By my blood, I will ride.

Apologies for my absence, I’m normally super good at keeping up with challenges. I didn’t intend to leave Tessa, David and Rea, but I had to for a little while to sort out many things with my own Dove. (Though most people call him Jacob) I will continue to write this year’s story, just out of the times because I love writing but I’m swamped. 

URL: @roseravenkey

@thescorpioracesfestival

Character: Tessa Westfall

Thisby is still grieving the loss of the people who have died on the beach so far. For us it was Thomas Benet, for others it could be anyone. Every day my brother gets up and goes about his daily chores as though he’s fine. He takes Dor to the beach every day, sometimes even feeds and grooms Sleipnir for me too. But he’s not fine. He’s keeping himself busy to avoid thinking about it. He tries to hide it and he can from other people, but not from me. I know him too well. He plasters on a smile every time I walk into a room, though I see him when he thinks I can’t see him. He’s quiet and still. He sits for long periods of time when there are no more chores left to do. 

URL: @roseravenkey

@thescorpioracesfestival

Character: Tessa Westfall

Despite my turmoil of the news Rea gave me yesterday, I have to keep my wits about me today. Today is the first day all the capaill uisce will be on the beach at once. Sleipnir has been on the beach a few times, but not with this many capaill since last year’s races. He’s going to be more highly strung than normal. I must keep my wits about me. He will be like a different beast today. That’s the mistake people make on the beach that gets them killed. They think they know a capall, but when it’s that close to the sea with so many of its kind around it, they change. I will not make that mistake today. Someone will die, but I’ll make sure it won’t be me. 

Mood Board: Thisby

URL: @roseravenkey​

@thescorpioracesfestival​

Character: Tessa Westfall

After the incredible race with my brother and once we spent the whole walk home arguing about who won (I did, of course) I met up with Rea and her new puppy in Skarmouth Town. The pup is an adorable little border collie cross gods know what named Felicity. Why she chose that name I have no idea, though knowing Rea she probably threw a baby names book at a wall, saw what page it landed on then saw the first name on the page. Felicity is the sweetest puppy I’ve ever seen, but Rea wants to show me Jetta’s improvements from the last time I saw her a couple of months ago.

The Scorpio Races Festival Mood Board #1: Sleipnir

 URL: @roseravenkey

@thescorpioracesfestival

Character: Tessa Westfall

The races both excite and terrify me. I don’t know how people can be so calm about them. Last year I won, but at the cost of a scar on my capall’s handsome face. I’ve felt guilty for that ever since. The hair around his eye where that damned mare bit him didn’t grow back in the lovely ebony colour I’d come to love, but a brutally beautiful silvery grey. It was a constant reminder that yes, I won and yes, we both came out relatively okay in the end, but it could have been so much worse, so easily.

@thescorpioracesfestival

It takes ages to get away from the beach after the race. People everywhere are congratulating me. Not that I don’t enjoy that, but I want to get home and clean up Sleipnir’s face. By this point, the blood has leaked all the way down his jawbone and is slowly dripping off his chin. Taking note of this, I finish up on the beach as quickly as is acceptable. I say my goodbyes to Rea, telling her we’d meet up the next day to chat about everything. I then start the walk home with Sleipnir while Sebs takes the car. It’s quite slow. Sleipnir’s blinded by the blood on one side and this makes him jumpy. He spooks at everything on his blind side. He’s a mixture of trotting in place beside me and taking slow cautious steps in the times he’s calmed down a bit. I can’t blame him. I’d freak out if I couldn’t see.

We finally reach home. It’s starting to go dark and the adrenaline from the race has worn off a little, making me feel the cold much more harshly. I see the warm light in the house, but I can’t go in yet. I have things to do. I sigh and lead Sleipnir into the barn. Dor calls out softly as I turn the lights on and Sleipnir hums back. Tying my stallion up with a headcollar outside his stall, I untack him and hose him down over his sweaty chest and flanks. I use the spray to wash the kicked up sand off his belly and legs, taking extra time on his feathers. I check his hooves for signs of wear and see none. I then get to work on his bloody face. I can’t see the extent of the wounds yet. The blood coating his face prevents it. I can’t see if that mare’s teeth got his eye or not. Sleipnir’s squinting, but wouldn’t you if blood was in it. I scratch his neck and jog to the house in search of warm water, grabbing a bucket on my way out.

