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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1935949-Character-Gauntlet---Day-6
Rated: · Other · Other · #1935949
...from a certain point of view
Continues from prompt 2 – first two paragraphs are reference only and not included in word count.

Word Count 580

                   Sul’hupkaar watched in satisfaction as realization creep across the human’s face. Saw the pain and despair sink in. Smiled as Sauric’s face flushed red in anger. King Sauric’s Pride was forever his now, bound through the crossing ceremony he performed the night before. Their blood was mixed. They would feel each other’s thoughts, know each other’s pain. He patted the horse’s shoulder with his gloved hand. “Away King Sauric,” he sang to the horse and they turned slowly toward wide-open gates of the mansion’s grounds. Sul’hupkaar let it trot proudly away. Let Kroywen see their beloved symbol as he left the city.
                   Sauric stood frozen, unable to stop the receding figure. It only took an instant for him to realize that the dark elf was talking to the horse and not him. He began to tremble in anger when he caught the meaning of the elf’s words. His face burned, wherever Sul’hupkaar went, it would be on King Sauric’s back. Sauric would find a way to make him pay for taking one of his children and for this humiliation.
                   

                                  Feydred was still setting up his fruit cart for market. Placing crates of brightly colored vegetables on display around the edges while the more expensive fruit was further in where he could keep an eye on it. The bright sun and cool clear blue skies promised a beautiful day. People bought more on days like these, they were just in a better mood. Feydred went around each corner of the cart, pushing the red and blue canopy up the posts to shade the fruits and vegetables from the sun.
                   He heard a sudden rising commotion from the square just ahead, the milling crowd moving toward it. Not wanting to leave his cart unattended, Feydred climbed up onto the bench seat at its front and saw a horse and rider in the center of the growing crowd.
                   Even from a distance, the rider was an imposing creature. A dark elf  in a black cuirass sat on his black stallion sneering down at the crowd around him. His black cloak and thick long hair ruffled gently in the slight morning breeze. Had his sneer been a smile, Feydred thought he would have looked regal. Feydred’s first thought was the elf sat on Kroywen’s Child, the city’s beloved stallion, until he saw the red glowing eyes and the angrily shaking head and mane. One of the elf’s hands rested calmly on the saddle’s pommel while the other was on his hip as Kroywen’s Child’s evil twin began to prance haughtily in a small circle, the crowd jumping back to avoid being stepped on.
                   Damn arrogant dark elves. Strutting about pridefully showing off a beast that wouldn’t be fit to share a stable with Kroywen’s Child. The dark elf was saying something to the crowd, but he was too far away to hear what. As they finished their prancing circle and headed in his direction, Feydred heard a loud wail rising from the crowd. People began shouting angrily at the menacing figure while others had hands over their mouths in shock, even more seemed to be crying.
                   Feydred watched the rider and horse clomping down the cobblestoned street in his direction now. There was a smug grin on the elf’s face, his eyes danced gleefully at the despair left behind him. What had he said to everyone to cause such a reaction? The horse’s hooves sounded loudly off the stones as it lifted and stomped each step, strutting as pridefully as its master. Feydred could see its roiling red eyes clearly now and the hate burning behind them, the dark elf on its back no different. The horse snorted and Feydred realized there was no bit and bridle. Up close, the horse’s likeness to Kroywen’s Child was eerie.
                   Donned in black with traces of iron and bone imbedded in hi sarmor, the elf was a fearful thing to look at. A sword of black with a bone crossguard made to appear as a flying dragon hung from his side. The thing took no notice at all of Feydred gawking. All he could do was watch as horse and rider bounced down the middle of the road, the crowd parting in a flurry to avoid him.
                   An angry man came to a stop near him, holding a crying woman, his wife Faydred presumed.
                   “What is it?” Feydred asked. “What’s happened?”
                   The man’s eyes blazed with hatred when he looked a Feydred. “That vile thing has stolen our child and turned it into the abomination he now calls King Sauric!”
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