Haley withdrew her head with a yelp, but she wasn’t fast enough. Another arrow came zooming through the small crevice in the mouth of the cave, aimed directly at her face. She screamed — and at the same time a spire of rock burst from the earth in front of her, sealing off the entrance and shielding her from the arrow as the metal embedded itself in it with a loud thud. She scrambled backwards, her hands clawing through squelchy pockets of mud as she hurried deeper into the cave. Oscar awoke at last, jerking back into the land of the conscious with a pronounced start.
“Wuzzgoinon?” he said incoherently, rubbing his eyes with vigor. “The Harbingers?”
“No, not the Harbingers.” With a grunt Jon heaved the arrow from his chest. He summoned another orb of light from his hands, brightening the gloomy cave, and as visibility returned to them he saw that the arrowhead was lathered with a strange, viscous, emerald liquid. The skin where it had made contact was sizzling. “I don’t know what they are, but they’re just as annoying though.”
“They’re centaurs,” Haley said.
Jon stared at her blankly. A look of incredulity spread across her face, as if she couldn’t believe he didn’t know what she was talking about.
“You know, centaurs?” She waved her hands through the air as if she was doing some kind of bizarre charades imitation, but Jon didn’t have the slightest clue as to what she was referring to.
“Not everyone spends their free time with their noses buried in the library, you know!” he hissed.
Haley rolled her eyes. It was funny how even in times of great urgency certain aspects of her personality couldn’t be subdued.
“They’re half men, half horse hybrids from Greek myth. Wild and raunchy, very good with bows and arrows.”
“Why are they attacking us?” Oscar asked.
“No idea, but they…” Haley’s words trailed off, and none of them were left in doubt as to why. A tumultuous pounding noise had suddenly rung through the air, as if a gigantic hand had slammed an enormous hammer onto the ground just beyond the wall.
There was silence for the mere space of a heartbeat, then another huge striking noise sounded out from the wall just beside them and they backed away at once. All around them the noise was growing louder and louder. The walls were shaking as if an earthquake was passing through. Haley stifled a gasp as a huge crack split the front wall. The stomping outside was growing far more insistent; Jon could tell what was going to happen moments before it actually did.
“Get down!” he yelled, and he launched himself towards his siblings, hauling them to the ground just as the roof and walls of the cave were torn asunder.
Fragments of rock and dust rained down upon them. In moments, they were buried under a cloud of rubble. Jon raised his head, coughing, and tried to force his way upwards, blasting the more stubborn shards of rock out of the way with pulses of energy. At last he managed to force his way out and looked around: the cave had been utterly demolished. As if that wasn’t bad enough, they were completely surrounded by an army of exactly what Haley had described: half men, half horse creatures that were currently pointing a variety of weapons in their direction: spears, longswords, crude knives that looked like they were made of bone, and bows all nocked with arrows waiting to fly.
For some reason though, they weren’t firing yet. Haley and Oscar too managed to claw their way out of the rubble, their hair and faces marred with dirt. Skylar had also been buried beneath the rubble; she pushed herself out with a bray of triumph, but several of the centaurs lobbed a volley of purple-flamed torches at her feet in unison. The flames blazed furiously as they made contact and she scampered off into the trees, whinnying in terror.
As discreetly as he could Jon tried to reach towards his ring. They may have been outnumbered, but there was no way he was going to surrender quietly.
Just as he laid his finger on the glittering sapphire there was a sharp whistling sound and then his hand exploded in pain.
One of the centaurs had shot him, his arrow landing squarely in the center of his palm. Jon let out an earsplitting scream; his hand felt like it was on fire, glazed in the same slimy green liquid that burned like acid.
“Do not move. This will be your only warning.”
The voice was low and calm, yet there was a hint of menace to its tone. One of the centaurs broke from the group and came trotting forward. Another fork of lightning ripped through the sky and illuminated the scene for a brief moment under a harsh white glare. This centaur looked wilder and rougher than the others, with a bushy black beard, unkempt curly hair, and a gleaming cremello coat. He was the one who had fired, and he stood a few inches taller than the others around him.
“What do you want?” Haley burst out. “We haven’t done anything to you!”
“That is not for you to decide, girl,” said the centaur. “A criminal does not judge himself, that right goes to those he has harmed.”
“And how have we harmed you?” Oscar said in tones of incredulity.
The centaur transferred his bow to his right hand. With his left he made a wide sweeping motion at the turbulent night sky. Jon understood what he meant immediately, yet still found himself in sheer disbelief.
