It was late evening in the town when Tommy stretched his aching body. He was better now, healed - as healed as he could be. 

He was no young colt anymore, and every encounter where he ended up on the back foot, or worse, had him coming back slower than the previous time. The bite on his neck had turned into a fresh scar. He was lucky it didn’t limit his motion at all. He couldn’t say the same for when they had tried to pass the Rotmane again. Or rather, when he had stubbornly tried to pass it again. The creature had been sleeping, but only just so; Tommy had made one wrong move, and it nearly cost him his life. The larger-than-life creature had awakened, and in its anger nearly made mince out of him. He wasn’t sure how he had made it out, most likely through the combined efforts of his party. 

The last thing he remembered before things fell into darkness was the angry look he gave to Frankie over his shoulder, moving forward towards the path past the creature, and then his body slamming against the wall. He remembered hearing his bones crack, his flesh smacking against the ancient wall with such force it likely left a permanent mark. What happened after that, he had no idea until much later when he finally woke up at the healer’s hut.

Apparently, he had been asleep for several days, and the healer, Matthias, had to pull out every trick in the book to keep him on this side of life. Returning to walking condition had been hard, and he had refused to let Frankie see him. He could feel it, somewhere deep in his chest, how the roan felt about it all.

His restless sleep was full of dreams and nightmares, Frankie screaming and pleading for his return. His dreams were a mix of reality and possibility, in some he chose to listen to the little roan and leave the dungeon when it was sensible. He walked out, took the safe path, and they went on their way, fading into another quiet day topside. Sometimes he watched himself limp into the Rotmane’s chamber through Frankie’s eyes, trying to whisper to himself to return, to come back, to not do the dangerous thing.

Through Frankie’s eyes, his body looked worse than he felt then; he was barely walking without a limp, his neck was still covered in black blood mixed with his own, and he looked almost dazed. He watched himself get thrown into the wall and collapse on the ground, followed by a flush of fear and anger in the small body that he was using as a camera. Frankie had fought off the creature with the help of Archie and, surprisingly enough, Wraith. The dream fades and he finds himself at Matthias’ place again, watching himself sleep.

He was unmoving, the only sign of life being his steady breathing. He could feel the dread that reached Frankie’s bones and his soul, gripping the unseen connection between them. He couldn’t hear Frankie’s thoughts, but he knew he looked frail and tired. He was covered in various cuts and bruises, his bad leg wrapped with a splint, and the gaping maw of a wound on his neck was covered with another healing salve, the stark contrast of its bright color to his dark coat making it obvious just how big the bite had been.

Frankie was banged up too, but much less than he was.

Matthias said something to the little roan, words Tommy heard in another dream before, wondering if he had on some level been able to hear what had been said. They seemed to be bickering quietly. Maybe Matty was suggesting Frankie should go rest as well. Instead, the little roan got down slowly, settling next to Tommy, and stayed there. He whispered something against Tommy’s dark muzzle, and he felt a jolt run through his body when Frankie’s muzzle touched his head before the roan settled to sleep next to him.

He wondered how many days Frankie had spent there, very uncomfortable, watching over him with Copper. The old hound hadn’t left his side for a second. He wasn’t entirely sure how Matty managed to force the dog to eat and drink while it kept vigil next to him.

Eventually the dream faded as Frankie left him, some time before he woke up for the first time. He felt heartbreak and worry in every step the roan took away from the hut until he couldn’t feel him anymore, the string between them stretching out even if the feeling wasn’t as strong as when they were side by side. When Tommy had woken up from that dream, he felt guilty. He felt guilty for many reasons, but the worst one was telling Matty he didn’t want to see Frankie immediately. He had heard the roan, an excited lilt in his voice, when he heard Tommy was up again. It disappeared as quickly as it arrived with the news that he wouldn’t be able to see the old gray. The shame made Tommy feel like he was drowning, but he couldn’t bring himself to see Frankie right away. Not yet. He needed time to heal and get back on his feet again, to swallow his pride and nurse his shame without having to look anyone in the eye.

It took longer than he wanted to admit, and it was harder than he liked, but in the end, Tommy did find his feet again. Slowly, with help from Matty and whatever gross potions he mixed for him to drink, he slowly found his feet and eventually managed to take a walk with Copper all on his own. Copper was excited as ever to finally have Tommy moving with him again and, over time, he was able to move more, find his feet again in faster paces as well.

