Oracus: The Lavorian Rider

Twelve - A Lavorian Without Its Armour

The sun beamed down from above and zapped the little energy Catania still had left in her body. The yellow desert and blue sky met on a hazy horizon, and the warmth of the sand was almost unbearable. Catania's skin was exposed and burnt, she wore only a rag that was thin and frayed, and the wounds on her wrists and ankles were sore and full of sand. Beneath her, Alticon limped feebly over the desert and panted for water.

Catania ran her hands through Alticon's usually silky fur, but it was rough and brittle, with dirt matting it into clumps. She had her head resting on his back, and she could feel the scattered rhythm of his heart beating under his skin. She thought back to when Alticon had been a Lavorian. Then, he would have raced through the desert and made it back to Tallarin before nightfall. But now he was weak and vulnerable, Jowra's experiments many years before having taken their toll on his body. Now he was without armour and pride, and he was a mere shell of the incredible Wolf he had once been.

Catania and Alticon had been free of Melzor for two days. Catania's sadistic father, the notorious King Jowra, had forced her to return to Tallarin under his own supervision. Unfortunately, his leverage had been considerable, and Catania had had no choice but to accept his ingenius plan. Her father was in her head now, and he would control her reign from within her. And if she failed to fulfil his demands, he would force her to kill Alticon herself, or destroy her city from the inside with his powers.

A scolding breeze crossed Catania and Alticon's path and thrust yet more sand into Catania's wounds. She'd have cried out in pain if her throat wasn't so dry, but no more than a croak was heard. For most of their time on the sand, confused thoughts whirred in Catania's mind. She had visions of Tallarin and the mountains surrounding it, and she dreamt of the ocean beyond. She thought of her quarters in the palace, and of the men and women who served her so willingly. And then she wondered if it would be for the best for her to die before ever making it back to Tallarin. It would be a shame not to see her home again, but at least her father would no longer be able to use her.

For hours more, the worries persisted. It was the toughest time of Catania's life. It was even more torturous than being shackled in the dungeon. But eventually, the slow tempo of Alticon's steps became too much and Catania fell into a repose. For a short time, peace came to her, and all her concerns were forgotten.

*

The burning sunlight made way for bitter darkness. The temperature had plummeted, and all that was keeping Catania warm was the heat of Alticon's body underneath her. She shivered from the cold and opened her eyes. Above, thousands of stars twinkled on a cloudless night, and the moon cast light upon the sand, turning it white as chalk.

It was coming to the third day of travelling, and Alticon hadn't stopped for a moment's rest. Neither of them had eaten or drank since before Catania's imprisonment, and every step for Alticon was so strenuous they were barely making any progress at all.

Finally, Catania could stand to see her Wolf suffer no longer. She patted him softly on the back and whispered hoarsely in his ear, "Alticon, stop. You need to rest."

With a defeated sigh, Alticon adhered to her demand and dropped onto his belly. Catania rolled from his back and curled up between his giant paws. In seconds, his eyes had rolled to the back of his head and wheezing snores were coming from his jaws. He was so brave, but exhausted too, and Catania was angry with herself for allowing him to carry her for so long without stopping. A Lavorian lives to protect its Rider, but Alticon was no longer a Lavorian, and therefore unable to act like he once could. He needed food, water and sleep now, and if he didn't get any, he would die.

*

When Catania awoke next, clouds had obscured the moon and the darkness was considerably thicker. She was still partially wrapped in Alticon's white fur, but the flesh that was exposed to the night was terribly cold. For a brief moment, she wished for the midday sun to be blistering her skin again.