“We had nothing to do with that!” he said furiously. “In case you hadn’t noticed we’re camping out here because of that storm!”
“And in doing so, you have desecrated our sacred lands!” hissed the centaur standing just behind the one who had fired.
“Sacred? This is just a random forest.”
He knew the moment the words had left his mouth that he had made a grave mistake. A spasm of fury ran through the crowd. Some of them gasped, others let out savage curses, then all at once they advanced a few feet, hoisting their weapons higher and spewing threats of violence.
“Random forest? How dare you!”
“This ‘random forest’ is our home! It is the home of countless beings, magical and mundane alike! You couldn’t possibly hope to understand. This forest is brimming with power — power that people like you wouldn’t be able to feel, much less understand.”
“Just tell us what you want,” Jon said dismissively.
The centaur’s eyes narrowed.
“What we want, godling” — he said the word as if it were a slur — “is for you to stop what you have started. This storm was conjured by magic — divine magic. It is not of this world, and it is wreaking havoc upon it.”
“What are you talking about?” said Haley. Unlike Jon or Oscar, she didn’t look angry. She was genuinely confused, as if she really was interested to hear more.
“It is a waste trying to explain it to you. You have no connection to this world. You cannot feel her breath in the wind, her heartbeat through the ground, hear the words she speaks in every rustle of her leaves.”
“You can do that? As in actually do that, not just metaphorically speaking?” Haley straightened up in sincere interest, eyes widened. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, you’re nothing but a —”
“What I am is the goddess of nature,” Haley spoke over him.
“Lies!” the centaur boomed, and once again the crowd bristled, drawing their arrows even tighter, ready to let them fly at the first command.
“It’s true, I can prove it! Please, just give me a chance to show you.” She waited for their response, but they gave no reaction other than to stand in stony-faced silence. Haley chose to interpret it as a sign of assent. Very slowly, underneath the gaze of a dozen sharp, poison-tipped arrows, she held her hand over the muddy ground. Jon watched her with bated breath.
Nothing happened.
“Of course it was a lie!” one of the centaurs in the background roared. “Why would it have been anything different?”
“Haley, do something!” Oscar whispered urgently, glancing nervously at the arrow aimed at his throat. Haley scrunched up her face in deep concentration, breathing hard.
A few moments passed and when yet again nothing significant occurred, another centaur whose face was shrouded in shadow spoke in a voice of mingled rage and resignation. “This is ridiculous! Why are we wasting time on such nonsense? Sunder, I believe you should —”
He was cut off by a sudden explosion of screams and gasps. Jon too was so surprised that he jumped back with a gasp of his own; he had been expecting — or hoping rather — that something would happen, but perhaps something simple like the blooming of a flower. He had not expected vines as thick as tree trunks to erupt from the ground with the force of a battering ram, demolishing the forest floor as they wrapped themselves firmly around the gang of centaurs and effortlessly hoisted them into the air. Their screams filled the night air, almost as loud as the periodic booms of thunder.
Jon stifled a laugh. It was quite funny, seeing them dangling in midair like flags in a school courtyard, but this was neither the time nor place for that.
The rain was still hammering against them. Haley stood up, and so did Jon and Oscar. With a flourish of her hands a new wave of vines sprang from the ground, coalescing directly over their heads to form a kind of thick, greenish umbrella.
“That’s better,” said Haley. Jon glanced sideways at her and saw that she was smirking. “Now do you believe me?”
He expected to hear cries of mutiny raining down from above, but instead the centaurs fell silent. They were looking down at her with expressions of deep humility, almost reverence.
“Here’s a nice bargain for you: I can put you down and we have a civilized conversation, or I can leave you dangling here all night. What do you say?”
All eyes flicked to the centaur at the front, the one that they had called Sunder. Slowly he nodded. Haley raised her hands and made a sweeping motion towards the floor; the vines followed her movements, depositing the centaurs onto the ground and retracting smoothly into the forest floor.
“It is true then,” said Sunder, who by now Jon had identified as the centaurs’ leader. “You are a nature goddess.”
Haley nodded. To their surprise, the centaurs bowed, crossing one of their horse legs in front of the other.
“That’s really not necessary —” Haley began, suddenly looking rather awkward.
“It is an honour to have a nature goddess in our presence,” Sunder said. “We have not seen one of your kind in almost two centuries.”
“Wait, you mean centaurs can live that long?” Jon asked.