He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until he saw Frankie for the first time since their last joint campaign. It wasn’t that he had changed all that much; he was still short, still roan, and as chipper as before, but definitely stronger, in body and mind.

Tommy had been returning from another walk with Copper when the dog had suddenly sprinted off to his side, greeting Joaquin, Frankie’s fox. It dowered Tommy’s mood more, realizing that he had kept them apart, albeit unintentionally. Copper would’ve never agreed to leave his side when he was in recovery, and Joaquin was busy traveling with Frankie.

Tommy stood still, watching Frankie chat with Matty for a moment. He stood more straight than before, more sure of himself. He had teased Frankie in the past of trying to look taller than he was, but the way he stood now, he felt taller. He was more confident, more firm in his step. There was no denying he had used his time away wisely, likely exploring the dungeons with Archie and Wraith and who knows who else. The thought made Tommy’s heart twinge with jealousy, giving a sharp yank to the string between them.

Looking at Frankie basking in sunlight and talking with Matty so excitedly about something - likely his most recent adventure - made Tommy feel his age. Who was he fooling, trying to keep up with Frankie? He was sure every time he moved his bones creaked and the healing scar on his neck burned again with phantom pain. He made rash decisions that put their group in danger, and he had the gall to say Frankie was wrong?

He moved closer quietly, Frankie looking at him the moment Copper reached Joaquin and they ran off together. The roan smiled at him, happy, but it’s sharper than before. There was a look Tommy didn’t understand in his eyes, but he knew there were things unsaid between them that he would need to address eventually.

He knew Matty hadn’t been expecting Frankie to come by. He wouldn’t ambush Tommy with his visit, even though Tommy had mentioned that he should seek Frankie out. Talk to him. Apologize.

Even if he walked closer to Frankie, he felt like they were standing on opposite sides of a ravine, and endless darkness between them that couldn’t be crossed over. He tried to keep his expression neutral, maybe even for a little smile on his face to indicate he was happy to see Frankie, that seeing the roan again was what made him get up and work himself until exhaustion to be better, stronger, more wise and not lead him astray again.

All of his thoughts washed away when Frankie trotted over, his muscular body swaying to an unheard beat and the roan pushing his face right into Tommy’s shoulder like nothing had changed. He sounded so excited, so happy to see Tommy again, and he immediately started to ramble about everything he had been doing while Tommy was in recovery. Tommy listened, soaking in every word, breath, and Frankie’s scent. Having Frankie right against his side, explaining his adventures, felt warm and right. It felt like home again, and listening to Frankie prattle on while seeing from the corner of his eye Joaquin and Copper playing together. Something about it all felt like when he had seen the vision in the mirror, and as if on cue, Frankie brings it up as well.

“Ay, Tomás, then we ran into the mirror again. Like a curse, that thing is.”

Tommy looked amused, looking at Frankie with full focus now, ignoring the playing pets.

“Did it show you anything new?” He wondered out loud, more to himself than as an actual question.

“No? I did not look. I have seen enough.” Frankie answered quickly, leaving Tommy to wonder if it was just him or did he feel the small roan fluster slightly when asking about the vision.

When they reached Matty, their conversation came to an end, and he found out why Frankie was here unexpectedly. He was bringing Matty some of the herbs and other ingredients found in the dungeons, as Frankie was soon ready to go on another campaign with his friends. Hearing the word friend made something churn inside Tommy, too polite to ask how long Frankie was going to be or how deep into the underground he was hoping to travel. Harvest season was often more busy than usual, with the end of summer and beginning of the darker time of year making spirits and Coursers alike more lively.

Before Tommy could think, his mouth moved, as if on its own.

“Would you like to go take a walk through the pumpkin fields? With me.” He added, as if it wasn’t obvious what he was asking of Frankie.

Matthias excused himself, taking the herbs and ingredients back to his hut to leave them talk alone.

“I would—it would be nice to go before you are off to another campaign. We could… talk.” He usually didn’t struggle to find his words, but at this moment, it felt like his tongue kept trying to flip backwards into his throat and choke him out.

Frankie took a moment to consider before giving Tommy another bright smile, nodding enthusiastically.

“Of course, Tomás. This evening? I have some preparations still for the campaign. Meet here? Before the sun goes down?”

