Directioner Chronicles Book 1: The Five Princes

The Sixth Prince

 As the contestants galloped through the town streets, people gathered in alleyways, balconies, and even on rooftops just to get a good view. The first leg of the race was a highly dramatic affair, with the five of them fighting neck and neck. No one contestant had the lead for more than a few seconds, and their steeds charged relentlessly. However, once they had made it through the city gates, the group started to spread out more evenly on the wider trails, now attempting more complicated maneuvers. Of the five of them, Zayn was no doubt the most accomplished rider of the lot, slowly worming his way to the lead by controlling his forward momentum and angling himself upwards to create more speed. On the sharp turns, his horse seemed to glide in the right direction, as if it was operating without instruction and more on its own natural intuition.

In the distance they could see the forest and hill that marked the halfway point. Zayn was furthest in the lead, but through gritted teeth, Liam began pushing himself as far forward as he could. Zayn noticed this, and slowly began adjusting himself in front of Liam's advancement to keep his position, however it was just as Liam predicted. In one fell swoop, Liam managed to pull right next to Zayn and tried to kick him off, seeing it as the only possible solution.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Zayn roared.

"The princess is mine!" Liam barked back.

Louis, noticing this sudden opportunity, rushed forward and began harassing Zayn as well.

"Get away from me you cucks!" Zayn was about to fall off. His riding style required immense balance and a sensitive technique, and the boys harassing him would only add to the already high risk. He began to slip, being kicked from one side to the other, and tripping inward onto his horse's back. But suddenly, the ground began to shake. Zayn was holding on for dear life, but the strange noises halted their attacks. Something was moving at the top of the hill, and getting closer by the second. As they curved towards the left side, a large avalanche of mud, sticks, and rocks descended down upon the riders. Niall's horse was the first to panic, planting its hind legs firmly into the ground and bucking him off. The other horses although also startled by the sudden debris, were quicker to relax. The princes quickly pushed onwards, cutting through the trees and getting back onto the trail. Harry began to follow suit, but it was then that he heard shrill cries of terror coming from off the trail.

"Prince Harry please wait! I'm trapped under the rubble you have to help me!"

Niall's arm was sticking out of the pile of mud and dirt, waving frantically to get his attention. Prince Harry was stuck at an ethical crossroads. If he didn't win the race, he wouldn't be able to get the first victory he needed, but on the other hand he couldn't abandon Niall. To leave a helpless victim to their fate would be against his morals and was a disobeyment of the chivalric code. Harry dismounted and removed his riding gloves, reaching deep into the muck. With all his strength, he pulled Niall out of the landslide. Niall instinctively collapsed in his arms, coughing up bits of dirt and wiping his tears, trying desperately to regain his footing.

"Niall you're all right, but where is your horse, I don't see it?" It was true, Niall's horse had likely bolted away due to the panic.

"Don't worry, I'll take you back to the city myself." Both the princes mounted Harry's horse and began trotting back to the palace. Niall was practically coughing up a lung.

"It's gonna be a long ride," Harry thought to himself.

By the time they reached, the sun was beginning to set in the west, and many of the attendees from the morning were heading home.

Harry spotted Zayn leading his horse back to camp and approached him.

"What happened? Did you win?"