“How’s he doing?” Sebs inquires as I step over the doormat. 

“I’m not sure yet. Need to sponge him off a bit before I can see the damage properly.” I answer. “I’m not too worried about him though. He had plenty of energy on the way home!”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Hey you want help holding him still while you clean him up, Champion?” I’m not gonna lose that nickname anytime soon, and I don’t intend to. I quite like it. I can still hardly believe I won the race! It’s like something from a novel or film, it’s unreal! I chuckle.

“Yeah, that would be great, Brother-of-the-Champion.”

So I fill up the bucket with warm tap water and grab a clean sponge from under the sink. There’s a first aid kit already in the barn so I’ll get bandages from there if I need them. Sebs puts on his boots and follows me out to the barn.

I motion for Sebs to go in front if my capall and hold him still by the headcollar. He does and I load my sponge with the clean water and get to cleaning out my beloved stallion’s eye first. I squeeze out the sponge over him and the water runs down his face, thinning out the red and allowing me to see that his eye has no direct damage to it. He’ll be able to see perfectly clearly again once all the blood’s cleaned up. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I use the water while it’s still clear to finish rinsing the blood out of his eye. He’s standing surprisingly still while I do this. But then again, the capaill uisce spend their lives with water in their eyes. When it comes to the actual wounds that’s a different story. I’m trying to be as gentle as I can while still being efficient. The mare’s teeth punctured his skin both above and below his eye. It’s a miracle she didn’t damage anything permanently. 

Sleipnir jerks away from my touch as I press the wet sponge to his cuts. Sebs does his best to hold him still as possible but with the power of the capall it’s not really a fair fight. Still, stubborn as my brother is, he never lets go of the headcollar and always brings Sleipnir’s head back in front of me when he moves away. It takes a while, but I manage to clean out the wounds, and wipe the blood off my capall’s cheek and jaw. He almost looks presentable again. He may scar a little but that’s no matter. All through this time Sebs is silent. He just quietly watches me work while holding Sleipnir as still as he can. To finalise my process I wander over to the first aid box’s place on a shelf and take it down. I open the lid and pull out a tube of antiseptic cream. I put a little on my hand and put it onto the cuts on Sleipnir’s face. I can tell it stings him, but he takes it with only minor complaints which surprises the both of us. I bandage up the deeper of the wounds as best I can without covering his eye to stop the last of the bleeding. It’s slowed down incredibly, but I don’t want anything getting in there and messing up my cleaning work. My brother and I both step back and admire my handiwork. 

“There. Not bad, eh?” I say.

“Not bad at all! Hey. Did I say that Mum rang?”

“No... Why? Wait. Do I want to know?” It’s known that my parents worry about me racing. Especially Mum. 

“It’s not that bad. She just wanted to know you’d survived.”

“And...?” I press, coming to stand in front of my brother. His growing smirk was not a comfort to me. 

“I told her you came in first. She wanted to talk to you but I told her you were busy being a Champion and couldn’t come to the phone...”

“AND?!” It was starting to get irritating now.

“She wants us to go over for tea. To celebrate. I said you’d be delighted.”

“WHAT!?” Dinner at my family’s was always an event. Someone was always a diva and everyone always fell out in some way or another. Like last time. I see Sebs laughing.

“Wait. You didn’t did you?” I ask, uncertain.

“Of course not you melon. If you went I’d have to go too. I told her that you’d ring back.”

“Oh thank the gods!” I sigh, relieved. I lightly punch my brother in the chest and move past him to put Sleipnir away. I finish up in the barn and we wander back to the house together. As we’re taking our boots of I say, “Hey Sebs. You know that you didn’t believe in me and I was gonna die for sure in the races?”