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll meet you then, Frankie.” Tommy didn’t mean to say it with such a tone of finality, but the small roan took it as a sign to take his leave, giving a little hump on the gray’s shoulder before shouting his goodbye to Matty and heading out. Good, Tommy thought; he could talk things out with Frankie while they took in the autumn sights and maybe, if they made it back into town in time, have some festive treats.

In the short time they had spent together, he felt more healed and at home than he had until then. He knew Frankie was still holding back, trying to ignore the unspoken things between them. Maybe for his benefit, or maybe Frankie had moved on and didn’t want to think about it all, but Tommy knew if they left things as they are, they would eventually fester like the wound on his neck. They needed to clean the air and then move on.

Whether it would be adventuring again together, he wasn’t quite so sure.

Whenever he saw Frankie move, smile and be so full of life, it reminded him of his age. How he had led them astray in the dungeon, how he had chosen to be stubborn over careful. Foolish mistakes by an old stallion. He had known many like that in his time, too stubborn to accept they weren’t in their prime anymore and ended up dying or permanently wounded in the dungeons. He had always said he would never turn out like one of them, but here he stood at Matty’s hut door, wondering if he had behaved exactly as he swore he never would. 

The evening came surprisingly fast. Tommy had forgotten how quickly the darkness creeps in and the artificial lights around town get lit, bringing everything to life again. The lights made the air feel different; maybe it was the ache settling in at his old bones. Night air felt colder, crisper, to him. He knew the Harvester was on the move and everyone was doing their best to bring their offerings and celebrate the season. The harvest was about to end soon, and the cold of winter was just around the corner. For now, he would enjoy the crisp evening air, the sky full of stars, and the town illuminated by the various lights. It was beautiful, and clearly many others were heading out to the fields as well.

Tommy fidgeted, finding himself more nervous than he had thought to be. Frankie wasn’t late, but he didn’t feel like waiting inside Matty’s place any longer. He had also started to set the healer on edge with his constant pacing. He had chosen to leave Copper home, one less thing for him to worry about, as the fields would be busy with most of the town going out. When Frankie finally showed up, Tommy tried to look casual and smile happily at the little roan whose energy was barely different from their daytime meetup. He was his usual bubbly and energetic self.

“Hola, Tomás.” Frankie greeted him, coming right into his personal space, muzzle running down his neck and shoulder, bumping against it. The tension and jittery energy left Tommy’s body immediately, and he embraced Frankie back.

There was always a scent of flowers about him, and Tommy wondered if the small roan had his own garden somewhere. There was no garden in the vision he saw in the mirror, but maybe he just didn’t know to think of one. He tried not to be creepy and take a deep inhale of Frankie’s scent, but rather embrace him back and allow the energy they shared to feed off each other. The night felt warmer now with Frankie next to him, and he looked forward to their time out at the pumpkin fields. Someone else might call it a date, but he dampened his expectations on that. They were not together. The mirror’s visage wasn’t real, and nothing between them was set in stone.

If anything, things were fragile and Tommy was afraid at any given moment he would shatter it; he had already created the first cracks.

Thinking about it, he felt a pinch in the healing wound on his neck, steadily becoming a forever reminder of his nearly deadly mistake.

After greetings, they made their way into town and took in the sights of the evening. From the lights to the decorations, everyone was doing their best to celebrate the harvest. They looked through the various stalls offering treats and decorations celebrating the harvest, and one of their last stops before reaching the fields was a booth selling paper decorations, masks and other seasonal things. Tommy noticed a bright orange flower, delicately made from folded paper with streaks of black going through the petals, possibly painted in. Something of it spoke to him, more so as something to give Frankie. He bought it, calling Frankie over from the other booth he was examining.

Words stuck to his throat for a moment before he shook his head to clear it, gently smiling to the little roan.

“I bought this. I thought, maybe—you would like it.” He could barely put a coherent sentence together, relief washing over him when Frankie looked at him with excitement, nodding.

“Tomás, yes, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” Frankie’s warm aura spread into Tommy while he set the paper flower on Frankie’s mane, the booth owner’s dragon pet helping braid the silk straps into the roan’s mane to hold the flower in place.

There was a soft blush on both of their cheeks, even though they did not bring it up to each other.

