RIDING WITH THE BEAST
The summer grew long and warm, the days stretching golden and slow, and for a time it felt as though the land itself had breathed a sigh of relief. Crops stood tall and green in the fields; flocks grazed the high pastures without fear; children played along the riverbanks where once guards had stood with spears. But beneath the calm, old tensions still hummed, quiet as distant thunder. There were those who watched the changes with narrow eyes, who muttered that we were softening the people, that we were stripping away every hard lesson the world had ever taught us, that one day the sky would darken and we would be helpless because we had laid down our shields.
It came in the form of a messenger one breathless afternoon, galloping hard up the road to Black Rock, his
