Heart of a Monster

Loud creaking could be heard as the man pushed open the front door to his home. Graying black hair on his head and in his stubble along with the beginnings of wrinkles around his blue eyes indicated that the man had age on him. He was dressed in a red, flannel button-up, jeans, and leather boots. As he walked onto his front porch, he took a quick glance at his surroundings. The sky was still dark as the sun was just making its way above the trees on the horizon. Sheep were both sleeping and grazing in a nearby pasture and the man surveyed his garden before descending from his porch. He deeply inhaled the cool morning air and then exhaled, feeling somewhat refreshed.

“How that girl does it, I’ll never understand,” he said aloud to himself, his eyes fixed on the barn just twenty meters from his front porch steps. Heaving a sigh, the man walked toward the faded red painted barn, passing a small groundwater well which was nearly overflowing. Once he had reached the door to the barn, he pulled the door open internally remarking how he has said numerous times to lock the barn door at night.

“Aridean, you need to get up or you’re going to be late,” the man called into the barn. However, no response was heard as the barn seemed devoid of anyone save two sheep and a lamb who had started bleating as the man entered. Ropes were hung on wall hooks and most stalls were empty as most of the flock were out in the pasture. A workbench in the corner to the left of the door also held a toolbox with many well-used tools, most notably sheep shears of varying sizes. Bales of hay were stacked near the back of the barn, as were bags. Some bags were empty, some were full of wool, but all were kept in a neat working space near the back of the barn. Wooden beams were set in place to support the roof, but one was strangely wrapped in some cloth. Lastly, there was a wooden ladder in the barn that led to the loft just above where the man stood.

After waiting a moment for any response to his previous announcement, the man called again, “Aridean, wake up!”

This time, a response was given in the form a black cat jumping down the ladder from the loft. This cat, however, was missing its rear left leg, but still managed its way down the ladder with ease. Once on the ground, the cat hobbled over to the man’s feet, where it sat and looked up at him; the cat gave a yowl as though to say good morning.

“There you are Mott, so she’s up there then,” the man said to the cat. Another yowl from the cat sounded in affirmation and the man heaved another sigh. He made his way over to the ladder and began making his way up to the loft of his barn as the cat left through the barn door. Creaking sounds could be heard coming from the old wood as the man ascended.

Having reached the barn loft, the man found a mass laying in the center space. The mass, covered by a thick quilted blanket, slowly and rhythmically pulsed up and down as a quiet snoring sound could be heard with every pulse. The man stood up from the ladder and approached the mass on the loft floor before him. Standing over it, he folded his arms and spoke, “Aridean, you do know you have a bed in the house you could sleep in.”

At once, the snoring had ceased and the mass before the man had begun to move. The quilt was pushed away to reveal an unexpected sight. The person under the quilt was covered in short light-brown fur and atop her head were long horns and a long mane. Her face resembled that of a bovine’s, having both large nostrils and a long snout. Furthermore, she had a long thin tail with a switch on the end and a pair of long legs with stifle knees that ended with hooves instead of feet. She was dressed in a white, woolen button-up and heavily knitted cotton pants. Aridean was not a human, but a minotaur.

“Good morning, father,” Aridean said to the man, wiping the sleep from her eyes. When she opened them again, the man could see his reflection in her brown eyes. She stood a full foot over the man who must have been at least six feet tall.

“In Minoran,” the man said immediately following the greeting.

“Ghos nion, Paur,” Aridean repeated, in the language known as Minoran, native tongue to the minotaur people.

“You need to be quick about getting ready this morning, you don’t want to be late for work,” the man said with a stern tone and tired expression on his face. He turned toward the ladder and began walking.

“I know, sorry, father,” Aridean replied with a yawn. She watched as the man descended from the loft. The minotaur stood for a moment before deeply inhaling while stretching her arms slightly backward and up over her head; from ground to the tip of her fingers was probably eight and a half feet. Exhaling, Aridean then stretched forward and reached for her hooves.

“I’ve already drawn a bath and I’ll have breakfast ready in just a little bit,” the man called from the bottom of the ladder. Aridean smiled as she stood back up and began to walk toward the loft ladder. Rather than descending from the ladder, she sat on the edge of the loft with her hooves hanging in the air. Twisting and pushing off, she turned around as though she was going to grab the ladder but held onto the edge of the loft as she fell. Aridean hung from the loft for just a second before dropping to the ground, which given her height was only about a foot from her suspended position.