“You would be surprised. My name is Sunder. I am the chief of this tribe of centaurs and overseer of this forest. Forgive our ignorance, I fear with this meddlesome storm in effect we were unable to tell that we had a nature goddess in our midst.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Haley waved a hand carelessly. “Water under the bridge. My name is Haley, and these numbskulls are my brothers Jonathan and Oscar. We don’t know much about this storm either but we definitely didn’t cause it. A trio of dark gods attacked us earlier and it looks like they left this storm as a parting gift.”
“Dark gods?” Sunder said in a resigned tone. “I feared that might have been the case. Still, it is fortunate that you escaped.”
“Not all of us,” said Jon, gritting his teeth again. “We got separated from the rest of our family during the attack. It’s been a nightmare trying to track them in this weather. That’s why we decided to wait here for the time being.”
“I see.” The centaur reached up and scratched his beard.
“We’re sorry that we desecrated your forest,” Haley said. “That definitely wasn’t our intention, we just needed shelter.”
“It is forgiven,” Sunder said, bowing once more. Then he straightened up with a grin. “And if shelter is what you seek, then you are in luck, My Lady.”
----------------------------------------
The centaurs led them through a thick grove deep in the heart of the woods. They moved so much faster than normal horses that it was almost unreal; their hooves barely touched the forest floor, as if they were simply gliding over it instead. They didn’t even leave hoof prints behind. Jon, Haley, and Oscar followed on Skylar, who they had managed to coax out of hiding after several painstaking minutes, desperately clinging on to her as they fought to keep sight of the centaurs. The storm didn’t seem to bother them much, nor did the low light. Fortunately Skylar managed to keep pace with them, which was good because even with the ball of light hovering around them Jon lost sight of the troop of centaurs about three times before they had reached their target.
At last, Sunder and his tribe led them to the entrance of what seemed to be the centaur’s camp, which was cleverly hidden behind a waterfall. It wasn’t fun passing underneath it, but after battling the Harbingers’ freak storm it seemed a lot more manageable.
The camp was small and dingy, but there was a distinct change in the environment as they emerged on the other side of the waterfall.
The heavy rain that had been lashing them like icy whips didn’t entirely disappear, but the ferocity it had brought with it had drastically died down. It was also much brighter here, although still fairly dim. There was something else too. Jon couldn’t think of the words to describe what he was feeling, but it was almost like there was something tangible in the air that was flowing into him, revitalizing him, warming him from the chill of the storm.
“Our camp is enchanted,” said Sunder, as if he had been reading Jon’s mind. “The magic here protects us from a lot of what happens in the outside world, including weather conditions. But this storm is so powerful that our barrier is only able to lessen the impact, rather than keep it out entirely.”
Jon didn’t know much about centaurs, but it seemed this tribe consisted of only males. There were other creatures in the camp though, including some women, but unless Jon’s eyes were deceiving him they had green skin and were wearing dresses made out of leaves. As he watched, one of the women approached a nearby tree and actually melted into the bark.
“Am I crazy, or did that lady just get eaten by a tree?” Oscar asked, having been observing the same scene.
Sunder chuckled. “Mera is a wood nymph, a spirit of the forest. They can meld into nature as easily as you can breathe.”
This section of the forest was far more beautiful than any other they had seen thus far. The flowers were more vibrant, the ground was a rich brown hue, even the very air smelled cleaner. The centaurs came to another halt just outside of a small cabin. Skylar knelt low enough for them to dismount, then they looked up at the place where Sunder had brought them.
“This cabin belonged to an old friend of mine who passed some years ago. We made sure that it was kept orderly, as a way to honour him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind letting you recuperate here while we tide the storm. Please, feel free to stay as long as you wish.”
“Thank you Sunder, we really appreciate it.”
Sunder bowed. “Breakfast begins at dawn, at the sound of the first horn, down by the mess hall.” He pointed at another cabin in the distance, this one larger. “Do enjoy your stay, and let us know if you need anything.” He turned and galloped off in the opposite direction.
The doorframe was much higher than they normally were, which was a given seeing that most of the centaurs stood at around seven or eight feet. Haley turned the doorknob and they entered. The room was moderately sized, but a strong scent of wet horse lingered on the air. Apparently Sunder had forgotten to mention that centaurs didn’t need beds, because the floor was covered in a thick layer of straw, with nothing so much as a hammock to lay in.
“Comfy,” Jon said, eyeing the floor with distaste.
“Don’t complain, a few hours ago we were lying in mud,” said Haley.
