No Man's Land, some 75 kilometers from the western border of Verigarde
The sun illuminated the unending grassy field. Its brilliant rays created a warm glow that reflected off of the dew drops left from yesterday's rain shower. The gentle breeze intangibly drifted across the tips of the grass, generating synchronized waves across the field. Atop a shallow hill overlooking this field stood five horse-mounted men, all shrouded in loose wool clothing, protecting their bodies from the gelid northern winds that possess the ability to transform a seemingly temperate region into a frozen wasteland in as little as an hour. Facing these five Verigarde warriors was a single elephant, which had been monitoring the soldiers since their arrival from afar. The elephant stood almost four meters tall, patiently waiting for them to make their move. Their leader turned to face them. He looked to his initiates, a burning fire in his eyes. This was their rite of passage, and he was nothing short of proud.
“Remember your training. Make it fast, and don't disappoint me.” he spoke in an ever familiar monotonous gravely voice.
The two horsemen to the back started away from the group, slowly approaching the elephant, which was close to 100 meters away from them. The right horseman unhooked the coil of rope he had bound to his waistline. He slowly ran the rope through his hands until he reached one end, which he threw towards the other rider. The elephant, which had previously been calmly observing the Verigarde horsemen, began to stamp its front feet into the ground as a way of scaring the feeble-minded horses back. Undaunted, the horses continued to move forward, connected by a single rope shared by both of the riders on each end. Without warning, the elephant began to charge them. With tusks that extend outward like spears and a skull as strong as steel, the elephant is, and always has been, a formidable opponent, and has become an excellent challenge for Verigards to prove themselves as horsemen.
The other three watched as the elephant focused down the left horseman, who instinctively separated from his partner and lured the elephant away, still holding onto the rope. Just as they had been trained, the right horseman began to advance forward, trying to get around the elephant, which was closing in on the other horseman. As the elephant was within 20 meters, the riders began to circle the elephant, which slowly turned its lumbering body to face the riders. Initially, the plan was to encircle the elephant and have it trip over the rope, a tactic that was developed by the zealous horsemen a generation ago, our leader being one of them. As the riders encompassed the elephant, the rope in a circle around its legs, they moved to complete their trap.
The elephant, clearly disoriented, unexpectedly threw its mass towards the riders. The rider that originally distracted the elephant instinctively pulled away, but the other rider found himself facing the elephant, which was barreling towards him uncontrollably. The rider had no time to react, and the elephant collided with the horse. The rider and the horse were tossed to the elephant's side, throwing the rider from the saddle and crushing the horse's rib cage. The trap had failed, and the elephant triumphantly galloped away from the disorganized mess that called themselves Verigards.
The three warriors rode towards the initiates, their leader riding before the other two. The other initiate dismounted his horse and approached the downed rider, who trembled as he slowly rose to his feet. He looked up just in time for the other initiate's fist to connect with his cheek. He fell to the ground again, now with strands of blood leaking from his mouth. We stood over them, watching as the fallen horseman was senselessly beaten by his partner, who repeatedly struck at his face and upper torso. At the same time, the initiate spat profanities at his partner on the ground, blaming him for their failure. The fire in the leader's eyes had faded, and was replaced with a cold, disapproving gaze. He finally dismounted, approaching the two initiates. He grabbed the initiate who stood over his partner and brought him to his feet before driving his own fist into the initiate's mouth. The initiate fell backwards, and landed in the grass next to his partner.
“Verigard horsemen are required to work together. The second one man fails is the second the horsemen fail.” he lectured, standing above them. Their eyes were fixed to his, blood dripping from various parts of their faces. “I have never seen such foolishness from any of my horsemen. I expected much more from both of you. What would your parents say? What would your ancestors say?”
He then looked directly at one of his warriors, who was still sitting on his horse, watching the events unfold with a solemn silence. He guided the warrior's eyes towards the dying horse, pointing at the originally beautiful animal, that now laid in the field, struggling to breathe. “Kill her. She did not deserve such an untimely death at such a young age, but there is nothing more we can do.”
Obediently, the warrior nodded, swinging his leg over his horse and landing on the ground. He reached for his crossbow, which rested on his back, much like the bolts beside it. After walking a short distance, he stood above the horse, beads of sweat falling from his hairline. The horse looked back at him, and he could see the confusion and the pain in her eyes. Gazing upon the ghastly sight of the horse's broken body made the warrior pity the animal. He loaded the crossbow, and without hesitation, pulled the trigger, releasing the bolt into the horse's skull. Her breathing stopped, and her mangled body's squirming slowly ceased, with her head dropping the ground, motionless. He slung the crossbow onto his shoulder again and turned back to the group, who stopped to watch him execute the horse.
“Tutei.” the warrior's leader called him by his honorary name. Tutei's eyes immediately snapped to him. “That horse was kin to your own, was it not?”
“Indeed it was. They were siblings. I raised both of them.” Tutei answered, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“And what punishment will you administer to those that destroyed your animal?”
Tutei tensed, hesitating. The expression on their blood-stained faces was one of forgiveness. He sighed, slightly rubbing his strained eyes. “There is no alternative. They will walk back to Verigarde on foot, or not at all.”
The Verigarde leader's eyes met Tutei's in an uneasy gaze, and somewhere in the corners of his dark grey eyes, that fire reignited. “So be it. Let us ride.” he returned to his horse, climbing up onto its back.
Tutei followed, situating himself atop his own horse. As the leader slowly turned back to the east, Tutei followed closely behind him. The other warrior fastened the reins of the surviving horse to his own and followed the other two. The initiates were left alone in the grassy field.
Tutei never saw those boys again. His group assumed they died of exhaustion, as the trip back is challenging without water. Tutei regretted nothing. If they were unable to accomplish what all of the other horsemen had accomplished, then they did not belong in the ranks of the horsemen. In his own mind, this justified their deaths.