“I’ll make it quick before heading in,” Aridean said to herself as the man had already left the barn. She turned around and walked toward the support beam which was wrapped in cloth. Attempting to psych herself up, she spoke, “Gonna break one-forty-six today! Let’s do it!”

Aridean stretched her arms out above her head toward the beam and jumped. After she grabbed the beam and suspended herself in the air, she adjusted her grip for comfort. Once in a suitable position, Aridean began to pull herself up toward the beam. Although her arms were not exactly thick, it was clear that they had serious muscle to them. With her chin above the beam, she counted, “one!”

The minotaur slowly lowered herself to her starting position before repeating the exercise. Her counting continued, but gradually began to slow as Aridean became more and more tired. By one hundred twenty, she was taking ten second breaks between pulls with heavy panting. Determined to at least make one-thirty, Aridean persevered and pushed her worn out arms to pull her just a few more times.

“Come on! One-thirty-nine!” Aridean said, chin just barely above the beam this time. Despite the screaming muscles, Aridean forced one more pull and had to arc her chin upwards to make it above the beam. With that, she dropped from the beam with her tired arms falling towards the ground. She felt like the blood in them had been replaced with sand with how heavy and numb they were.

“So close… and I don’t think I should count that last one either,” Aridean said aloud, still panting from the intense workout. “Well, I shouldn’t keep father waiting any longer.”

The minotaur turned on her hooves and began walking for the barn door, stopping only to pet the lamb that had been watching her. Exiting the barn, she felt the rush of cool air blow past her; mane and tail flowing in the wind. Before making her way to the farmhouse, Aridean stopped by the well and dipped her hands into the cold water. Cupping some of the cool liquid in her hands, she pulled back and splashed water in her face to help her cool down. With a sufficiently soaked face, the minotaur walked to the farmhouse. Wooden steps leading to the porch creaked somewhat underneath her hooves. Aridean opened the door to the house and entered the front room, but not before bending over somewhat to avoid hitting her head on the door frame.

Wooden flooring, a simple rug in front of a stone fireplace, and plain furniture decorated the rustic abode. There was a hallway in the back of the room which lead to the bedrooms and restroom. Windows allowed natural light to illuminate the room. Their front room served as not only a living room, but kitchen and dining room as well. Aridean’s father stood by the stove with strips of bacon sizzling in a pan. Kitchen space was tightly packed in the corner immediately to the right of the front door. Much of the counter space had been taken up by an assortment of fruits and vegetables as well as some cutlery. A small dining room table, which would only comfortably seat two sat between the kitchen space and the back wall. Beneath the table sat Mott, chewing on a small piece of bacon that Aridean’s father must have thrown to her. In the living space was a coffee table with a chess set and some books stacked on top. Wooden chairs with padded cushions in the seats sat on each end of the table. These chairs and the table sat before a moderately sized stone fireplace which had some interesting decor: a great axe of unique design crossed by a longsword of similar intrigue.

“Breakfast will only be a few minutes, but you should go ahead and wash up,” Aridean’s father said without taking his focus off the food he was preparing.

“Yes, I’ll only be a few moments,” Aridean replied before excusing herself to her room. Again, she bent over to pass through the door. Inside, there was an exceptionally large bed which had been well made with a nightstand at the head of the bed. There was also a small cushion on the floor by the head of the bed which served as Mott’s bed. A window above the bed gave way to a nice view of the pasture behind the farmhouse. There was a small chest at the end of the bed which contained an assortment of children’s toys; it was not actually Aridean’s decision to leave them, but she did not mind keeping them. The bedroom also had a dresser sitting across from the bed and a full body mirror just beside said dresser. Aridean made her way over to the dresser and pulled open one of the drawers to collect a fresh set of clothes for her day. With everything she needed, she made for the restroom for a quick bath.

In the restroom, Aridean began undressing. Brown fur covered just about every inch of her legs, arms, chest, and stomach. However, on her back were three streaks of white fur that looked as though something had clawed the brown color off her back. Aridean slowly slipped into the warm water in the tub. Between her warm fur and the warm water, she felt like she could slip back into a comfortable sleep. Against what she wanted to do, Aridean quickly cleaned herself in the bath and silently fumed about not having time to relax longer. After finishing and drying herself, she redressed in a hurry and tossed the previous day’s attire into a clothes hamper by the restroom door. She exited the restroom and moved back into the front room. Almost ready for the new day, Aridean sat at the dinner table as her father brought her a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast with a grape jelly smeared across the surface.

