Shortly after noon, it began to rain. A small drizzle at first, but then it began pouring, soaking the little boy through and through. Quickly, Tad built a little tent with what he could. As he crawled in and huddled there amongst the ruins, he began to cry. Freezing and full of loss, the young magi cried with all his heart. The pounding of the rain was the only thing that drowned him out.
Then, it stopped raining.
"You can come out now," someone with a soft, strong voice said.
The voice was comforting. Slowly, the magi crawled out of his tent, hoping to see a human, but instead he saw a magnificent, black stallion. The beauty of it froze the boy, he only saw the horse and nothing else.
"I suppose everyone left you behind," it said.
"You-you can talk?"
"Of course I can, if a magical horse can't talk, then how can he communicate?"
"Do you have a name?" The young boy asked
"Call me Warrior," the horse answered. "What is yours?"
"Tader Bario," answered the boy. "Have you seen the royal knights?"
"No, and good thing. Those wizards would just as turn me into their slave than let me roam free."
"I don't believe that," Tad retorted. "Warhawk would never enslave you. He's as kind and gentle as a mother."
"Is that the name of the young magi? I suppose he's the one that trained you. Quite strong, he is."
"How did you know he trained me," Tad asked, now fearing that Warrior was of the Dark.
"You can hear from all the animals. All they keep saying was that a young boy trained by a young wizard stopped the fire of the Dark. Is that true?"
"I suppose I did," Tad said softly.
"Then you would be even stronger than your trainer."
"My trainer is strong? I knew he was too young to be an expert, but I thought he had the talent."
"Your trainer is strong, Tad, but you will be stronger soon enough, maybe you already are."