“Yeah, but unlike mud straw gets everywhere. And I mean everywhere. My friends shoved me in one of the animal enclosures at the zoo once and for three days afterwards I kept finding straw in my —”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Haley said, throwing up a hand and looking repulsed.
“Pretty cool how their attitude towards you took a full 180,” Oscar said, throwing himself onto a particularly high tuft of straw. “You’re like royalty here. Who knows, we might wake up to see them building a statute in your honour. The great Lady Iduna, the first nature goddess to grace this forest in two centuries,” he said, imitating a museum curator.
“Of course they wouldn’t,” Haley said, although Jon had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t mind if they did. “Let’s just get some sleep please. A girl needs her beauty sleep. You two wouldn’t understand.”
“Because we’re boys?” Jon said, raising an eyebrow.
Haley rolled over, snuggling into the straw. “Well I was going to say because you’re hideous, but that works too.”
The next three days within the centaur’s camp passed by as if in some kind of haze. On the first day they had awoken, it was to find a gigantic, crudely designed statue of Haley erected just outside the cabin, holding one of her war fans over the lower half of her face. Haley had been totally flabbergasted, but then it was revealed as nothing more than one of Oscar’s illusions. She had been staring daggers at him when another centaur, this one much younger and more fresh-faced than the others had appeared, requesting Haley’s presence on behalf of Sunder. Jon and Oscar made to follow, but the centaur abruptly switched from a polite, slightly awkward demeanour to curt and snappish faster than Tim could cross the mansion’s living room and clarified that he meant only Haley.
For the rest of the day Jon and Oscar tried to find things to occupy them, but with no technology around it was hard to do. They had even tried to walk around camp for a bit, but clearly gods of light and illusions were far less welcome in their presence than ones of nature. Everywhere they went they received hard stares and mutters.
Shortly after midday, they decided to simply return to the cabin after Oscar tried to make small talk with one of the wood nymphs and in response she turned with a frightened expression and ran into her tree at mach speed.
Haley returned a few hours later, positively glowing. As it turned out Sunder had requested an audience with her so that she could use her powers to help restore a section of the forest that had been destroyed by a wild fire they had had a few days before. Haley hadn’t managed to repair all the damage, but she stated they had made good progress and would continue tomorrow, though it would once again be only with her. Jon and Oscar remained in that small cabin for the most part, with the few times they left being the occasions they had to find food.
It was on the return journey from one of these trips that he discovered a vast, empty field behind their small encampment. Like the entrance to the camp it was well-hidden among the dense foliage, and only by glimpsing a few centaurs disappearing into the shrubs did he find it.
The magic protecting their camp was, as Sunder explained, weakening the longer the storm remained in effect, which by now had been almost four days. Rain was creeping in; it had already begun to transition from a light drizzle into a significant squalor, but it hadn’t yet reached a point where they had to barricade themselves inside. It was on their fourth day trapped inside the camp, when Jon’s level of boredom had reached exploding point, that he decided to take a closer look at that field. He waited until the group of centaurs that he had seen disappearing through the barrier of leaves had returned, sweaty and ruddy-faced but looking highly contented, and beckoned Skylar with him.
She too had clearly been dissatisfied with being cooped up for several days, and as a particularly strong gust of wind swept across the field, Skylar nickered contentedly.
“You like that, don’t you?” Jon said, grinning and patting her head. She whinnied, pawing at the floor in excitement. Jon hoisted himself up onto her back, seized the reins extending from around her neck, and gave them a sharp jerk. She began to run, cantering forward across the grass, then their angle suddenly inclined upwards and she launched herself into the sky. It was an oddly comforting feeling, the wind and rain dappling his skin as the duo wove their way through the air.
Skylar was in her element, picking up speed as she raced around and around the field. The centaurs were incredible no doubt, but they didn’t compare to the ventus, who looped the football-field-sized pasture in mere seconds.
Again and again they rode around the field. Jon had no idea how long they had been running for: all sense of time, of worry, of anxiety about what was happening out there in that storm, had been washed out of him by the turbulent breeze. Right now it was simply him, his ventus, and the wide open sky. The longer he rode across her back the more he felt like something was tugging at his memory, grainy, half-formed images that were desperately trying to become whole. He wished he could remember her, because she clearly remembered him. The sense of familiarity emanating from her was almost palpable, and it was stronger than ever in the nights when they slept in the cabin as she curled around him, nuzzling him like a puppy.
Jon couldn’t tell what had caused it — perhaps it was the adrenaline, fueling his imagination as his blood pumped harder than ever through his veins. But completely unbidden, a new image randomly sprouted in his mind.