“Thank you for breakfast, father,” Aridean spoke cordially, grabbing a forkful of eggs from her plate. Her father sat across from her and silently ate his breakfast. As the pair finished their meal, Aridean’s father began to speak.

“You’ll be home with plenty of light left, right?” the man said with a stern tone in his voice.

“Of course, father. I don’t know of anything that would keep me,” Aridean replied, her tone sounded sweet and innocent. “I should be going. Thank you again.”

Aridean stood from the table, pushed in her chair, and moved her plate and utensils to the kitchen sink. She then grabbed a backpack sitting by the front door and slung it over her arms and onto her back. Opening the door, Aridean could hear her father blow a heavy sigh. She was used to the man being quiet and strict with her, but something about his attitude seemed just a bit more solemn than usual. She hesitantly turned to half face her stone-still father, still sitting at the table with just a few bites of eggs and toast left.

“H-happy birthday, father,” she said before leaving the farmhouse. The man looked to the door as the minotaur exited and then shut it behind her. Certain that he was alone now, the man’s head fell into an open hand.

“Dammit, of all the days to be like that…,” he quietly muttered to himself.

Outside, Aridean descended the front porch steps and began walking toward the dirt road. Far down the east route was the capitol city, to which Aridean had never been before. Her father had told her it was nothing special, but she couldn’t shake the curious desire to visit one day. Regardless, Aridean had started walking the west route to the nearby village of Thellia. Her farmhouse grew smaller and smaller in the distance behind her as she passed through the clear countryside. Normally, she would entertain herself by daydreaming what it would be like to travel to different places throughout the world that she had learned about in school, but her father’s somber demeanor today had her a bit worried. Had something happened? Was she in trouble?

Still worried, as Aridean reached the top of a hill, she was passed by a horse-drawn wagon. Aridean kept her head down and avoided eye contact with the driver and passengers but could feel them glaring. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the passengers or the wagon; they were just average people. No fine clothes or anything to display wealth or status, nothing to give any ‘better-than-you’ vibes. Regardless, they angrily glared at the minotaur walking past them. Aridean was almost sure she heard one spit in her direction. After the carriage had passed, Aridean stopped and shivered a little as a cool breeze blew past.

I can’t help it… I can’t do anything about it, she thought to herself. Still staring at her hooves, she shook her head and continued toward her destination. Eventually, the village came into view over the horizon and as it drew closer and closer Aridean kept reminding herself that it was just another day: go in, take care of business, and get home. Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep telling herself that as she had planned to find something nice from the marketplace for her father as a birthday present. That was the part of the day she was dreading the most. About another half mile to the first building in the village, Aridean began walking past a short stone wall.

“What exactly should I go looking for? A new hat? A watch? He did break a hoe the other day while tending the garden, I want something he’s sure to use at least…” her mind began to wander, which helped alleviate her nerves a bit. Nearing a side road, the stone wall was cut off and out from behind it jumped a slim, young man dressed in neat, clean clothes.

“Halt, minotaur! State your business in my kingdom!” the young man exclaimed. Aridean initially jumped back, startled by the sudden interruption in her gift planning. After collecting herself, she chuckled a bit.

“Good morning, Jean,” Aridean responded to the young man.

“That’s KING Jean Hallon, minotaur!” Jean said, cracking up into laughter halfway through his own name. He had his hands on his hips with his head held high, posing like some kind of superhero. Jean had been Aridean’s friend since she started school. He normally met her on her way into the village, often with some sort of charade like his current act.

“Forgive me, my liege,” Aridean replied with a bow.

“Heh, I haven’t gotten you to jump like that in a while. Anyway, morning, Ari,” Jean said having dropped the whole ‘King Jean’ shtick. “I guess you’re headed to work then?”

“Yes, I’m hoping to get enough money today to buy father a nice birthday gift,” Aridean replied as the two began walking into the village.

“You know I don’t mind loaning you some money if you need it,” Jean offered.

“I appreciate it, but you know I don’t want to be a bother. Besides, what would your mother or father say if they found out you loaned me anything?” Aridean said.

