Chapter 2: Chapter 1: The Rider in Black

I'll return to my charred body lying on the ground in a twinkling, but first I feel the need to expalin my purpose in putting the proverbial blood on the paper.

I sit here at the end with all the facts before me. I write out our history, Joshua– yours and mine.

It is my fondest hope to deliver at least a spattering of insight into how we got here with this whole business with the Dark. A way to grant perspective where only loose assumptions have persisted.

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Joshua Rasgard took cause and effect as more suggestion. He had no reason to beleive he was being followed. Yet as he trudged down the compacted gravel road leading into town, he kept a keen eye over his shoulder. A pursuer seemed more likely to appear if he acted like it was already happening.

Nearing the winter eclipse, the sun fell early and twilight already crested on the horizon. The sherbert-bathed light reflected oddly on the thick mists that covered the surrounding farmlands and moors. If someone were to follow, hypothetically, they'd be a haloed shadow in the mists.

As the wind with its flecks of snow blew hard against his face, Joshua shivered. He dusted the newly fallen powder out of his curly brown hair and continued on the two mile path into town. Mud caked his elbows and knees from the winter planting season, speckling his handmade scarf like seasonal ornamentation.

Of course, anywhere else in the hemisphere right now and growing crops would be impossible, but Taerose was famed for its thermal vents and subsurface heat. That, in turn, allowed for hot, if not soggy, fields during winter. Altough he wasn't in Taerose, the surrounding nations that splintered off from that nation in ancient history generally had the same geothermal activity, if only to a lesser extent. Here in eastern Sela, it was planting time. Misty, foggy, planting time. They couldn't grow much else than ferrow, which was a stringy excuse for rice, but that was better than not using the land at all.

The road was starkly barren, despite the general hubub this time of year. Sundown meant a hop and a skip home for the farmers, not a march back to town. The two weeks Joshua had worked as a seasonal hand, he always had to walk back alone.

A thought occured as he watched the interplay of shadows in the mists, teasing him with company. People could be avoiding him. Joshua and his brother Kael were the new ones in town. Slapped some money down on the counter of the inn two weeks ago and had received odd looks ever since.

It didn't bother him. Joshua had spent his adult life alone (important to note that in his estimation, adulthood started at age 11. In his case, it probably did). One town and then the next, strange faces and darker looks. This wasn't to say that he didn't hit it off with some local once and a while, but it never lasted. Joshua would be gone sooner or later with his brother. So not literaly alone, but very much alone in the non-obligatory sense. Family counted for almost everything, but there was a faint sadness in the obligtory comradery. It was much less a choice than a friend you made on the streets.

Thinking about it made him feel even more alone now. He wanted to be back at home with the rest of their family. Snug by the fire as the snow fell, laughing around the dinner table.

But no, his brother Kael had dragged him up north to work the fields. But even that wasn't quite accurate. His brother dragged Joshua up here for the stories. Before their arrival in Einhurst, there had been odd tales; people had seen things. Odd rumors of a person dressed head to toe in black robes that only came out at night.

The farmer that currently held Joshua's employ first reported a sighting. Crazy on it's own, it was the sort of information that becomes notable when confirmed, and several other members of the community rushed forward with tales to amaze. Where things got strange was how the story evolved. The farmer's second sighting said the Man in Black rode on a coal-colored steed, so he was promoted to the Rider in Black.

This beastly entity stalked the moors and haunted the fog banks. For all the clamor, you would think that a child had actually gone missing, that a man was found dead on the road. But of course not. Not a single person had been put out by the whole ordeal.

With the third sighting came reports of the supernatural. Nothing specific. Just supernatural.

Joshua beleived he'd at least see the entity at a distance if he kept working out this way. Not even catch the entity, just see it. But obviously that hadn't happened. Two weeks and nothing.

Kael had made about as much progress as he had by running around town and doing real investigative footwork. They'd come to an agreement: if nothing turned up by the Harvest Festival, they'd give up. Well, the festival was tomorrow and the boys were still here. At least they stuck around for the party– song, dance, booze, all the good stuff. It was the kind of thing that made traveling for months on end worth it. If he was lucky, Joshua might even discover why it was called a "Harvest Festival".

The wind whipped, bringing a chilling cold across Joshua's face. As it died, the faint rhythmic beat of horse hooves echoed through the groove that the townsfolk called a road.