“I didn’t say that at all but go on...”

“Pfft. Well anyway. I said I was gonna be fine and I hate to say I told you so, but... I TOLD YOU SO!” I laugh and start to run away, but my brother grabs my leg and trips me up so I land face first on the carpet. I squirm away and crawl backwards shouting in mirth, “How’s first place for ya!?” He tackles me to the ground and I squeal as he pins me down.

@thescorpioracesfestival

 I wake up with a sense of something not quite right in the air. Then it dawns on me. It’s race day.  I think to myself. It’s freaking race day already!? I look over at my phone and wake it up to see the time with blurred morning vision. 9:12am. Not bad... Except for the fact that I need to do tons of stuff before Sleipnir is even ready to leave the stable! Just as I was beginning to panic Sebs walks into my room. He doesn’t knock, he never does. As if he’s a mind reader he limps over and puts a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table with a grim expression. I can’t tell if the face is from his injury playing up again, or from all the arguing we’ve been doing. He hasn’t tried to take any of my tack again; not after that little stunt I pulled last time. He realised soon after that I wasn’t going to give up, but it didn’t stop him from begging me not to race every time I came in from feeding the capaill stallions. 

“Thanks.” I croak as he sits on the foot of my bed. He just nodded and gave a tight-mouthed smile, running his hand through his dark hair. He’s not happy about this. I think he’s convinced I’m going to die today. But he hasn’t seen Sleipnir and I working together for a while now. He hasn’t seen our progress. My stallion is really well behaved as far as capaill go. He screams at any other capall that comes close, promptly scaring them off. He’s by no means “riding school pony” material. I don’t think he ever will be. He’s a handful, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t try to kill me every five seconds like some others do so in my opinion, that’s a good capall uisce.