“Hey, they wouldn’t care so long as I got it back eventually… well, they’d probably be okay with it… after a while,” Jean, unconvincingly, tried to assure Aridean.

“Even so, thank you, but I’ve got things under control. But could I ask you to meet me at the general store this afternoon?” Aridean asked her friend.

Jean thought for a second before replying, “I don’t mind, but you don’t want to try going by yourself? I know it makes you uneasy, but it’s not gonna get any easier if you keep having me drag you around town.”

The pair had come to the first building in the village and Jean walked just ahead of Aridean, who had stopped a few feet behind him.

“I-I know, but I don’t think I’m ready to go alone just yet,” Aridean said smiling nervously at Jean. Jean rolled his eyes and shrugged. This was not the first time he had encouraged her to go herself, but he knew fighting her on it would go nowhere.

“If you say so, I’ll see you there after you get off work,” Jean said, turning his back to Aridean and waving his hand goodbye.

“Thanks, Jean,” spoke Aridean despite Jean having already walked out of earshot. “Now I need to get to work.”

Aridean walked around the building she had stopped in front of and around the village itself. She could hear villagers conversing about their days, gossiping about silly rumors and news, and could also smell some lovely treats from the local bakery. Aridean eventually came up on the rear entrance to her place of work: Mutt’s Tavern. One of the more popular establishments in the village for food or drink, the tavern had been one of the first buildings constructed when the village first started growing. However, recent business had been rather slow. Aridean entered through the back door into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by her boss.

“Gray! Get an apron on and take this order to the elves at table four!” came the commanding voice of the restaurant’s owner, George Yeomen. Given his role as owner of Mutt’s Tavern, George had picked up the nickname “Mutt” when he inherited the tavern. His kitchen consisted of several stoves lined up against a wall, two large sinks (one being filled with dirty dishes), multiple kegs and drink containers, plenty of counterspace covered by ingredients and cutlery, and a large clock above the rear door. There was also a closet containing mostly cleaning supplies by the door leading to the dining room. Apart from George and Aridean, other employees included George’s two sons: Roan and Andrew. However, Aridean rarely spoke to them about anything unrelated to work.

“Y-yes sir!” Aridean called back, quickly removing her bag from her back and procuring her waitress apron from it. In her rush, she struggled with the neck loop getting caught on her horns but eventually managed to get the apron on right. Ready to begin her duties, she rushed the meals her employer had prepared out the kitchen door and made her way through a quaint dining room. Modest wooden furniture, a clean but faded paint job on the walls, and a floor that was anything but clean; that was about all there was to Mutt’s Tavern. She found her customers waiting at a table near the front door.

“Sorry for the delay, here are your meals,” Aridean said, carefully setting plates upon the table before her.

“Thanks,” said one of the two elves, disinterestedly. Aridean didn’t mind it though, frankly she even preferred that treatment.

Always do prefer the elven and dwarven customers… well, until the dwarves have a little too much to drink, Aridean thought to herself. She returned to the kitchen to start work on the dishes in the overloaded sink. Dish work was often interrupted by the need to run more dishes to customers or bus tables. Aridean wished she could be the one behind the stove, away from the staring and glaring of customers in the dining room. Even Aridean knew that wouldn’t work though as she was not the best when it came to cooking. Further, on her first day George had made it abundantly clear that there would be no fur in any of the dishes or else. Regardless, Aridean actually enjoyed working at the tavern, despite her circumstances surrounding the job.

After several hours, the kitchen clock read one-thirty. Mutt’s Tavern was only open until two due to reduced business. Aridean collected a mop and bucket from the supply closet. After filling her bucket with some water and soap, the waitress moved into the dining room and began with mopping up a spilled beer. She was slow and thorough; George was sure to let her know if she missed a spot, and she couldn’t afford to have him upset today. About half-way through the mopping, Aridean heard the front door open as a customer must have been entering. Given that the tavern was nearing closing time, she simply kept her back turned as she would have avoided eye contact regardless.

