him. He pictured it as a sword, one he'd been trained in the use of. Picking up this sword in his teeth, he slowly opened his eyes to find that he'd quickly drawn his sword in less than a second. Still feeling strong in terms of his adrenaline, he closed his eyes again, and looked around, imagining the forest to be clear as day. The prince could see the glowing eyes of a manticore on the prowl nearby. Backing out of this “adrenavision”, he crept along in the near-darkness, stalking the manticore. He planned on bringing its pelt back to be made into a fine piece of reinforced leather armor.

Sliding behind a tree, he sensed the manticore nearby, though it hadn't caught wind of him yet. Slowly rounding the corner, he trotted up behind it until...

The forest went silent for several moments as the manticore yelled out in pain, as if sensing it was being hurt. Before the prince could pull the steel sword from the manticore's back, it reeled around and lunged at him with its massive, flesh-rending claws. Just barely ducking under them, Zarril sprung up, delivering a swift rear-leg buck to the creature's stomach. The manticore was sent flying backwards, yowling in pain. The prince took this opportunity by jumping onto the temporarily incapacitated beast and driving the sword home before it can react. It quickly stopped writhing around, but not without scratching Zarril a few times along the sides first. The steel blade had cut clean through several major arteries. As Zarril withdrew the blade from the deep wound, it allowed the pooled-up blood to flow freely from the gash, spurting in undetermined directions. Shaking off his sword, Zarril replaced the blade in its sheath on his back, pushing the dead manticore over by the entrance to be collected as he left.

“Not too bad for my first time in here”, he said quietly to himself in the dimness and gloom of the Terra Valley Forest. There was still quite a bit he had in mind to do here, but for now he decided to rest up after that intense run-in with a deadly beast.