The Hero
Eli squinted against the sun. Thunder roared in the near distance; dust obscured the horizon. Shadowy shapes arose from the centre of the cloud: dark, formless beasts with lightening in their feet.
One of the beasts whinnied. Horses. Eli rested against his shovel and watched the procession: eight horses, white and tan and dapple grey, each carrying a rider. In the centre, on a stallion as black as night, was a Hero.
They paid Eli little attention as they drove their mounts past. Nonplussed, Eli pulled his shovel from the ground and returned to good work, and forgot about them.