The sounds of horses echoed throughout the stable, each hoof striking the ground like drums in an enchanted arena. Some horses gleamed in shades of brown, while others shimmered with interwoven colors. The students were here for their riding lesson, learning both how to care for the horses and how to ride them. They approached each horse carefully, choosing one they found suitable and beautiful. Suddenly, a wild steed lifted its head and slammed its hooves on the ground, causing one student to stumble back, startled.
Calmly, Sir Aldric stroked his obedient horse and said,
"Trust is mutual between rider and steed. Without it, neither of you can control the other."
"But I've given it my trust…" the student replied.
The master smiled as he mounted his horse. "You must be patient." The steed began to move with dressage-like steps, each motion graceful and measured, as if in silent harmony with Sir Aldric—a sight that drew the awe of Sikakama and the students alike.
Sikakama heard the neighing of an angry horse and moved toward the sound. Around the short wooden circular fence, a group of men cheered, while inside the fence, a man struggled to tame a black horse with a long flowing mane, which reared its hind hooves in fury, sparks flickering from the ground.
The man who had mounted it fell off and fled, shouting, "What a wild horse!"
Sikakama placed her hand on the fence and leaped inside. The laughter faded, replaced by astonished stares. The horse snorted at her, tiny sparks rising from the ground with every stomp of its hooves.
One observer shouted, "Be careful, little one! That horse is untamed!"
Another added, "You'll be nothing but dust!"
Laughter rang out mockingly, yet Sikakama did not hesitate.
Within seconds, the horse thrashed wildly, leaping left and right, but Sikakama held on tightly, striving to control its movements. Sparks flickered lightly from the ground with every stomp, and the horse reared on its hind legs, front hooves raised high. Everyone closed their eyes—one wrong move could throw her off.
And then, with a dramatic flip, Sikakama tumbled to the ground. The crowd burst into laughter at the spectacle, some shaking their heads, others chuckling at her antics, before they slowly dispersed.
Sikakama shook off the dust, a determined smile spreading across her face. "Well," she muttered, brushing herself off, "I'm not giving up yet." With renewed resolve, she decided she would try again—and tame this wild horse no matter what.
The horse lowered its head toward a few scattered apples, crunching them one by one. Seizing the moment, Sikakama leapt from a branch above and landed squarely on its back.
The horse froze—then let out a dramatic NEEEIGH! as if personally offended. With a violent shake, it bolted off, zigzagging left and right like a drunken dancer. Poor Sikakama dangled half-upside-down, her foot hopelessly stuck in the stirrup, flapping around like laundry in the wind as dust swirled everywhere.
At last, the horse skidded to a stop—right in front of Sir Aldric.
"That is enough," sikakama stand up
But just as she opened her mouth to speak, WHACK!—the horse's tail smacked her straight back to the ground.
Sir Aldric, perfectly calm, produced a sugar cube as though unveiling a royal treasure. The beast, instantly transformed, became gentle as a lamb, nuzzling into his hand and crunching happily while the master stroked its muzzle.
Watching closely, Sikakama decided to try a different approach. She offered the horse sugar cubes, one by one, until its restless snorting softened. While it chewed contentedly, she carefully placed the saddle on its back, hoping his fondness for the treats would distract him.
But the moment the straps tightened, the horse bucked violently. With a sharp cry, Sikakama was thrown clear into the air, landing hard a few feet away as the horse kicked up dust and whinnied in defiance.
"Why not just give up? You can choose another horse," called Edward from atop his horse, while she stood up, brushing the dust off her clothes.
"He just needs a little time to get used to me."
"This new generation is very determined," Edward added, guiding his horse away.
"We're almost the same age, you know."
She was gazing out the window, resting one hand on her cheek, lost in daydreams as the clouds in the sky held her attention far from the lecture.
"Miss Sikakama," the teacher approached gently.
"My lectures may seem unimportant to you, but knowledge is valuable for everyone…"
Before he could finish, the sound of bells startled her. She sprang from her chair, running through the hallways, leaping over stairs, and heading straight for the stables where her horse awaited.
Sikakama leaned on the paddock fence, watching intently. Inside, a man struggled to mount the horse, failing miserably.
An elderly man standing beside her asked, "What do you think? Isn't he wild and strong?"
