I entered a roleplaying/fanfic version of the Scorpio Races. This is based on the book by Maggie Stiefvater, The Scorpio Races. It’s on Tumblr, but I’m posting the fanfic stuff here for you guys, too. Here is the link to the info and the account hosting if anyone is interested. Enjoy!
I am terrified of horses.
When I was little, I had a nightmare about a horse eating me. It stuck with me for the rest of my life, because around here people get eaten by horses a lot. That’s the trouble with Thisby.
My name is Beth. I don’t know my last name. The story goes that I was found on the beach when I was a baby. My parents were most likely eaten by one of the cappall uisce.
Most people say it was a miracle I wasn’t eaten.
No. I just got eaten later in a dream, which made living here a nightmare. I stay away from the stables. I stay away from the beach. The only places that feel safe are the little shop called Fathom & Sons and the church.
At least, they used to feel safe.
I spend a lot of time at the church. I’m not forced to, I just like praying. Especially around the time of the Scorpio Races. And besides, it’s not as if I have many other ways to spend my time. I don’t really have any friends who are under the age of twenty.
I must have felt really lonely that cold October morning when I went to the church. I had somehow gotten it into my head to pray for a friend who was close to my age. And I also prayed for something to do besides pray and help out at the shop. I felt a little bad for this, but God understood what I meant, right?
The church was pretty much empty. Since it wasn’t Sunday, this was understandable. But not even Father Mooneyham was around.
But someone must have been around. After I’d been on my knees with my eyes closed for a few minutes, I heard someone loudly breathing and I heard footsteps of at least two people coming into the church.
If I hadn’t stayed up so late the previous night (it was a good book) and if I hadn’t been so engrossed in talking to God, I probably would have noticed how wrong the breathing and the footsteps sounded.
I wasn’t aware anything was going on until I felt hot breath on my face and my shoulder was nudged and the air suddenly smelled strongly like the ocean and dead fish.
I opened my eyes and found myself face to face with a cappall.
I almost screamed. But the last thing I needed was this thing startling and deciding to eat me. I bit my lip and tried to think clearly.
I couldn’t think.
I forget about the charms I always carry with me just in case. I’m a religious person and believe God will protect me, yes, but I also believe in common sense and I know that these things are sometimes calmed by the red ribbons and stuff. Sometimes.
But the cappall doesn’t do anything. It just stands there, staring at me.
I stare back because I really don’t know what else to do.
I hear a quiet gasp. I hear a whisper, “Go get Sean Kendrick.” I don’t take my gaze away from the big grey water horse.
I hear footsteps. Father Mooneyham is suddenly standing beside me. He whispers, “Just what have you been praying for, Elizabeth?”
Sean Kendrick comes to get the cappall out of the church. No one knows how it got inside in the first place.
While he’s taking care of it, I tell Father Mooneyham how I prayed for a friend and something to do.
He raises his eyebrows, looks at the water horse then back to me. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. Elizabeth, I believe God sent this creature. And that He wants you to be in the Scorpio Races.”
A million protests come to mind. Why would God want me to do something so dangerous?
Sean Kendrick interrupts my thoughts. “What do you want me to do with this cappall?” he asked.
He’s looking at me. I open my mouth but before I can say anything he adds, “He’s really gentle. And he did just come up to you.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can think about them. “I want to race. I want to race him.”
Sean smiles and nods like a proud older brother. “You sure?”
I nod again. I stand up and slowly walk forward. I reach out a hand then pull it back. What if the horse just snapped it off? Isn’t there some kind of ritual or something before you can pet a cappall?
Sean’s smile fades. “We’re going to have to work on that fear of yours. If you aren’t confident, you are pretty much dead already.” I duck my head and he adds, “I’ll take him to my stables. Take a day and think about this.”
I nod then watch as Sean leads the stallion away.
Thinking the word ‘stallion’ gives me chills.
I’m thinking about naming him Miraculous.