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Jack Stallion O' Willy

by Emily Marie Concannon 8 months ago in Short Story
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The Dullahan's Steed: Continuing Story

Chapter 1: Who is Your Horse?

I’ve always loved the wild outdoors. There is something about the brisk wind of morning that makes me feel alive. When I was a boy, I used to sneak out if from home before even my dad woke up. That was when I first started to find out who I was meant to be.

I am Jack. Jack O’ Willy is my favorite name. What was my name before? Why Does it Matter? I am not him anymore. Now, I am Jack O’ Willy.

Who is Jack O Willy you’re asking? That can’t be told in just a few sentences. But, that’s why you’re here, yes? You’ve come to hear a story. And, a story you shall hear.

As I said, the cold mornings were the first thing that helped me decide who I was. When I was but 7 years old I snuck out of my parents croft before the sun broke the horizon. How old am I now, you say? By golly, where are your manners! You shall not find that one out I guarantee it.

Anyway, back to my tale. I came to the river that runs along the farm land of my family and our neighbors. There were some curious sheep who wondered what I was up to. I gestured to them to keep quiet so I might focus. They would not snitch on me, I was certain.

I hopped across the lovely river and made my way to my neighbors pasture. There I saw him. The Stallion. He was black as midnight. His eyes held only a small glimmer of light. And, he had fire in his veins. I knew in my soul that this beast must be the Dullahans steed.

My neighbor was unable to tame this creature. Nor was my father, my brother Tommy, nor any of the strongest boys of the village. There was tall that only a Virgin could tame thr beast, so pretty faced Mary was biddened to ride him.

I remember her face that day, pale as a ghost as the men practically threw her on the back of the beast. Needless to say, either she was no virgin or the beast did not care about her condition. Because he buckled dramatically and thrust her off his back and into a pile of manure.

None of the other maids of the village decided to try either.

I’m not sure if they do not trust their virtue or they just don’t trust the Stallion. My dad used to always say their ain’t a Virgin alive in our town. I really didn’t care. Aside from her pretty face, Mary had no real interesting traits. She only stayed home and baked with her mum or read Bible verses in Latin.

I think the Dullahans Stallion wanted someone interesting. Someone who would take him on an adventure. I knew I was the lad for that story.

I watched the eye me carefully. He kicked up his front legs and let out a powerful cry before bringing his front legs back down with a thundering pound. I felt my whole body shake in response to the clamor. But, it was amazing.

Without much thinking (I never think much, I’ve got a good instinct) I charged the creature and let out the biggest roar I could produce. The beast responded by lifting up again and threatening me. I spat on the ground before him.

He seemed shocked at my arrogance. He paused In amazement and I took the opportunity to jump on his back. I grasped his hair and ordered him forward. The creature let out a cry and started to bolt towards the farmers gate.

I pulled back on his hair and he leapt over the small wooded gate. I felt bolts of electricity pulse through my legs and body. I could not believe it. I felt so alive. More alive then I ever felt before. We rode this way for a long while before I brought him back to the farm.

Eventhough he was in my neighbors pasture, j knew we belonged to each other. I gave him water and he drank thr whole bucket.

That afternoon my neighbor visited my parents complaining that a spirit must have some how ridden his horse. Those damn Pixies, he told my dad before he left the house. My dad seemed concerned and warned me to stay away from the dells and valleys. That was where the mischievous creature lay.

“They may just steal ya away, and put a changeling in your place my boy.” He told me in a serious tone before returning to work.

But, I realized, that was what I really wanted. I wanted to be the Pixie. The Fay folk. One of the Shee. Just like the Dullahans Stallion.

That was when I decided to be that. I was a Shee and the Stallion was mine. I’d become the Dullahan just as I was meant to be.

That horse Is my mount. I am Jack O’ Willy and he is Jack Stallion O’ Willy. This is our story.

Short Story

About the author

Emily Marie Concannon

I am a world nomad with a passion for vegan food, history, coffee, and equality.

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