Chapter 2: The Misty Valley
Part 2 – Arrival at the Wooden-Horse Manor
The first glimpse of the Misty Valley stole the breath from my lungs.
We emerged from a narrow mountain pass, and before us stretched an expanse that looked less like land and more like a dream. A silvery mist curled above endless plains of grass, each blade shimmering faintly as though brushed with starlight. The haze clung low, weaving across the fields like a living veil, and within it, shadows moved—swift, graceful, untamed.
"The Wind Chasing Horses," Father said, his voice carrying a note of pride.
I pressed my hand against the carriage window, eyes widening. At first, I thought the shapes were illusions conjured by the mist, but then one burst forth with a surge of speed. Its coat gleamed white as untouched snow, but when the creature shifted, the white blurred, fading into the silver haze until it was nearly invisible. Only its emerald eyes gave it away—piercing, luminous, alive.
They weren't horses as the villages knew them. They were something else entirely—spirits woven into flesh. Their long manes flowed like rivers of green silk, and as they raced across the plains, it was as though the wind itself bent to their stride.
My heart hammered. I had seen them before, from a distance, when Father had taken me on shorter trips. But never like this, never so many at once. Here, they weren't caged, broken things. They were storms with legs, freedom incarnate.
Father glanced at me, catching my awe. "The Wooden-Horse Manor breeds them, raises them, and guards their legacy. It is one of my proudest holdings."
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the spectacle outside. "They're… beautiful."
"They are power, Lailac," he corrected softly. "Remember that."
The carriage rattled down a slope, the mist thickening until it licked at the wheels. Soon, the outline of vast wooden gates appeared, each beam carved with intricate runes that pulsed faintly in the twilight. Guards stood at either side, their armor not of dull steel but polished with faint jade inlays, spears tipped with crystal that hummed with dormant energy.
As we approached, one of the guards struck the butt of his spear against the ground. The gates shuddered, then parted, revealing the manor beyond.
The Wooden-Horse Manor was no ordinary estate. Its architecture flowed with the land itself—roofs curved like the bend of mountains, beams entwined with vines heavy with blossoms, courtyards paved with stone that seemed to glow faintly under the moonlight. Lanterns swayed from high posts, casting warm halos against the mist.
Stableyards stretched in every direction, vast enough to rival a city's district. Within them, Wind Chasing Horses grazed calmly, their bodies half-shrouded in drifting haze, like guardians of another realm. The sound of their hooves striking the earth was thunder muted by distance, a heartbeat that thrummed through the valley.
I leaned forward, drinking in every detail. "It feels… alive."
Father nodded, his expression unreadable, though I thought I caught a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "It is alive. The land here breathes with the horses. Without them, this valley would be nothing but fog and silence."
As the carriage rolled deeper, attendants hurried forward, bowing low before Father. At their head was a woman in emerald robes, her hair tied in a neat bun, eyes keen and warm all at once. I recognized her immediately—Linn, Father's most trusted attendant, the one who had always lingered at the edges of my childhood.
"Lord Haines, welcome home," she said, voice carrying across the courtyard. Then her gaze softened as it fell on me. "And young mistress Lailac. It has been too long."
I managed a small nod, suddenly self-conscious under her fond regard.
The carriage halted, and Father stepped down first, offering his hand to me. I took it, my feet touching the courtyard stones. The mist curled low around my ankles, cool and damp like a whisper of welcome.
The manor rose tall before me, warm light spilling from its windows. Behind me, the sound of horses echoed through the night, and for the first time in years, the air around me didn't feel hostile. It felt… expectant.
Father rested a hand briefly on my shoulder. "This is where you'll learn, Lailac. This valley, these beasts—they may yet give you the strength that the estate could not."
Strength. Hope. Expectations. The words swirled around me like the mist, heavy yet fragile.
I lifted my chin, gazing across the vast stables, the endless plains, and the emerald-eyed shadows racing freely in the night.
The Misty Valley… maybe here, I can become something more than weakness.