Joshua turned on the spot and peered into the thick fog. But the sound was gone. It was slight to begin with. Am I just hearing what I wanted? Joshua thought. He pulled his scarf closer to muffle his sudden spasm of breathing and kept on his way. I am. I just really want to go home. So tired.

And for the first time, Joshua considered that what he was doing could be dangerous. Very dangerous. The thought only lasted a second, but what was left behind was disquiet.

So Joshua watched behind. He nervously gauged the crests of dirt on either side of the road. The final twinkling of light would no longer outline their peaks. Unlike southern farmers, the folks up here plotted out thier land in squares with large dirt embankments shielding their property. The road in between became a facsimile of a valley.

And then the echoing clops came again, louder, more distinct. Joshua spun and tried to peer through the haze, but his vision was just a blur of grey in the fading light. But over the low hiss of the wind, he debated if he heard the whinny of a horse. The bleak shapes in the fog and the echoes of the valley tempted him to conjur his own meaning.

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But as he debated what to do, the distinct and unmistakable stamp of a horse's hooves trotted away. Joshua was alone again.

As the darkness began to weigh heavy on the evening, Joshua took larger strides and marched to town. The mist had transformed from pastel orange to just black. He weighed his options and knew exactly what he would do should this "Rider in Black," or what have you, made himself known again.

Joshua was equal parts giddy and terrified. If he could capture the "entity", everything changed. What he was doing here wasn't just important, it was life saving work. Everything he and his brother had dreamed about hinged on this lonely road in the middle of nowher ein partiuclar. If the creature appeared in earnest, it was his one and only chance to find–

It happened again.

Joshua heard the noise: the tell-tale shuffle of a horse's hooves dragging on the gravel. It rang in his ears louder than ever before, closer than ever. The intervals were increasing.

But this time was different. This time, Joshua had already made up his mind.

He allowed a smile to creep across his face as he turned and angled himself to the noise. And then he sprinted after it. He ran fast and hard. If he crashed into the beast and it's rider, so be it. Twenty feet back, the faintest outline of his quarry emerged through the gloom. In another second, Joshua was inches from the snout of the horse.

Joshua didn't know what to expect, but he was surprised as the horse reared back and the rider yelped. Diving out of the way, Joshua watched dumbfounded as the horse galloped towards the town. Pushing himself up and not even bothering to claw off the blood smeared across his hands, Joshua sprinted after them.

His feet beat rhythmic shoe slaps into the road and the tail of his scarf flew behind him. He could never outrun a horse, but he could give the rider one heck of a surprise if he wasn't expecting a pursuit. In Joshua's experience, the objectively faster party never anticipated pursuit just as an obvioiusly stronger foe never suspected attack. Forget success, if there was one reason Joshua had cheated death as many times as he had in his short life, it was by fully embracing this one guiding principle: always do what you weren't expected to do.

Pumping his arms, he willed himself to go faster. Two weeks leading up to this; it could all end now. He could go home.

"Whoah, whoah, easy!" Joshua heard the voice through the fog.

He had him now. Joshua skidded to a stop, just able to see the faint outline of the horse turning and fighting against it's handler. Now was the chance. Joshua could jump on, try to tackle this so-called "Black Rider".

And then the most peculiar thing happened.

The mist parted and the night glowed like the day. A bright white light illuminated the rider and his steed and Joshua was left looking face to face with a boy about the same age as he. A boy dressed not in black robes but a simple black hooded sweatshirt. A boy realizing he had made a horrible mistake.

And then the cacophony of noise and screams and blood hit Joshua like a sucker punch. A raucous screech filled the air and the horse and its rider disappeared from view. In their place, an electric pickup truck stopped, the front of its hood caved in, the windshield smeared with blood, one of it's blinding high beams smashed to bits as that entire corner caved in.

Joshua took a step back and blinked. They had run all the way to the crossroads just before town. To the right, from where the pickup came was the highway.

Joshua placed the horse and his boy by the screams of the horse and steeled himself. He slid down into the embankment where the horse had fallen and he moved to the kid, hoping, praying he was alright. This would never have happened if Joshua didn't give chase, it was all his fault. He had killed someone.

But no. The boy was breathing.

Joshua slid behind him and braced his neck, holding the boy's head to the ground and making sure it couldn't turn. He noted the raspy breathing, coudn't find any signs of blood or twisted bones. The horse flailed on its side like a fish, but that didn't matter right now.

As rock and fine gravel crunched from up the embankment, Joshua make out the driver of the pickup in sillhoutte. In a frenzy Joshua yelled, "What are you waiting for? Call an ambulance!"

 

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