"Yes," Sikakama replied, her eyes gleaming.
He added, "This is Thunder. No one has ridden him since his master passed. He is loyal and brave. What a loss it would be if we were to lose a horse like him."
In a flash of anger, the man raised his stick in an attempt to strike.
"I'll teach you to obey me!" he shouted.
But a hand shot out from behind him—Sikakama's hand—gripping his wrist firmly. With a sharp glare from Sikakama, the man quickly backed off and left.
Sikakama approached slowly, extending her hand toward the horse's nose. Thunder stomped the ground with his hooves and snorted, his eyes glowing with an almost magical intensity.
"Don't be scared, buddy… I won't try anything anymore," she whispered softly. "I'm sorry I forced you at the beginning. I didn't know about your master—I understand you."
The horse sniffed her hand curiously.
"I don't have any sugar cubes right now," she murmured with a faint smile.
Yet Thunder stayed calm, letting her gently stroke his muzzle, a hint of trust softening his fierce demeanor.
Amid the men's cheers, students ran to the windows to watch, their faces filled with excitement and amazement. Lady Grace leaned forward over the glass, peering curiously at the large arena.
Sikakama rode Thunder freely toward the exit, amid the crowd's cheers. Some waved their hats enthusiastically, thrilled by her mastery of the horse.
The old stableman remained the only one inside the circular fence, chuckling quietly to himself with a smile.
The vast green plains stretched endlessly, and the horse galloped freely through them, its black mane flying in the wind. Sikakama looked up to see a crow spreading its wings above her, the breeze brushing her cheeks, and she smiled.
In the dim stables, laughter rang out. The bully and his two companions whispered like jackals.
"Did you see her eyes? Blue as any noble's."
"She must be some bastard child of a corrupt lord."
"Or perhaps her mother was a whore."
Their laughter curdled the air, echoing through the dim stables. The smell of hay and horse musk hung heavy, but it did nothing to soften the venom in their voices. They did not know she was there—Sikakama stood at the doorway, a bucket of water in her hand. Her face betrayed nothing. Not sorrow. Not rage. Only a stillness so cold it froze the breath of anyone who might have seen it.
Farther inside the stable, someone else lingered in the shadows, listening quietly. They, too, had heard every word, though they remained unseen.
The lecture finally ended, and the students spilled out into the yard, expecting nothing unusual.
Then—drip.
A single drop of blood struck the earth. Another followed. Then another.
The students raised their eyes to the old tree that loomed in the yard. Gasps tore through the crowd.
Three bodies hung tangled in the branches—bruised, bloodied, and dangling helplessly like captured prey. Though their eyes fluttered weakly and breaths came in shallow gasps, the scene was enough to freeze the onlookers in shock.
A lone black crow cawed loudly from the topmost branch, its harsh cries echoing through the yard, adding an eerie accompaniment to the grim tableau.
Whispers rippled through the gathering, hushed and terrified:
"Who did this?"
"They… they're still alive, aren't they?"
Standing behind the crowd, Edward's gaze flicked to his left, where Sikakama stood, stunned. Sweat dripped down his face, cooling in the tense air. A chill ran down his spine. There was something about the way she stood—calm, unshaken, almost otherworldly—that made the chaos around them feel even more unnatural.
From above, the black crow descended silently, perching on her shoulder as if drawn to her presence, its dark feathers ruffling in the breeze.
The identity of the perpetrator remained a mystery, despite the school's efforts to uncover them. After the questioning ended, Sikakama sat on the grass, Edward beside her. She asked, "Why didn't you tell them you suspected anyone?"
Edward picked up a small stone and tossed it into the river, watching it skip across the surface. He shook his head, a small, resolute smile on his face. "I'm not a tattletale. And whoever did this… they deserved it."
"You said your name is Edward, right?"
She stood and extended her hand toward him. "What do you think… shall we become friends?"
Edward looked at her, then stood as well and took her hand. "Of course."
Their hands met in a firm shake, a quiet pact forming between them. Something flickered in her blue eyes, a calm smile playing on her lips—innocent yet carrying a hidden edge that made the air around her tense. The river flowed nearby, quietly carrying away the day's tension.
The three students were withdrawn from the school, and the incident gradually faded from memory, leaving only the tree standing as a silent witness.