They finally make it to the pumpkin fields, walking side by side. The festivities are in full swing with Coursers of all kinds and walks of life enjoying the season. The Harvester stands in the distance, his red gaze going over the fields and festival goers. Frankie and Tommy blend into the mix seamlessly, Tommy letting Frankie take the lead, stopping at the various booths and playing little party games. There were an abundance of foals, many of the festivities made with them in mind, and Tommy’s mind wandered to his mirror vision once more, wondering if it was to come true, would they bring their foal to the festival and let him play around like the others.

The thought made a lump form in his throat, and after they had walked over the grounds a few times around, he suggested if Frankie wouldn’t mind walking deeper into the actual pumpkin fields, somewhere more quiet than the busy festival area. Frankie agreed, following Tommy as they walked off and until he was sure they were out of earshot of anyone else, Tommy took a deep breath and started talking.

“I am… sorry for what happened. It shouldn’t have come to what it did. I put everyone in danger and that wasn’t fair.”

Frankie listened to Tommy talk quietly, nodding along. Tommy wondered if Frankie would even accept him as part of his adventuring party again.

“It won’t happen again. I know you have been adventuring with Basil and someone else. I understand if you wouldn’t want me to get in the mix again.”

“No, Tommy, of course I want to adventure with you again. Everyone makes mistakes.” The small roan denied the claim that he wouldn’t want Tommy with them ever again, gently nudging against his neck and booping against his cheek.

Tommy told himself the warmth he felt was just from the walk they were having. Frankie smiled at him, in the way that made his brown eyes sparkle. Tommy could stare at him for hours and never get tired of the warmth. He could count every white hair in Frankie’s mixed coat and never get bored. He cherished these quiet moments with him, even when he couldn’t bring it to so many words. Something told him that Frankie understood. He knew how Tommy felt, even if he didn’t say it.

The tall gray snakes his neck over the roan’s, embracing him for a moment right there, in the middle of nowhere. He closed his eyes and let out a very long breath, feeling Frankie wrap around him as much as he could, standing in quiet, just holding each other. After a while, they continue walking and talking, Frankie curious about Tommy’s past adventures and telling of his own. They fall into easy conversation, walking and talking as they move almost automatically towards nowhere specific.

A faint squeal followed by more sounds breaks them from the moment. Tommy finally looks away from the roan, checking their surroundings; he hadn’t paid any attention to where exactly they had been walking to, too occupied by holding each other while talking. They were near a ledge that was above the vast fields, and below, the faint sounds could be heard. They weren’t sounds of the festival; they were sounds of fighting. Of war. The sounds of Coursers clashing with each other, armor against armor and shouts in languages long forgotten.

The darkness had come suddenly, enveloping everything in it; neither of them had noticed it, perhaps a little too preoccupied with each other to care. Walking up towards the edge of the ledge they were on, Tommy turns to glance at Frankie and warns, “Careful. Wouldn’t want to fall.”

He smiles, knowing the roan was more sure in his step than Tommy currently.

They stand side to side on the ledge, looking down, expecting to see fields of pumpkins. Instead, everything is covered in yellow flowers, covering the fields and almost creating patterns. Neither recognised the patterns, but the sounds of wars long past made both of them uneasy. The sounds of the night were unsettling, sending a shiver down to Tommy’s bones. He hadn’t seen war, but he knew these weren’t sounds of play or practice. It was creepy enough that there were nothing but flowers on the fields, with the Harvester standing in the distance, his red gaze the only source of light aside from the moon and stars in the sky.

The blooming flowers created their own weird light to the night, the bright yellow reflecting off each other in the darkness; it reminded Tommy of the sea, but instead of being dark shades of blue and green, it was yellow, almost like lava. He huffed, shaking his head. Harvest season was always an unusual time of the year, but he had never before witnessed something like this. He touched Frankie’s cheek, breathing in his scent. The soft floral scent of the roan calmed his mind, and he nudged his companion gently.

“We best return home now. The dead are restless. Wouldn’t want them on our tail on the way back.”

Frankie agreed, and they made quick of their return, leaving the sounds of the dead behind. While moving at a quicker pace than they had arrived, Tommy couldn’t help glancing behind as they moved towards the town. He could swear the flowers had crept closer than they were before, but the further they got, the quieter the sounds got. They were haunting but slowly mixed in with the sounds of the night.

He would make sure to walk Frankie home himself, not wanting to leave the little roan alone for a moment in the darkness. He couldn’t help the feeling that something was watching them in the night, looming over as they made it back to town and back to the paper lights illuminating the quiet roads.