“Oh, um, hi,” Cherri said and scratched her neck while taking a few steps back. She met the archbishop’s gaze and pleaded with her eyes, but he just smirked at her and crossed his arms over his chest. She pursed her lips and glanced at her father. He had an amused expression—the same one he always had when he watched her try to lie her way out of trouble. Seeing that shit-eating grin on her father’s face made Cherri’s head throb. She stamped one hoof and faced the crowd. She shouted, fueled by the anger burning in her chest, “Today, I am overthrowing my father and taking the place of tribe leader!”

The habitat fell silent after Cherri’s voice finished echoing. Everyone was staring at the generic-looking centaur. She wasn’t old enough for her tattoos yet, and her skin color hadn’t been affected by any evolutions. “What?” Cherri shouted, flicking her tail and placing her hands on her hips. “You’re not going to greet your new leader?” There was no response. Cherri wrinkled her nose and pointed at Vasher. “Palan, teach them a lesson!”

Silence continued to pervade the habitat as a few centaurs exchanged puzzled glances. The silence was broken by Palan’s yawn. The centaurs turned to stare at the demon lying in the air beside the archbishop, balancing on his three tails with his hands behind his head. Raea sighed as she flapped her wings and hovered above him with Cory by her side. The archbishop nudged Palan’s shoulder with his elbow. “Psst. Hey,” the centaur said. “It’s your turn.”

“I don’t accept orders,” Palan said and brushed away the centaur’s arm. He crossed one leg over the other and scratched his belly.

“This is your backer?” Mathias asked Cherri. Her face paled as her shoulders slumped forward. Her vision turned blurry from the tears gathering in her eyes. She bit her lower lip to stop it from quivering and resisted the urge to sniffle. Mathias sighed and placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“What is a demon doing in our territory?” Vasher asked. The centaurs were willing to ignore Palan before, thinking he was accompanying the archbishop, but after Cherri’s outburst, they weren’t so sure of his identity. The green centaur paused before pointing at Mathias. “Has the tribe leader sent his daughter to collude with demons and angels? He knows no one within the tribe wishes to help him, so he seeks outside reinforcements? Despicable.” Vasher spat on the floor and pawed at the earth with his hoof.

The faction heads who hadn’t gathered around Vasher furrowed their brows. A few of them took steps closer to Vasher’s group, followed by their underlings. Justitia blinked and looked at the archbishop. She pinched his side, ignoring the gasps coming from the surrounding centaurs, and asked, “Hey, are centaurs xenophobic?”

The archbishop grunted. “They’re very xenophobic,” he said and nodded. “They despise outsiders and even a fractionated tribe like ours will band together to fight a perceived threat.”

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“So you wanted Cherri to become tribe leader even knowing that your tribesmen wouldn’t accept her if Palan acted as her backer?” Justitia asked.

“Oh, no,” the archbishop said and shook his head. “They’ll accept her.” The centaur glanced at Palan who yawned again. “He just has to thrash them a few times before they learn their lesson.” The archbishop paused and cleared his throat. “Which I’m sure is extremely easy for someone as powerful and majestic as him. Witnessing him beat everyone would be like watching a performance of a god fighting mere mortals.” He waited as the surrounding centaurs stared with confused faces.

“A little more,” Palan said and scratched his nose.

The archbishop rolled his eyes. “No words can describe the awe Palan brings about when he uses his powers,” he said and sighed while dropping his chin against his chest. He inhaled before straightening his back and raising his head, making eye contact with the surrounding centaurs. “You may think of him as a demon, but I know he is an embodiment of a divine being. You think him an outsider, but he is one of the very spirits we worship. Without him, we are nothing. Like a shepherd, he has chosen to guide our flock, using Cherri as an intermediary. We should thank him for his benevolence and goodwill. Come, join me in kneeling, my brethren.” The archbishop turned around and knelt before Palan, bowing his head until his forehead touched the ground.

Vasher stomped his hooves against the ground, but the archbishop acted as if he hadn’t heard. “What is this farce?” the green centaur shouted.

“Farce?” the archbishop asked as he stood up. “This is no farce. Palan is going to unify our tribe. We’ve been fractured for too long, always competing for authority over one another. Too much blood has been shed amongst ourselves when we should’ve been fighting the angels. Cherri is the perfect leader: unaffiliated with any faction, experienced in tribal matters, and she has a strong willingness to learn.”

“The church has always been separate from secular matters,” Vasher said. “Are you planning on breaking that rule now by planting your own puppet figurehead?”

“Because the church has always been separate from secular matters, I am able to see all the problems within the tribe,” the archbishop said. “Naturally, it’s my duty to fix these problems now that I’ve found a solution.”

“You came here alone,” Vasher said and narrowed his eyes. “I know how the members of the clergy fight. Your synergy with each other makes you strong. If you’re willing to interfere in our matters, what makes you think we’ll listen to you?” He addressed the centaurs surrounding himself. By now, all the faction heads had wandered to his side. “What do you plan on doing, Archbishop? If you walk away now, we can pretend this matter never happened.”

“Well,” the archbishop said and cleared his throat. “Now that you’re all bunched up, I’m just going to hide behind Palan, the mighty and magnificent and glorious and handsome and stunning and powerful benefactor.” The red centaur sidled behind Palan and pressed his hands together. A blue rope extended out of his back and wrapped around the demon’s body, melding into him.

Palan cracked his neck as he stood on his feet, his tails rising into the air. “I haven’t had a chance to experiment with my improved powers,” he said. “I guess you goats can be target practice.”