A Centaur Story

Ch 1

“What do you think, Baylor?” Melanie asked, leaning on his new bedroom doorway. The teen was standing on his bed, attempting to tack up a poster that was almost taller than him. She noticed a stubborn corner that was continuously falling away from the wall. Melanie crossed the room and held it up for him while he stuck the push pin into it, ending its rebellion.

“Thanks,” He said, pushing his hair out of his eyes, hopping off the bed and retrieving the next poster. Melanie's been his nanny long enough to know when he wanted to be left alone, which was becoming more and more often recently. She ruffled his light brown hair lightly before taking her leave.

The twenty one year old navigated her way through the labyrinth of boxes and eventually surfaced in the bright kitchen. She began the daunting task of finding everything she needed to make them a decent meal.

Half an hour later, Baylor came down stairs and helped her quietly. He's a good kid. Melanie thought to herself as she searched for a pot.

“I don’t hate it.” Baylor said suddenly, pulling a scratched pot out of the clutches of its brethren.

“I think you’ll love it. I mean, look at that forest! There's many adventures to be had back there.” She said chipperly, standing up to look out the window facing the sprawling forest behind the house.

“Hey, Mel?” He placed the pot gingerly on the stove.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to pretend, I know you're not thrilled about this either,” he said. She turned to protest, but he had already vanished amid the boxes. With a sigh, she continued to hunt for a wooden spoon.

He’s right. Hell, he always is. She thought, standing and stretching her back.

When Christina and Lance left them this house, it seemed almost too good to be true. Their passing was so sudden and left Baylor with almost nothing, but atleast he had a home and he had Melanie. They'd just have to get used to the fact that the house was tiny and slightly lopsided.

The ancient cabin felt heavy around her. She wandered out the back door, a slight drizzle welcoming her. She pulled her sweater up to cover her hands and pushed onwards. The grass came up to her knees and soaked her jeans through. She noticed a sagging shed in the back corner of the yard, next to a tangle of weeds that must have once been a garden. With some determination, she forced open the rusted hinges to the shed door. A powerful, rotting odor sent her careening backwards, her hand flew to her face to filter the smell. It was so dark that she couldn't see what was dead inside, but she knew damn sure that Baylor would be handling whatever it was. He's not the squeamish type.

A twig snapped a few feet from her. Her head whipped towards the woods and she removed her hands from her face. After a moment of tense silence, she remembered the deer she almost hit earlier that day a few yards from the house. She shook it off and headed back into the cabin, intent on making some comfort food. Baylor and her certainly needed it.

Ch 2

Baylor woke up the next morning shivering with a wet face and pillow, having accidentally left the window open last night during a storm. At least you slept. He thought, not feeling particularly accomplished.

He pulled on his usual jeans and battered hoodie and headed downstairs. The house was quickly coming together and he knew to thank Melanie later.

He wandered into the mostly finished living room and found his nanny asleep on the couch, TV still on. He replaced the blanket that had fallen off of her small frame and left a note by her head telling her that he was going out to explore the woods. He added a thank you at the end and offered to make dinner that night, it was the least he could do for her.

Thankfully the rain had stopped by the time he got outside. He made his way towards the woods, stopping to look into the open shed in the back corner. It was empty except for a rusty lawnmower and some chairs. He crossed the property line.

The forest was rather pleasant, really. Light spattered the ground and the after rain smell surrounded him. He picked his way along a slightly overgrown path, doing his best to avoid getting his white converse covered in mud. His mom always hated when he came home dirty. He knew Mel didn't care, but old habits are hard to break.

After awhile, the forest lulled him into a relaxed trance. He had no idea how much time had passed or how far he had gotten from the house, until he tripped and slammed his head off of a rock.

Sivan paused mid-whip, having heard a loud thud.He turned towards the sound and carefully began trotting towards it. That kid. He remembered, picking up the pace slightly. He had seen the gangly teenager earlier, picking contentedly along the old path. Sivan had followed him for a little while, curious as to the boys intent, but once he realized his expedition was simply one of exploration, he left the boy and went to hunt.

He came to the path and ran along it for a short while, using his senses to determine the boys wear abouts. Smelling blood, he ran even faster now, hooves kicking up mud around him, splattering his legs and stomach.

He finally found the boy, splayed on the ground, head resting on a huge, slightly bloodstained rock.

“Holy...” He bent over and pressed his fingers to the boy's neck. Sivan relaxed a bit when he felt a pulse. Then the boy stirred slightly, forcing Sivan to retreat quietly into the trees.

Baylor sat up slowly and felt around the throbbing area on his skull. When he pulled his hand away, his fingers were stained with blood.