I take the mug from the table and take a sip. It’s loaded with sugar and milk, but it’s still incredibly bitter for my taste. I’ve never really liked coffee much, but it will keep me sharp for my big race today.

~~~Timeskip to the beach~~~

The clamour of the beach is incredible. People placing last-minute bets, capaill straining at the end of their reins, chewing the bit, all around is shouting and noise.I look to the sand beneath my feet and see the numerous hoof prints and the unmistakable smears of scarlet. No way is that anything but blood. People have already been hurt today, and more will be hurt later on. People will die today, there’s no doubt about that. 

I hand Sleipnir’s reins over to Sebs and go to find out where I can pick up my colours. I’m not sure if the tent is in the same place as it was last year, but I go to see anyway. I’m straining to see over people and horses, which is difficult when you’re as short as I am, but I locate the tent soon enough and stride over to it, weaving in between capaill and people, all jostling for space on the beach. I approach the tent with butterflies in my stomach; this part is quite exciting I have to admit. Getting my colours is how I’ll be identified from the cliffs. 

“Hi, uh... I’m here to collect my colours?” I say a little uncertainly. Sebs got them for me last year so I’m a little unsure what to say.

“Okay that’ no problem. What’s your name and mount?” A small man asked from behind a pair of glasses. His words were kind enough, but his thin face and sharp features with silvering hair made him look rather stern. I blinked once I realised I hadn’t answered quickly enough.

“Oh, sorry. Tessa Westfall on Sleipnir.” I say hurriedly. The man looks down a piece of paper in front of him for a short while before locating my name near the bottom of the page in the “W”s. I rock backwards and forwards on my feet with my hands clasped behind my back as I wait. 

“Ah! Here you are... Westfall... Tessa.” He mumbles more to himself than to me, ticking the box next to my name. A little louder he says, “Here you are. You’ve got the red colours this year.” He hands me the colours and I take them, thanking the man before setting off back to my brother and Sleipnir. I see the stallion just as he sees me, dancing around at the end of his tether. 

“Stop dancing around, you goon.” I mutter, slapping his shoulder lightly with the back of my hand before taking the lead from my brother. We lead the way back up the cliffs a little before reaching the car. I tie up Sleipnir on a fence post as I get out the tack from the back of the car. The beast has already been groomed over and over again to perfection. The tack has all been cleaned and my boots, chaps and breeches are there waiting for me on the front seat. I tack up my stallion first. Methodically I put on the black medieval-style bridle, then the colours, and then the rest of the tack over them. Red isn’t Sleipnir’s ideal colour. He suits emerald green more than anything, but I have to admit, the blood colour looks surprisingly good on him. Once I’m all ready and dressed up myself I don’t know what to do so I just wait with Sebs in the warmth of the car. Sleipnir isn’t going anywhere outside, tied up as he is. I don’t have long now. We listen in silence to the announcements being made over the loudspeaker on the beach.

We hear the call at the same time, jerking to attention.

“Riders, line up!” 

I step out of the car onto the cold earth and stride over to my mount. I’m trying to ignore my nerves. I just have to get through the next few minutes. I run the stirrup irons down the leathers before making a last minute check on my girth. Everything is in place, just as it should be. I take my reins and try to get my foot up into the stirrup to pull myself up into the saddle but there are two problems. One is that the stirrup is at its jockey length. Far too high for me to reach from the ground. The second problem is that Sleipnir is all excited and won’t stand still. “Bloody beast.” I curse under my breath. Sebs laughs and hauls himself out the car with no small amount of effort. He holds the bridle on each side of Sleipnir’s face and holds him as still as he can while I struggle to jump onto his back.

“Beastie troubles?” I hear a familiar voice call from behind.

“Hey Rea.” I say, glad to see my friend, but pissed off at my capall.

“Leg up?” She laughs.

“Oh, Gods please. That would help loads.” I sigh in relief, grateful for the boost. She walks over to Sleipnir, who takes no notice of her. She gives me a quick hug and then motions for me to stand next to the huge quivering body of my horse. I take up the reins again, holding the saddle in my hands as high as I can reach. I bend my left knee at a right angle and Rea takes my leg in her hands and counts down.

“Three, two, one, jump!”

So I do and she pushes up on my leg at the same time, giving me just the extra help I needed. I swing into the saddle and she even helps me with my stirrups, making sure I was comfortable before standing back.

“You guys don’t look too shabby together you know.” She muses at me and the beast below me. I laugh and motion to Sebs letting him know he can let go of the bridle now, I have control. Just before he does though, he leans forwards and takes ahold of one of Sleipnir’s long ears in his hand and whispers in it, so low I can barely hear. 

“You take care of my little sister, you hear me? You bring her home.” He stands back and pats my knee before wishing me luck. 

“We’ll be watching from the cliffs. The both of us!” Rea calls.

I thank the both of them and hear a second call from the beach.

“Riders. Line up!”

I trot my hyper stallion down the short distance to the starting line. The jostle of sea-crazed capaill is almost unbearable. They’re all driven mad being this close to the ocean. It calls them. 

The countdown begins. My heart pounds in my chest.