“Excuse me, could I just get something to go?” the customer’s voice spoke softly. Aridean turned to face the customer and was startled by the sight. Shocked, she took a moment to register that the customer was not one of the usual visitors; he was a fellow minotaur. Large, intimidating horns on his head, black fur all over save the white patch on the bridge of his snout, and a tail that swayed back and forth; he had all the makings of a minotaur. Dressed in a light brown vest and pants with a dark-green cloak over his shoulders, Aridean was simply at a loss for words. This was the first of her own race she had ever spoken to. Oddly enough, the minotaur seemed somewhat surprised to see Aridean as he followed his previous statement with, “Oh…”

“Uhm, I, uh, something to go? Uhm, y-yes, what would you like?” Aridean replied nervously, her grip on her mop grew tighter and she herself shook somewhat.

“Uhm… just some sausage and bread,” the minotaur answered, still using the same soft tone of voice as he had originally. Initial shock had left her customer, but Aridean was still processing the encounter.

“Of course, p-please, just one moment,” Aridean said, directing him to a table. She then made for the kitchen, bringing her mop and bucket with her. Having put her cleaning supplies back in the closet, Aridean got the bread and a small bag before her boss took notice.

“Gray? It’s about closing time, what are you doing?” the tavern owner asked sternly.

“We have a to-go order waiting: sausage and bread, sir,” Aridean answered.

“A to-go this late? Everyone in Thellia knows we start closing around now. Who’s out there?” George said, making his way to the dining room door. He looked out into the room and saw a mostly empty restaurant, save Aridean’s customer. Aridean grew worried, she wasn’t sure how George would react to finding out who she was serving. Would he be upset with her? Was she going to be yelled at again?

“Ugh, damn,” George muttered, quiet enough that only Aridean could hear him. “Just make sure he pays up.”

“Oh, y-yes, of course, sir,” Aridean replied, somewhat confused. She was sure that not only would George yell at her, but at the unusual customer as well. But upon reflection, George had often times defied her typical expectations of bitterness with begrudging tolerance. With her boss’s approval, Aridean then collected some spare sausage and put it in the bag with the bread. Before making her way back out, she took a moment to think about how her first interaction with someone from her own race was about how she would serve them sausage and bread. Most would probably find it mundane or even comical, but Aridean began to shake with anxiety. She shook so much that she could hear Roan and Andrew whispering about how the hairs on her tail were starting to stand up.

He’s a minotaur like me, so why do I feel… scared trying to talk to him? Aridean thought, unable to control her shaking body.

“Gray, take that order to that one and get him out of here, we’re just about done for the day,” George ordered, snapping Aridean back to reality.

With a silent nod, Aridean took the bagged meal out into the dining room. She crossed the almost empty restaurant and stood before the minotaur.

“Here you are,” she said, avoiding eye contact and extending the bag to her customer.

“Thanks, kind of surprised I got service in this village,” the minotaur replied with a smile. He then pulled a small coin pouch out of one of his pockets. The minotaur laid a fistful of eight copper coins on the table and accepted the bag from Aridean. He then turned and made his way to the door. Standing at the front door, the male minotaur turned to look at Aridean one more time. He caught that she was actually looking him in the face now and he gave a friendly smile before leaving. Aridean just stood at the table for what felt like an hour before pulling herself together. In a hurry, she collected the coins from the final customer and returned to the kitchen to deliver the payment to George.

“Actually paid up, huh? Good, just hope he doesn’t make this place a regular stop. One’s been bad enough for business,” George said aloud, counting the coins. He then pulled a small lock box from under a counter and set it on some free counterspace. Using a key he kept wrapped around his wrist, George opened his lock box and counted twenty copper coins.

“Here’s your pay for today, Gray,” George said. Aridean counted the coin after removing her apron and stuffing it back into her bag. She felt a bit disappointed, hoping that he would award her a little more.

“S-sir, do you think… would it be…” Aridean hesitantly started.

“What? You want more? Gray, you should count yourself lucky you’re getting that. If I didn’t owe Simon, I’d consider firing you now,” George said, clearly aware of what Aridean was trying to ask. Having threatened her employment and mentioning her father, Aridean quickly resolved not to ask any further for any raise.

“Y-yes, I’m sorry sir,” Aridean said, head hanging low or at least as low as a seven-foot-tall minotaur could hang their head. She merely collected her bag and pay, thanked George for the coin, and left Mutt’s Tavern. With a disappointed sigh, Aridean began making her way toward the marketplace.

Mostly wooden buildings with signs stating what the stores held within all up and down the dirt street. Many patrons moved about from store to store, gathering groceries or other supplies. Aridean watched as people walked around the marketplace from behind the general store at the end of the road. She felt incredibly nervous and wondered if her customer from earlier was around somewhere. If that were the case, what would these people think of him? She feared that they would treat him the same, or even worse knowing that there were two minotaurs running around the village.