“Damn,” he whispered, grabbing a branch and trying to pull himself up. Once he was steady, he noticed a tingling feeling on the back of his neck. Someone was watching him.

Sivan eyed the teen carefully. The boy was starting to sway slightly. He's going to fall again. Sivan decided just as Baylor's knees buckled. Without thinking, Sivan lunged out of the cover of the trees and caught the boy before he hit the ground again.

Baylor felt someone stop his fall. He tried to blink away his increasing tunnel vision and caught a glimpse of a sharp featured young man with blue eyes and long brown hair.

“You’re alright.” The guy whispered before Baylor faded out of consciousness.

Sivan held the boy in his arms, feeling rather uncomfortable and debating on what to do next. I can’t leave him, but how the hell do I get him back without the girl seeing me? He argued with himself. He pictured the dark haired girl he saw wandering the yard last night, she had heard him, but thankfully didn't see him. She doesn't seem the type to own a shotgun. He finally decided, gently placing the boy over his back and trotting carefully towards the old cabin.

He entered the yard quietly, making sure the girl was inside. He could see her unpacking things in the living room. Sivan carefully removed the still unconscious boy from his back and placed him onto the ground. He unwrapped his whip from around his waist and cracked it against the shed. A gunshot like sound echoed across the yard.

Melanie screeched at the sudden sound, almost dropping the vase in her hands. She ran over to the window and saw Baylor lying on the grass.

“Baylor!” She shouted, running out into the yard and over to him. He stirred slightly and opened his eyes to look at her.

“I fell,” he said simply, propping himself up onto his elbows.

“I see that,” she shook her head and examined his wound. Thankfully, it wasn't too bad. A few stitches and he’d be fine.

His names Baylor. Sivan noted, watching from just beyond the tree line.

She glanced over at the shed, trying to determine what made the loud noise, when she realized the smell was gone and the shed was empty.

“Baylor, what was in the shed?” She asked, pulling him to his feet.

“What do you mean?” He asked, glancing over to it.

“There was something dead inside, it reeked. What was it?” She raised an eyebrow at him, maybe he hit his head harder than she thought.

“There was nothing dead when I looked in there this morning,” he answered. Sivan chuckled softly, remembering the dead raccoons he removed from the shed last night. He watched them go into the house and disappeared back into the woods, satisfied with Baylor's safety.

Melanie laid Baylor onto the couch and went to fetch the medkit. She fixed him up quickly and sent him off to rest. Baylor decided not to tell her about the man he saw, after all the man didn't hurt him and didn’t seem to be aggressive. Pulling out his sketch pad and some charcoal, he doodled a quick sketch of how he remembered the stranger's face. He felt obligated to remember it. He dozed off about halfway through.

Melanie came upstairs a few hours later, dinner was ready. She knocked lightly on Baylor's door and when he didn't answer, she tiptoed in. He was sleeping peacefully, for once. She crossed the room to wake him, but a sketch in his slack hand caught her attention.

It was a face of a man with incredibly sharp features. A long nose, statue like cheekbones, and a jaw that could chisel rock. The man's blue eyes, the only part of the drawing with color, dominated the page, holding her attention. Baylor had always been a talented artist, but this was unreal. She could almost feel the eyes looking at her, she could see the emotion behind them. The drawings features resembled those of a horse, yet somehow, this man was beautiful.

“Mel?” Baylor shifted in his bed, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Who’s this?” She asked, turning towards him, holding the drawing up for him to see.

Shit. Baylor cursed himself for leaving the sketch out.

“A-a book character,” He stammered. “He’s, uh,” He scanned the picture quickly, the first thing that popped into his head was how much the man resembled a horse. “He’s a centaur, and I thought he’d be a cool drawing,” Baylor lied, getting up and taking the drawing from her.

“Uh, okay... come on, dinner's ready,” Melanie said, his lie obvious. But she decided to leave it, no use pestering him over a drawing of some guy. He has enough to deal with without her getting on his ass about nothing.

Ch 3

The next morning, Melanie was woken by a knock at the front door. She groaned and sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

Baylor pulled himself away from the book he was reading in the living room and opened the old screen door.

“Hey, good morning, sorry to come over so early, but I’m Avan, I’m your next door neighbor.” A tall, blond guy said, smiling cheerfully at Baylor.

“Uh, hey.” Baylor answered.

“What's your name, bud?” Avan leaned against the door frame.

“Baylor.”

“Cool name.” He shifted a bit. “Are your parents home, or…?” Avan asked, looking around Baylor.

“Can we help you?” Melanie asked, coming into view and placing a hand on Baylor's shoulder.