“Three, two, one! And they’re off!” The poles lift and the mass of fish-scented horses surge forwards. If I wasn’t holding on so tight, I’d fall off. The amount of raw power beneath me shocks me every time. I almost lose myself to the thrill. But I can’t. That would be a distraction. Distractions get you killed. So I focus on the race. Every part of my body and mind working overtime to avoid the jostling bodies as much as possible. We still get pushed around by the group and I think I’ll be stuck in the middle of the race the whole time. I have a grey mare in front of me, a chestnut on my left and a bay on my right. I don’t know what’s behind me, but I can hear them. I’m solidly in the middle of the group right now. It’s a dangerous place to be. Sleipnir snakes his head to the sides and snaps at the other capaill. I check him, because he’s getting distracted and I can’t afford that. However, his antics startle the chestnut which triggers a chain reaction leading to the grey in front of us moving over a little. This is my chance. Before anyone else can take it, I give Sleipnir a sharp kick to the ribs to redirect his attention into moving forward. We’re already galloping at an incredible speed but once we have space in front of us the pace is unbelievable. I can feel Sleipnir’s muscles pumping beneath my legs, he’s breathing deeply and steadily with each stride. I can’t believe how fast we’re going. It catches me out every time, but this is a whole new pace altogether. The excitement of the day must be giving us a new adrenaline or something. 

I trust my capaill more than most people do and I know his limits. Others are avoiding the surf, but I know that I can get a little closer to it than the others. So that’s what I do. I hear the pounding of my stallion’s hooves against the wet sand as the very edges of the waves lap at his legs. He turns his ear towards the sea, wanting to answer its call, but I slap his neck and his ear flicks back to me again and away from the wind of our speed.

This is when I notice. We’re almost at the front. I gasp and laugh to myself a little. With our built up tolerance of the sea we had managed to pass a lot of the other horses. We weren’t out of the woods yet though by any means. Anything could go wrong at this point. I see the finish line ahead of us in the distance. We’re just over half way now.  Then it does go wrong. The grey mare from before comes out of nowhere and is matching us stride for stride for the time being. I’m between her and the sea, which is a dangerous place to be. Her eyes are wide and scream out her feral nature. Her rider loses control and she lunges at Sleipnir. Her jaw opens, revealing her white teeth just before they latch onto Sleipnir’s face. 

He screams out in pain as blood wells over his eye. I’m just praying she doesn’t blind him. He manages to shake her off, still galloping at full pelt, but she takes some of his skin with her. She dives into the sea, rider and all. She disappears for a second then resurfaces, more blood on her face and no rider. I assess the damage to Sleipnir’s face as best I can from his back. Bless him he’s still galloping his heart out for me though. The blood has spilled from the wounds just above and below his eye. Crimson on black, just like his colours. It makes for an impressive war paint, but the blood has blinded him on that side. His eye is squinted half shut and he tilts his head to view better from his good eye. His pace never falters.

“Good lad!” I shout. “Just a little further and then we can stop, good lad!” This encourages him further and somehow he puts on yet another level of speed I didn’t know about. Soon enough it’s just me and two other capaill at the very front of the race. I recognise the other riders as Charlene Murphy and Finley Holloway. I don’t know how I know them, but everyone knows everyone on Thisby so I’m not surprised.

It’s just us three. Battling it out. The other horses are all squabbling and snorting behind us. It’s between us three now. I’m happy coming in third place. I don’t mind. I’d be happy just to make it home without any further injury. I’ll have a few bruises myself from the way the other riders and capaill slammed into us at the start, but I’m mostly worried about Sleipnir’s eye. I don’t think the mare damaged his eye itself, but I’m worried nonetheless. The finishing line approaches faster and faster, the three capaill get closer and closer together. I close my eyes and hold my breath as we cross the finishing line. I don’t know who’s won. I know I’m finished and I’m relieved. That’s when a mass of people surround us, most of them clapping and cheering at me and Sleipnir. I’m confused. I didn’t win, did I? I just sit there on my panting capall’s back for a second before sliding off and patting his neck, still slightly confused. I then realise I’m breathing just as deeply as he is. He’s slick with sweat and seawater. 

I let my mount breathe for a minute, he deserves that at the very least and just as I take a step back, arms wrap around my waist and lift me into the air.

“Sebastian what the hell are you doing!? Get off me!” 

“Are you kidding me!? You just WON Tessa! You won the Scorpio Races!” My brother can barely contain his excitement.

“I what!?” He laughs at my dumbfounded expression.

“Tessa. You. Won. The. Race. YOUWONTHERACE!” I squealed and gave him a hug tight enough to kill a man as it finally dawned on me. I look around and see the photographers there, ready to take mine and Sleipnir’s photo. The race officials approaching me all saying their congratulations. I look around. There are fewer riders than we started out with. I glance back down the beach before looking away hastily. It’s absolute carnage. Smears of red everywhere. There are a few capaill bodies lying in the sand, mouths slack and eyes half-lidded. More officials are covering other bodies along the beach. Much smaller than the capaill ones. There is no sign of the ones we lost to the sea, apart from the torn leather of a broken bridle being swept against the sand.