“Sorry to keep you waiting! Ready to go birthday present shopping?” came Jean’s familiar voice from behind. Startled, Aridean’s entire body seized up for a second as she nearly fell over. It was typical of Jean to sneak up on her like this, but rarely did he ever get a reaction like that.

“Ari? Two scares in one day? You are feeling okay, right?” Jean asked, half-concerned and half-jokingly. Aridean composed herself after the sudden raise in heart rate.

“Yes, sorry Jean, today was… just a little weird,” Aridean responded. Jean chuckled a little.

“You don’t have to apologize for me scaring you. Also, my day was a bit different, too. I met someone who I think you’d like. You don’t have work tomorrow, right? I’ll introduce you to him later,” Jean said as he ushered Aridean into the marketplace. “So, you ever figure out what you wanted to get Mr. Gray for his birthday?”

“Well, I have some ideas, but I really don’t know. I really didn’t make as much as I had hoped today at work and I don’t have much else saved up,” Aridean said, closely following Jean into the crowd. She had been considering all sorts of gifts for her father all through work but couldn’t decide on anything.

“Well, that’s okay, we’ve got time to check out some stores. I’ve heard good things about the nick-nack store by the bakery,” Jean said, pointing towards a store whose sign read ‘Antique Collections’. Aridean simply nodded and followed her friend to the store.

Inside the shop, there were shelves, racks, and tables lined with all sorts of expensive and cheap looking items. A musty smell lingered in the warm air of the store front. Only one other person occupied the store apart from Aridean and Jean: a clerk sitting behind a counter on the other end of the room reading a newspaper. With a single look at Aridean, the clerk scowled and returned to his newspaper.

“Well, let’s get looking,” Jean said enthusiastically with a wide smile on his face. Something told Aridean he was just looking for an excuse to look through collections of various junk. Without another word, Jean began inspecting a counter lined with small ceramic sculptures.

“Wow, look at the detail on these, Ari! I wish my tools were half as well made to be able to make something this defined. The color combination is so cool, too!” Jean said, inspecting a sculpture of fish jumping from a stream. Aridean was glad Jean was happy but was not interested in the sculptures. She wanted to look for something she thought her father would enjoy.

“Oh, right, admire the artwork later, we’re here for a reason. Well, what about one of these replica swords? Wasn’t Mr. Gray a part of the military for a time?” Jean asked while carefully holding a replica sword he found on a nearby rack.

“I don’t know if father would like that, he doesn’t talk much about his time in the military. Besides, you really think I could afford one of those?” Aridean replied to her overly excited friend. It was true that her father was a high-ranking officer in the military for a time, but he rarely spoke on it. If Aridean ever asked about his military career, he would deflect any questions with the same ‘that was a long time ago’ bit.

“Well, okay then. Hmm, there’s still a lot left here, but if you want to check out a different store, we could do that too,” Jean said not even trying to hide the fact his attention had returned to the ceramic sculptures on display. Aridean decided to walk through the store and look at the amenities it held a bit more. Her hooves clopped against the old wood floor of the shop loudly as she moved from table to table. She doubted she’d be able to find a replacement for her father’s broken gardening hoe in a store like this. Monocles, canes, teacups, and more arts and craft projects were all she seemed to find. Aridean had come across a small selection of hats that she considered. She had even gone so far as to try on a straw hat and a bucket hat. Unfortunately, having a head with horns made wearing the made-for-humans hats difficult to balance properly. Regardless, they did not seem like suitable gifts.

There was also an interesting selection of old maps, a few compasses, and even a globe that Aridean took the time to study. Many of the maps she surveyed missed some towns that Aridean was aware of from old maps her father had. She assumed they were just older versions of the empire’s territory. Aridean had further found herself absolutely entranced by the globe, spying all sorts of far-off lands she could only imagine visiting one day. From the snow-covered mountains of Drovania to the endless desert dunes of Voxun, Aridean toyed with the idea that she was already planning her own little expedition into some territories beyond the reach of the empire.