“I'm Avan, I, uh, I live next door.” the blond stammered, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. Oh come on. Baylor groaned.

“Oh! Nice to meet you. I'm Melanie and this,” she gestured to the skeptical teen, “Is Baylor.” She tried to smile as reassuringly as she could, Baylor isn’t fond of strangers and she didn't want him to scare off the handsome boy next door. Baylor begrudgingly smiled back.

“Well, come in. I’ll make you some breakfast?” Mel asked, gesturing for Avan to come inside. Baylor shot her a disapproving look, which she pointedly ignored.

The two boys sat awkwardly at the breakfast bar. Melanie whipped up some pancakes. Avan tried to make polite small talk with the teen, but Baylor couldn't help but notice how his eyes never left Melanie.

The ice melted quickly between Avan and Mel, but Baylor only grew colder.

“Mel, I’m going to go walk around the woods again.” Baylor said, standing up from the table and interrupting their conversation.

“Alright, just don't smash your head again and don't go too far,” Melanie ruffled his hair, which he normally didn't mind, but infuriated him today. “Be back before dinner!”

“Nice to meet you, Baylor. And you should really be careful, strange stuff happens back there,” Avan said, looking out towards the trees.

The teen nodded and did his best not to storm out of the house, but once he crossed the border between domestic and wild, he finally let his mind reel.

The hell does that guy think he is, showing up and flirting with Mel like that? Baylor quickly worked himself up, as teens do, ranting in his own mind. Melanie was the only person he had, and this blond idiot certainly wasn't going to change that. His anger swiftly built, and before long he was screaming to the patient trees and those who lived among them.

Sivan stumbled out from under his shelter, rubbing his hands over his face. Is that Baylor? He stretched out slowly and wrapped his old whip around his waist. Silently, he trotted towards the shouting, stopping once the raging teen came into his sight. He was stomping on sticks and kicking the trees, shouting about God knows what. Sivan forced down a laugh at the dramatic boys display.

“Why do I even bother?” Baylor's voice suddenly cracked. “What's the fucking point?” He dropped onto the ground, leaning against a tree and pulling his knees to his chest. Baylor started crying. Sivan shifted on his hooves uncomfortably.

Just go, Sivan. It's a kid, why should you care? He told himself. Then Sivan realized,Baylor reminded him of Dakota. Quiet, yet intelligent. Courageous, yet careful. Sivan had lost his brother years ago, but there was something similar between him and Baylor.

Sivan hadn't realized that he had spoken until it was too late.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Baylor's head shot up, he knew that voice, it belonged to the man who found him yesterday.

“Who are you?” Baylor stood up, reaching for the dull swiss army knife in his pocket.

You pony, you fucking pony. Sivan scolded himself.

“Who’s there?” Baylor tried to sound brave, but he could feel terror locking up his muscles.

“Sivan.” He said, clapping his hand over his mouth. Shut the hell up!

“S-Sivan?” He was shaking like a mouse cornered by a cat.

Go, Sivan. Run. Every instinct in his body urged him to get the hell out of there, but something kept him rooted to the spot.

“You brought me home yesterday, r-right?” Baylor took deep, shaking breaths. He told himself that if Sivan wanted to kill him, he would have done it already.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wasn't just going to leave you there.”

“Where are you?” Baylor looked around him for any clue of which direction the voice was coming from.

“In the woods.”

Baylor half-smiled, his fear waning. “Really? Couldn't have guessed.” The stranger sounded more afraid than he did. “Come out.”

Sivan took a step forward but paused. You’re going to scare the poor kid away. Don't move a hoof.

Baylor had heard the trees rustle slightly to his right. “Come on, I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me.” He forced himself to drop the knife onto the path.

A huge, dark shape moved towards him. The teen took a few steps back just as dirty hands pushed branches out of the way and a black hoof kicked up dirt from the path. A massive centaur surfaced from the trees.

He had the same face Baylor remembered from yesterday, only now it was resting on the shoulders of a human torso attached at the hips to a buckskin horse body. He was huge, at least eight feet tall and looked like he had once been a statue. His dark hair was pulled back into a small bun.

Sivan crouched down slightly, trying to appear less intimidating. Baylor noticed a thin wire wrapped multiple times around the binding area between man and horse. A shining green jewel sharpened to an arrow head was attached to the end of it. The centaur noticed his gaze and unwrapped it from his torso and dropped it next to Baylor's, now pathetic looking, swiss army knife.

