Chapter 7 - Cursed to Live Part One.

Happy could not stop himself from sinking, His amour combined with the weight of his thestral attacker relentlessly dragged him down into the depths.

‘I can't see!’ He screamed mentally trying to pry the parasite-filled stallion off his torso, meanwhile, the rope attached to the lifeboat wrapped around his ankle, then suddenly pulled tight, jerking Happy, causing him to gasp, Water rushed to fill his throat and lungs.

‘Shit I'm going to drown, Get off me!’ Happy pounded his fist into the thestral body to no avail, He began to choke his hands diverting to claw at his armored neck.

‘Not like this, I don't want to drown like a goddamn rat.’ Happy bemoaned while his body became unresponsive, his thrashing ceased, and then he went still.

Seconds later a distortion bubbled out centered on Happy's corpse, The thestral skin puppet attacking his armor floated away completely limp, and further away numerous fish turned bottom-up, The runic formula showcasing its original purpose blazed, Happy's mind returned to life pierced with pain from every conceivable angle, He panicked, Being dragged back from beyond the brink nearly destroying his mind.

The runes on Happy's skull and neck glowed. White hot, boiling the water that touched its surface and eating further into his skin while creeping closer to the bottom of his neck.

He reflexively opened his mouth to let loose his anguish, but his throat and lungs had already been filled with water.

A shred of sanity returned to his fracturing mind, he gripped the rope around his ankle and pulled, dragging his body to what he prayed was the surface.

The curse had begun to use the surrounding life as fuel preventing Happy's watery death, yet it did nothing to prevent his drowning, His face broke the surface of the water, fluid spilled from his mouth and nostril, His hand fumbled against the raft trying to find hold, Hefting himself over the boats edge he fell stomach first to the floorboards.

Striker’s heart relented its assault allowing some focus to return to his eyes, He could see someone else on the lifeboat. “Happy?” he droned weakly, but in his delirium, he did not see Happy but the visage of his great-grandmother Crimson Rune.

“Is this the depths to which our bloodline has fallen? Dying to a measly surprise, Pathetic.” The specter spat disdainfully, painting her face into a grimace.

“No, it’s… it’s just that my age is catching up to me! Yes, that’s it.” He stammered half trying to reassure himself more so than the allusion.

“Oh really and what have you accomplished? In your charge, the house has nearly fallen from grace, In my time I reigned over half of Vurdusk and now you maintain a fraction, Such dishonor must be hard to suffer, But it seems destiny has given you a chance at redemption in the form of this creature, Use it to restore honor to our bloodline or die trying.” Her ghostly form dissipated, Left in her place lay Happy vomiting blood and water, his body convulsing Striker climbed to his hoofs with the assistance of a bench and then stumbled over to the fallen creature.

“Happy you're alive!” He put his front hoofs on the creature's back and pressed, The leather lining of his scale armor compressing against its back forcing a greater quantity of water from his lungs. “Lamentable creature do not die on me, you can’t! I need you…I command you, To live!” Striker screamed, And in his desperation, magic slipped into his words.

At once Happys body went rigid he shot to his knees skull pointed to the rumbling sky in a tortured howl, golden electricity arched from his gilded skull, A stream of steam spilled from his skinless mouth, and then he fell unceremoniously to his side, His head rested in such a way as to lock into an eyeless stare with Crimson Striker.

Striker could not recollect how long he spent locked into the creature's gaze, and to be honest he didn't wish to, A sparkle in the corner of his eye broke his near hypnosis-like state, He turned. “The mask!” He rushed to the side nearly tripping over himself before reaching over with his uninjured wing to retrieve the prosthetic from the water. He sat down momentarily relieved. “Wouldn't have lasted long without this would you?” He was unsure if he had directed that question at himself or the lame creature.

He slipped the leather strap back over the creature's head and affixed the prosthetic into place, Then returned to his original spot on the lifeboat before succumbing to his exhaustion.

They drifted along the water's surface for days, after a while what Striker had thought to be a corpse sat up, Happy lived. “Welcome back to the world of the living my friend, I had long thought you dead.” Striker greeted Happy through cracked sunbaked lips.

‘Did you even check? And Just where the hell are we?’ He asked while adjusting his body which had become stiff in disuse. He felt a sharp sting in his side, and cringed at the sudden pain ‘Damn must be where the lighting hit me, I'll have to try to get Caster to teach me how to control it… I hope he got out, I wonder if Plumb” His thoughts were interrupted by Striker.

“You know,” He paused to let out a dry cough and a pained grunt “Your timing could not have been better, Look over there I can just about see the shoreline now.” He limply held out his uninjured wing indicating for happy to look behind himself.

‘Yeah that's great and all but I don't think either of us is in any state to be bumbling around,’ Happy turned, His scale armor had formed a small layer of rust after being exposed to the aggressive oxidation effects of the surrounding saltwater making moving in it all the more taxing. ‘I mean I don't know if I can even walk, I can just barely feel my legs’ He looked over at the approaching landmass. ‘I guess that is a relief though,’ He relaxed against the boat's wooden railing ‘Wake me up when we get there.’