Nearing the check-out counter, Aridean noticed a table with some shining jewelry on it. With a bit of curiosity, she drew closer to the table and surveyed the items it held with interest. One she found particularly intriguing was a copper locket with a silver lining. Inside the locket was empty space for a loved one’s picture. Aridean could not take her eyes off the locket; it wasn’t a new tool or anything with any particular use, but Aridean was sure she wanted this to be the gift she gave her father.

“Fifty copper pieces, hooves,” said the clerk from behind the counter, never having taken his eyes from his newspaper. With surprise in her eyes, Aridean immediately rummaged through her bag to find her coin pouch. Along with today’s pay, Aridean frantically began counting the copper pieces within, setting aside the counted ones into a pile on the jewelry table.

“Forty-eight… is that all I have? I was sure I had just a little more than that,” Aridean said disappointedly and shaking her coin pouch as though it would materialize more copper coins. Jean, who had snuck up behind Aridean, began whistling and dropped two extra copper coins onto the small pile Aridean had built up. Shocked, Aridean turned, mouth agape, to her generous friend who simply winked and returned to his sculptures yet again. Positively beaming, Aridean scooped up the coins and locket and moved to the check-out counter.

“You really want that? Eh, I’m in no position to turn away business. Coin is coin,” the clerk said, taking the large mound of coins Aridean had piled up before him. After counting the coins and accepting Aridean’s payment, he spoke, “Now if you’re done, could I ask you two to leave? That clopping on my floor is distracting.”

Outside the store, Aridean continued to admire the locket with unbridled excitement. Jean walked alongside her, quiet yet happy for Aridean. The two made their way out of the marketplace, passing the bakery and the blacksmith. Aridean was so invested in the gift for her father that she hadn’t even noticed she walked with Jean down the main road of the village. Many of the villagers had chosen to ignore the minotaur anyway, the few that didn’t were scowling toward Aridean who had not registered their presence.

“Jean, I can’t thank you enough for this,” Aridean finally spoke after the initial wonder wore off.

“Ari, it was just two copper pieces. I’m sure you would have done the same for me,” Jean replied nonchalantly. Aridean gave her friend a grateful hug as the two began to exit the village. She had lifted Jean off his feet in a bit of a bear hug he could not reciprocate as Aridean had bound his arms to his sides. Once released, he simply nudged his minotaur friend with his elbow.

“Well, it isn’t going to be of any use to him, but I really hope he likes it,” Aridean began to say.

“I’m sure he’s gonna love it,” Jean assured her. The two continued on their way out of the village the same way they came in, on a long dirt road with clear countryside to both sides of the road. Despite the unusual and disappointing workday, Aridean’s mood had dramatically improved. Nearing the fork in the road that Jean had met Aridean before, however, stood some familiar faces. Three boys in matching blue jackets were waiting for the pair to show up, standing at the short stone wall that Jean had jumped out at Aridean from.

“Well, well, how’s it going cowgirl?” came a mocking voice from the group of boys before Aridean and Jean. Upon registering who had addressed them, Aridean’s face immediately filled with an anxious expression. Jean had taken notice of this and began to grin.

“How you doing, Reil?” Jean said, maintaining his usual carefree and playful attitude. He took a step forward, putting himself between Aridean and the three boys. These boys had been long time bullies for Aridean, and she was terrified by the mere sight of the gang. Reil Long and his friends, Hark and Bud, seemed to derive never-ending joy out of ‘teasing’ Aridean. Teasing typically included insults and laughing at her mistakes, but on occasion it would escalate to actual pranks that at one time ended with Aridean nearly breaking her arm.

“Doing fine, Farmhand J. You having to play the knight in shining armor again? Don’t you ever get sick of it? It’s not like you owe her or anything. Let her stand up for herself,” Reil replied.

“You want me to back down from being her knight? I’m not standing between you and her. I’m standing between her and you! Ari doesn’t need any protection from you guys, quite the opposite. If I were you, I’d be careful about messing with someone who could throw me thirty yards without breaking a sweat!” Jean said, Aridean’s face grew visibly more anxious.

“Yeah, maybe she could do that, but like she would! Aridean may be a minotaur, but she has the backbone of a bird with two broken wings. Besides, she can’t do anything to us unless she wants to get the town watch involved,” Reil retorted.

“You really want to take that chance though? You know, I’ve seen Ari here lift a full-grown cow and carry it across a raging river once. I know I wouldn’t want to upset her,” Jean continued to half-bluff, it was actually just across a gentle stream. Although Aridean’s shaking body and visible distress made the half-lie less and less convincing.