Sivan was covered in mud, his black legs were splattered with light brown dirt and his tan body was tinged brown in some places. His black tail was caked with dirt, along with his bare chest. There was a dark brand on his left haunch depicting two hatchets crossing each other. He was frightening and unbelievable and absolutely stunning.

"Hello, Baylor," Sivan said softly

"Wh-what are you?"

"A centaur," Sivan answered simply.

"Should I, are you, are you going to hurt me?"

"Why would I hurt you?"

Baylor didn't have an answer. This creature, Sivan, although massively intimidating, seemed rather calm. He spoke softly and moved carefully, as if Baylor was the threat.

"It's getting dark," The centaur nodded towards the sinking sun. "Allow me to bring you home, the woods are dangerous at night."

"No, no, it's alright. Thanks, though," and with that, the teen turned and walked quickly down the path. He looked back over his shoulder, half expecting Sivan to be standing where he had left him, but the centaur was gone. He continued down the path in silence, rubbing the throbbing lump on his forehead, completely forgetting about his dad's knife.

Sivan carefully picked up the knife and followed silently behind the boy, just to make sure that he made it home safe.

When Baylor stepped inside the warm cabin, he found his nanny curled up in the couch with a book, television muted. She glanced up And smiled when he entered.

“Hey, how's your head?” Melanie placed the book in her lap.

“Fine.” Baylor said, sinking into his dad's leather recliner.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “That's good, are you hungry?”

“Not really. Where'd that guy go?”

“His name's Avan, and he went home about an hour ago.” She stood up and padded to the kitchen.

“I don't like him, you two got along too well.” Baylor mused.

“Come on, he was perfectly friendly.” She answered, returning to the couch with a steaming mug of tea.

“Oh, I’ll bet he was.” He said, smirking at her. She looked up in alarm.

“What? No, no. It's not like that, not at all. Baylor, where the hell did you get an idea like that?” She said, cheeks glowing pink.

He laughed harder. She threw a pillow at him.

“So anything interesting happen out there? Avan said that there's been some weird sightings and accidents recently.” She asked, suddenly serious.

“No, nothing really.” He pulled a blanket up to his chin and grabbed his own book.

He could feel her eyes on him, he was a terrible liar.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally. Nothing but trees and dirt.” He brought the book close to his face.

“Okay, just, be cautious, okay? For me?” She nudged his foot with her chilly toes.

“I will, Mel, I promise.”

“By the way, Avans coming over to help with plumbing and stuff tomorrow.” She said quickly, rising to her feet.

“Wait, what?” His head shot up, but she was already half way up the stairs.

Ch 4

SIvan moved delicately between the trees. A gust of wind brought the earthy scent of beer to his nose.

Again. He shook his head. The music thumped underneath him.

He drew closer to the college kids, they were less than five yards away from his camp. It was the usual lot, twelve kids, eight guys, four girls. All but one blond were trashed. Sivan eyed him curiously.

It was always the same person, he sat alone with a bottle of water and an amused look on his face.

Sivan heard leaves crunching. He looked towards the path just as a familiar face passed by.

“Melanie! Glad you could make it.” The blond said, smiling and standing to welcome her. His drunken friends didn't seem to notice the new arrival.

They sat together on a rock and he offered her a beer. She declined. He smiled.

Sivan watched as the two of them talked quietly, giggling softly. His arm fell around her shoulders when she shivered. Her hand rested lightly on his knee. The centaur felt his heart sink slightly. It had been so long since he’d seen her.

He turned and left them to enjoy each others company. It didn't take him long to find somewhere to sleep, The Toran wasn't very far. He drifted off quickly, comforted by the closeness of his home, the closeness of her, and the closeness of his family.

“Sivan.” Something nudged him. He groaned and shifted. “Hey, Siv.” The voice said again.

He opened an eye and glanced upwards, a large silhouette was blocking the morning sun.

“Herring?” He slurred, rubbing his face.

“Morning, my love.” Herring said, pulling the half-sleeping centaur to his feet. Sivan stretched and sent a bemused look towards his friend. “Don’t look so happy to see me.”

“You can't keep coming out here.” Sivan said, crossing his arms.

“And?” The red haired centaur raised an eyebrow. Sivan swallowed a chuckle. “I have to check up on you every once and awhile, make sure you didn't get mauled or shot.”

“Mhm.” Sivan started walking towards his camp, Herring followed.

They remained quiet for awhile.

“I know you want to ask, Siv.” Herring said, bumping his friends shoulder.

Sivan remained silent.

“Alright, fine. I won’t tell you about your mother or Nik-”

“Herr, I really don’t want to know.” Sivan said, cutting him off. They arrived at Sivans small camp. Herring kicked a beer can and sent it skittering into the trees.