It was no doubt a younger Jonathan, clad in a white and gold tunic and streaking through the air upon what looked like a chibi version of Skylar. He was squealing gleefully while Skylar tried to catch several little balls of light floating ahead of them. Struck by sudden inspiration, he conjured three orbs of light that hovered just around Skylar’s head. The ventus immediately perked up. She put on a burst of speed so great that Jon almost went tumbling off; he had to tighten his grip tenfold on the reins just to stay astride her saddle, and yet he was laughing harder than he had in the last few days.
Jon let out a shout of mirth as the ventus bobbed from side to side, trying to swallow the balls of light bobbing ahead of them, and each time she got close Jon sent them rocketing out of the way as if they were live prey, trying to dodge a predator.
For several minutes they continued like this. He was having too much fun to keep track of the exact timeframe, but by the time they were done — when Skylar had finally succeeded in swallowing one of the balls — he was feeling far better than he had since they had first touched down in this forest. The fact that the storm was slowly worsening, the worry of what had become of Tim and Lauren — all of it had been washed away for a few glorious minutes.
Panting heavily, Jon slid to the ground, patting Skylar’s head.
“I bet we had a lot of fun when we were younger, didn’t we?”
She could not speak, but he understood her answer perfectly as she nuzzled his hand.
“That is quite the steed you’ve got there,” said a voice, jerking him out of his reverie. Jon looked around and for the first time since they had set foot in this camp, he saw a centaur that actually looked close in age to himself. Perhaps a few years older, but definitely closer than any other. Unlike the rest of the centaurs, this one wasn’t bare-chested, but instead wore a fuzzy black, sleeveless vest and instead of the scraggly beard he sported a neat line of scruff.
“So she is,” Jon said, casting him a rather curious look.
The centaur smiled awkwardly. “Ah, you have no idea who I am. My apologies, my name is Roanoke. I usually come here in the evenings when my brethren have already gone on their run; I prefer to run alone. If you don’t mind my asking, what is it you meant by your last statement? I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but from an outside perspective it is kind of an odd thought.”
“It’s a long story.” Jon sighed. “But the cliffnotes version of it is my siblings and I had our memories wiped when we were very young, as a way of keeping us safe from the gods who attacked us before. The process was never undone, so our past is still one big mystery to us.”
“That… that sounds awful.”
“It’s not so bad.”
“You may think so, but one thing I’ve noticed over the years is that a lot of people spend their time looking to the future but completely overlooking the past. Yes, the future is important, but our past experiences are what have shaped us into the people we are now. You may say it’s not so bad, but that could simply be because you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I mean I’ve thought about it. But I don’t think it’s the same for us. Sure, we have a lot buried in those five years that we lost, but it’s not like we’re blank slates. We still lived through our own childhoods, we’ve all had plenty of other experiences that shaped us.”
Roanoke smiled. “Well, who am I to pretend that I know better than you? I did want to apologize though, for the behaviour that you received in your time here. Your sister is a nature goddess, so naturally my people, who have a very strong connection to the earth, will be drawn more to her. But you and your brother are still very respected amongst my kind. Light is just as important as nature, after all. Without it, nature cannot thrive. You are essential, to both your world and mine.”
Jon heaved a deep sigh. “That’s a nice thought, but these days it’s not easy to think like that.”
Roanoke frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Have you looked around recently? It’s hard to think of yourself as essential when everywhere you turn is pitch-black and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“On the contrary, now is the time you’re needed most of all,” said Roanoke, looking shocked. “The darkness is immense, no one can deny, but at the end of the day light is what people need to guide them through it. This storm, and perhaps your situation as well, are admittedly bleak. But this isn’t the first storm this world has had to weather, nor will it be its last. Yet no matter what happens or how long it may go on, it must pass — it will pass — and the sun will shine again.”
Jon remained silent for a long moment, staring into his earnest face. He didn't fully agree with the centaur's perspective, but he couldn't find it in himself to argue. “You know, you’re pretty wise for a teenager,” he said at last.
“Thank you,” said Roanoke. “But I’m not really a teenager.”
“How old are you then?”
“Sixty-five,” Roanoke said simply. “Us centaurs age rather slowly.”
Jon gaped at him, utterly taken aback.
“But anyway, I do hope what I said is of some use to you in the future. Never lose sight of your inner light. In times of need that spark can burn brighter than even Venus herself.” He nodded, then he cantered away across the darkening slope.