Night had fallen over them when the raft was beached, They dismounted the boat and hobbled up the shore into the dense woods, Under Striker's insistence after a short walk they managed to find a poorly kept dirt road.

Happy rested his weight against a nearby tree, His body now lacked the quantity of magic it would need to heal his wounds, He could feel the damp patch forming around a wound that ran across his midsection, and going off the pain he half-jokingly decided he would refrain from removing his armor in the off chance that it was the only thing holding his entrails in.

“Our fortunes are starting to look up my friend, No doubt, Soon a traveler will come riding down this road and bring with them our salvation.” He said brightly.

Happy looked at him then the road then slowly back to him not believing the Stallion could be so optimistic after what they'd been through. He scuffed ‘I'll believe it when I see it.’ His legs began to buckle under his weight, He slid down the tree, armor shredding against the bark as he went.

“I suppose we could encamp here if you're not well enough to continue,” Striker said looking over the ground seeking small dry sticks to start a fire.

‘Yeah I'll be honest with you, I don't think I'm doing great right now,’ Striker kept about his self-appointed task unable to hear Happy's response. ‘I don't… I don't think I’m…’ He accidentally tried to repeat. ‘Why’s my hand…so…wet?’ He thought slightly raising his left arm, a bead of blood ran down his gauntlet-clad hand before falling and soaking into the ground below. ‘Shit must be worse than I thought.’ His hand fell limp against a protruding root, Happy was surprised to learn that the tree possessed inherent magic, although weak it would help restore his body ‘Just have to absorb it’ He thought dragging the magic from the vegetation with slight resistance, as the trees leaf curled and yellowed, movement returned to Happy's hand and his pain lessened. ‘Thank God it's working. Now I just need to rest and let it do its magic.’

Striker returned with a load of sticks, He began assorting them in a pyramid-like stack and then froze, his ears stood alert pivoting to one side of the abandoned trail. “Something is coming down the trail and doing so rather fast.”

‘Who would be running down an overgrown trail in the dark?’

A cloth-covered cart came racing down the trail at its head an elderly thestral galloping as fast as his aged body would allow, he passed the two strangers with a worried glance, Exhaustion evident on his face.

“Hurry, we must give chase. He can provide us with the information we need to return home!” Striker said before galloping off after the cart.

‘Hey!’ Happy tried to call momentarily forgetting he was mute ‘Shouldn't we figure out why he’s running?’ A hollow-sounding howl cascaded over the dense forest and several more followed off in the distance ‘That must be the reason.’ getting to his feet ‘Better catch up.’ He thought, Jogging after, Slowed by a limp in his left leg.

Further up the dirt road, the cart had crashed one of the wooden wheels dislodged by a huge rock, Striker assisted the elderly thestral out from one of the wagon's harnesses when Happy approached Striker called out to him.

“Happy, he says Timberwolves had begun to stalk him and his wife through the forest, keep your wits about you, No doubt they are encircling us this very moment!” He yelled while scanning the treeline.

‘Yeah, I heard them back there, how the hell are we going to deal with that?’ He asked

Just as Happy was within arms reach of the distressed wagon a wooden jaw lurched out from the bushes on the right, Tripping him and dragging him into the nearby overgrowth, another grabbed him by his wrist, and the two wolves thrashed their heads attempting to tear the limbs from Happys body, in his shoulder near the top of his humerus his muscle ripped off his bone, Then with a sudden jerk from the wolf mauling his arm, it pulled the limb from the socket, Only Happy’s armor prevented the limb from being torn off.

‘Son of a Bitch!’ Happy reached up with his free hand and clawed at the wolf's face, his metal-covered fingers found purchase inside the wolf’s glowing green eyes piercing the organ and spilling magic-infused sap, Curiously this did not deter the wolf although it did give Happy some much-needed insight about the wolf's composition.

‘The damn things are made of magic,’ using the hand dug into the eyes of the creature, Happy began siphoning magic, and the wolf released his wrist and tried to withdraw instinctively realizing the danger the creature posed, Magic or allegorically its soul, is what essentially, allowed the timberwolf to possess a physical form such as a wooden wolf and without would cease to be.

Happy curled his fingers further into its eyes, preventing its escape. ‘Not so fast pal!’ once the magic was drained the wolf’s body shuddered and then crumbled leaving a pile of loose sticks, The wolf attacking his leg unarrested by the now-deceased wolf, dragged Happy further into the forest.

He reached for his sword, sliding it from the belt sheath at his waist he bent forward and plunged the blade into the chest of the creature then kicked its wooden jaw from his leg, It stumbled back and then crumbled as well.