“Whatever, she can’t touch us, which means we can do whatever we want,” Reil said moving closer. He noticed that Aridean was clutching the locket that she had bought at the pawn shop earlier and snatched it away.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Cowgirl likes her jewelry, does she? Where did someone like you get the money for something like this? You pillage and rob someone for it?” Reil taunted while holding the locket up for his companions to see. The two goons just snickered and laughed.

“N-no, I… Jean loaned me a little money for it. Please, Reil, that’s my father’s birthday present,” Aridean said, her legs felt like little more than jelly underneath her and her voice had begun to crack up. Having witnessed Reil snatch Aridean’s locket, Jean was taken aback. This was the first time he had seen Reil bother her in such a way, but it was not the first time something of a similar caliber had occurred between the two.

“Oh, you got this for old man Gray, huh? Why waste your time? You’re not his real daughter. How long before you just go off and join that stupid rebellion, cowgirl?” Reil spoke with malice in his voice. Aridean’s throat tightened as she tried to respond to the insult. Jean’s playful attitude had all but vanished at the insult to his friend, his fists tightened by his sides.

“Reil, you’re going to give that back to Ari right now,” Jean said with the most serious face Aridean had ever seen him make. It was at this point that Aridean grew even more anxious than she thought possible, she had never seen Jean so upset.

“No, I don’t think I will. Cows don’t need jewelry after all. You want to accessorize, Ari? Hark, you still got that ear piercer and a cattle tag?” Reil laughed, as did his goons. The bully’s laughter was immediately halted as Jean punched him. After realizing what had just happened, Reil snarled, “You’re gonna regret that, farmhand.”

The two boys began to fight there on the dirt road with Aridean and Reil’s goons witnessing the scuffle. Fists flew, dirt was kicked up, and Aridean thought she saw a tooth fly. At one point, Reil had thrown Jean to the ground. Luckily, Jean was quick enough to stand up before Reil could pin him down. But avoiding the pin did not help as Reil threw a punch that knocked Jean over. Jean fell, stumbling backward and hitting his head on the stone wall. The boy went limp as a large gash on his head began to bleed. Aridean froze with fear, her heart sunk in her chest and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe.

“Oh…” Reil said, having realized what he had done. His goons stood, frozen like Aridean, until Reil started to laugh manically.

“Oh, Ari, look what you’ve gone and done! I can’t believe you would do that to your best friend,” Reil exclaimed, his boisterous laughter continued, eventually his goons joined in.

“W-what?” Aridean asked, too shocked by what had just happened to even move a muscle.

“Just wait until the town watch hears about this! Best part is that no one will believe anything you say,” Reil said as he motioned for his fellow thugs to walk back to the village, still laughing over pinning Jean’s injury on Aridean.

“J-Jean?” Aridean called out to her unconscious friend, tears welling in her eyes. It was one thing to Aridean that she be the one who was hurt, but what had happened left her petrified. She called out again, “Jean!”

Aridean finally collected herself and rushed to her friend’s side. First, she checked to make sure that Jean was still breathing. She then looked over the boy’s bloody head and bruised face. It wasn’t a pretty sight and Aridean was worried that Jean might die without immediate attention. Normally, Aridean would patch Jean up with some basic first aid her father had shown her, but this injury was beyond her abilities. Aridean carefully scooped up Jean in her arms and was about to make a mad dash for Thellia’s doctor. But she was worried about having to go back to the village, despite Jean needing a doctor.

“Jean, I’m so, so sorry,” Aridean said, a tear sliding down her cheek. Her legs felt weak under her.

Jean needs me, I can’t let him down, with that thought in mind, Aridean’s resolve strengthened somewhat and she began to run the boy back to the village. To hell with what this village thinks of me, I can’t leave Jean like this.

It was a clear shot straight to the doctor’s office at the center of the village. Aridean heard gasps and whispers as she ran through the street, but she didn’t have time to think about any of it. Finally arriving at the doctor’s, Aridean noticed a sort of clicking sound that had been following her the whole sprint. As she walked through the doctor’s front door, she realized that the sound was coming from Jean. With more tears in her eyes, Aridean noticed what the sound was. Despite his unconscious state, Jean was tightly clutching the locket that Aridean bought for her father’s birthday in his left hand.