An Identity Lost And Found Legendary Fable Told In The Third Person

A crisp autumn breeze cooled temperatures on a classic fall day allowing young gentlemen Tapatybe to take his favorite steed out for a trail ride, experience the beautiful woods before the wintry bitter cold decides to take control. Way off in the distance near the border crackling noises snapped and the bothersome sound kept the peaceful individual from leaving the property he owned, only miles from the treacherous combative zone.

Putting on the proper recreational trail riding equestrian attire Tapatybe walked out to the barn, grabbed all the tack needed for a peaceful relaxing journey. “That noise is getting closer,” the affluent aristocrat murmured throwing the saddle onto his beautiful partner he called ‘Identity’.

Guiding the equine friend over towards his favorite mounting area, featuring a wooden stomp once attached to the family’s decorated Christmas tree, Tapatybe recalled that holiday like it was yesterday.

Gracefully, boarding his four-legged transportation, the well-educated rider softly kicked, requesting a walk as the firecracker noise started getting louder. “I have to do this,” Tapatybe continued convincing himself the decision was thought through properly.

Venturing down the path that his descendent created decades ago, the refreshing journey now was engulfed with birds chirping and branches playing like instruments fiddling the wind around while gusty notes serenaded the outdoor theater.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happened, instantly transitioning nature’s orchestra from entertaining to horrific as the tricky trees defended themselves from destruction.

Apparently, a sonic boom cued ‘Identity’ to rear up on his hind legs and falling backwards using Tapatybe as a cushion. Lying helplessly unconscious, ‘Identity’ left his rider and disappeared, a fearful look in the eye sent a haunting message.

A week passed and Tapatybe’s nurse came into his hospital room, “you had a horse-riding accident, and it has been nearly seven days,” the nurse explained.

“I do not know who I am,” Tapatybe whispered, “I feel like I lost my identity.”

“You did,” the nurse honestly answered, “no one could find him, he spooked and bolted the whole scene, probably headed straight towards the battlefield.”

“Identity! Why?” Tapatybe cried.

“Close your eyes and rest,” the nurse suggested and Tapatybe returned to dreamless darkness.

Christmas Eve arrived and Tapatybe sat in a wheelchair trying to recount things, staring at the different traditional symbolic ornaments that temporarily resided inside the garland flooded festive fixture.

“Tapatybe,” his sister called.

“Do you want to come to the table and enjoy the feast, I can wheel you over,”

“I would like that,” Tapatybe answered thinking he met the girl recently.

Surrounded by family they all enjoyed the trimmings, laughing and telling stories hoping that Tapatybe’s identity would return.

When all the dishes needed cleaning, Tabatybe pushed back his chair, “excuse me Miss?” He politely requested.

“My name is not Miss, its Prisiminti,” his sister paused, “remember.”

Looking down displaying a sorrowful expression, Tabatybe continued, “could you roll me out onto the porch?”

“But it’s freezing outside,” Prisiminti stated, “wouldn’t it be better by the fire? There is a window,”

“No, I would rather go to the porch,”

Not arguing, Prisiminti gathered her jacket and pushed Tabatybe outside and sat on the neighboring bench as her brother gazed seeing the brown paper bags with candles, proclaiming a welcoming gesture.

“Do you think our evil antagonist is going to show up and wish us good cheer?”

Tabatybe remained silent until the moonlight shined an incoming visitor.

Quickly reaching for the binoculars quietly occupying table space, Prisiminti, spotted the intruder, “It’s Identity!” She screamed, “he is home.”

“My identity has come back?” Tabatybe replied.

“Yes, my brother,” Prisiminiti screamed, “your identity is here.”

“Why don’t we go to the barn and make sure his bed is warm,” Tabatybe suggested and Prisiminti followed orders taking the pair inside the stable.

As the legend goes, when the midnight hour arrived ‘Identity’ spoke to the two of them and divulged all the enemies’ secrets, allowing Tabatybe and Prisiminti’s country to win the war. And for being a good spy they gave ‘Identity’ a full apple Christmas Day basket then wished him season’s greetings along with happy new year.