‘Hopefully, that's all of them,’ He thought, planting his blade into the ground to leverage himself to his feet, he could barely stand on his right leg, And his left arm hung limp at his side, Now useless. Adrenaline clouded the pain allowing him to limp in a circle, glowing green eyes filled the forest accompanied by growling, barking, and howling.

The wooden wolf pack changed tactics now realizing the danger the creature possessed.

‘Back! Stay back,’ He held his sword out to ward off further attacks. ‘They are circling for a reason, it's a primal tactic I just need to wait for one to rush me while my back is turned’ He waited until he heard the rush of wooden paws, Then sprung around plunging his blade into the side of a lunging timberwolf, Using the momentum to pin it to the ground. Letting go of the sword he grabbed the wolf's head draining its magic, Another rushed forward and lept onto his back its wooden claws ripped scales from his armor, Exposing the leather lining.

‘Get off me!’ He grabbed the sword, pulled it from the wooden corpse, swung, and missed the retreating magical beast ‘I have to get rid of these things fast or they're just going to wear me down, I wanted to heal with it, But I won't get the opportunity at this rate’ Happy lifted his right hand, A whip-like crack followed by a continuous crackling roar carried over the forest as a sustained stream of golden lighting obliterated both tree and wolf alike.

A little ways off Striker leveraged his body against the cart, allowing the other elderly stallion to reattach the discarded wooden wheel. A sound pulled his vision off to the distance into the dense woods, a piercing light came through the shrubbery and undergrowth.

“Looks like he’s keeping them busy. Let's hurry and get this done.”

“Just one second, I'm almost done. I just have to tighten the hub, but I'm curious about something Lord Crimson. What is your companion, I've never seen anything like it?”

“Happy? He’s an uhh, well he’s,” Striker fumbled for an answer, the question catching him off guard, so he decided to be vague. “He is a knight of house Crimson and a warrior like no other.”

“Well, He’ll need to be to deal with the timberwolves in this forest, I would have never even thought to travel this abandoned trail if it not for my wife struck by a sickness, like so many others in our village she has fallen deathly ill, but as I was saying, The timberwolves have torn apart any bastard ignorant enough to attempt the journey.”

“How can that remain so,? Does the noble not provide for you and your kin?” he asked with a grunt while he adjusted the weight against his side.

“The ones in this area have run rampant for years now, Lord Crimson,” He paused to thread in a tensioning bolt “The nobles have all but abandoned us, and in turn guards no longer patrol this route. left alone the wolves have grown to be cunning, cruel, and resourceful, So I hope your companion is up to the task.” He dropped his wagon wrench and sat on his hunches.

The sound of battle drew near.

“Should you not flee, Have you given up on saving your wife?” Striker asked incredulously.

“Running won't save us now.”

Striker waited to respond. He looked towards the forest and then galloped to the sitting stallion.

“Get up, We have to move now!” He slammed his shoulder Into the wagon, and the other stallion jumped to his hooves and galloped after.

Happy struggled with a huge jaw of lumber that smashed his frame against the trees in the dense forest leaving a trail straight back to the road

The wolves combining to form a massive monstrosity was not something Happy would have foreseen and in this tiny oversight, the tide of battle had quickly turned in the timberwolf's favor.

The embattled pair burst from the treeline, The massive wolf lurched its head to the sky momentarily releasing Happy then clamped down on his leg during his descent, Happy twisted his frame extended his right arm, and blasted the beast's side causing a small fire to ignite.

‘Ha! I've got you now motherfu’

The wolf slammed Happy's body against the compressed dirt.

Thud, Thud, Thud, Thud.

It did so until the thrashing creature went still, then dropped the limp body onto the forming puddle of gore and armor fragments.

Looking back Striker saw Happy’s presumed demise, the wolf rolled against the dirt to extinguish the flame and then began its hunt again only this time noticeably exhausted from its fight with Happy.

“How far away is your village?’

“Not far possibly an hour or so at top speed, Do you think we can make it?”
“I don't know but we have to try, Happy bought us some time so let's not waste it.”

They ran as fast as their hooves would carry them thundering down the trail until exiting the forest, spittle flying from their mouths while they panted.

“Where getting close!”

“We should be able to fend it off with greater numbers” Striker suggested.

“I wouldn't get my hopes up.” He replied under his breath.

Abandoned Happy lay motionless, beneath him a system of roots that connected to nearly every organic growth in his vicinity, and like a straw, he used it to drink deep from the forest’s life-preserving magic.

His mangled form twisted back into shape, Standing after what seemed like an eternity he began his footslog, each step dragging more magic from the forest killing off whatever was close and leaving the hardier plant life wilted, thin scar tissue rapidly expanded to close his wounds, the persisting pain causing his contempt to fuel further the already raging flame in the pit of his being, determined to repay the beast tenfold he marched on.

Author's Note

Took me a little longer than I would have liked to get this done and it's short but I feel like it will be easier to finish this bit if I split up the chapter, anyway please let me know what you like, criticism is also welcomed and encouraged.

Thanks for reading.