The Last Warrior

The forest was dense and foggy, the ground moist. The air had the fragrance it did after the rain hit, something Cahira had loved since she was little.

Cahira had been walking for about two days—without food. Her stomach groans had begun to become painful, so she knew she should hunt and lie down. She was used to not eating for a few days. There were harsh winters, but because she had a plentiful spring—and an ongoing summer—she wasn’t very used to not eating.

Cahira caught a miniature boar and cooked it’s meat on a spitfire.

She had never felt lonelier. When she was back at camp, she had always been surrounded by spirits. Though she never saw them—she felt them. Without them, she felt empty.

When the meat looked finished, she took the meat off the stick and ate it silently.

A rustle in the bushes made her freeze.

Then another.

And then another.

And worse, they seemed to be coming from everywhere.

“Who’s there?!” Cahira yelled out, grabbing her dagger. She turned at every sound, which meant turning every three seconds. Was there a whole herd of them? Whatever they were?

The bushes rustled heavily in one corner.

Cahira turned to it, taking a step forward to the intruder. She stayed silent as he revealed himself.

The first thing she saw poke out from behind a tree was a dark head. Hair so dark it could’ve been decided as black, but definitely brown. Then, a jump of forest green—they were his eyes. An angular jaw—face for that matter, with skin tan and dark, and a chiseled chest. Another thing, his ears were slightly—well, more than slightly—pointed, as if they were trying to form they were trying to form donkey of horse ears, but just not letting him, staying in human form, but stretched.

Then, a hoof landed in the dirt in front of him. Then another. And then, four horse legs. He had the upper body of a man—the rest was a horse. A centaur, to put the creature in words.

He wore leather armor, a sword sheath strapped to his side. He looked achingly familiar, as if someone had told her about him before, or maybe she read about him…

“Hello, fair maiden, I am Chiron.” He reached for my hand, immediately changing his hand and going for the other—since the first one had the dagger in it. He kissed it, very slowly.

She pulled her hand away. “I am Cahira. What do you want?”

Suddenly, a lumbering centaur crashed through the trees, wobbling and tripping over his own hooves. He had light blonde hair that stretched down his back. He seemed to be much younger, but a few years older than Cahira. She sighed at the drunken creature. Now that she listened closely, she could almost hear music in the distance—happy music. She hadn’t heard that in a while.

“Hello, Aric.” Chiron said, pulling the drunk to him and holding him against his side in a strong hold. “Look who I found!” He waved at Cahira and Eric finally seemed to focus his vision. He finally laid eyes on her and rubbed his hand through his hair.

“Whoa.” He mumbled. He walked to her as easily as he could; only stumbling once. “Hello, C-Cahira.” He smiled at his once mess-up. “I’m Aric.” He pointed back toward the trees. “Would you like to join the party?”

Centaurs in general were a rowdy lot of creatures. Always intent primarily on drinking wine and chasing women, these creatures were also great in battle.

Maybe good enough to give me a good fight?

“Yes.” Cahira replied, smiling. “If you give me a ride.”

Aric smiled devilishly, “It’d be my pleasure.” He offered his hand, but she waved it away and pulled herself on his back.

Aric turned, Chiron following, and made his way through the forest. Cahira dodged a hanging branch, awhile still regretting her ridiculous decision. Was she really planning on getting drunk and partying with a bunch of centaurs?

The music grew louder and louder, and then they entered a clearing. As soon as they entered, the whole word became silent, and all you could hear were the bugs in the grass. There were some human girls here, dirty dancing with the rowdy centaurs.

Then, all at once, they raised their glasses in cheers and shouts and music played—seemingly louder than before.

She slid off the Aric’s back and glanced around, looking for the wine, when Chiron handed her a glass. He winked at her, and then walked off through the crowds of horse and human feet. The sound of a lyre radiated around the large clearing as feet/hooves clapped against the ground.

Cahira readied herself, gulped down the wine, and joined the party.



I see why men are hated in my family, Cahira thought as she stumbled away from the clearing. I swear, about twelve tried to get me in their pants…

She stumbled down a strange dirt path before stopping a moment to catch her breath. She dropped the empty wooden cup to the ground and began walking on—before almost running into rock.

She stumbled back a few paces and saw that in front of her stood a large cave. “Hey, any shelter’s a shelter, right?” She muttered and walked in.

A fire flickered in the middle of the room, so bright she squinted.

“So, you decided to join me?” Chiron came out of the darkness, the fir laminating his face.

“Yep.” Cahira answered, wiping her face of wet stickiness from the sweet wine.

“Tell me, Cahira, who are you looking for?”

Cahira turned quickly, her eyes hard. “What makes you think I’m looking for anyone?” She growled.

Chiron chuckled, shuffling his hooves. “You have a vengeful look in your eye. Who are you loking for?”

Cahira sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree, staring into the fire a moment. She heaved out silently and answered, “A god.”

Chiron chuckled again. Then, as he scratched his head, he began to laugh. “How do you plan to do that?” He heaved between breaths.

“Shut up, you idiot!” Cahira yelled. Gods, it hurt to scream. Her headache was killing her. Normally, she wouldn’t have screamed at the wise man. She would’ve growled something at him and they would continue. He laughed more at the way she replied, knowing it was so because she was drunk.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He held his hands up in surrender, then asked, “What’s your plan?”

“My plan?” She asked, clarifying what he had asked. “I plan to see the Oracle of Delphi. He could give me answers.”

He laughed so small, she questioned she had heard it at all. “What god?”

“That is none of your business!”

“Okay, okay.”

There was a long silence, until finally she gave in. “It’s Hercules.”

He smiled weakly at her. “Wow, your aiming high, aren’t you?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t kill him without purpose. He killed my tribe.” Cahira explained. He nodded, and began to pace across the room.

“You know, I taught Hercules a lot about medicines and fighting before he did the twelve labors.” Chiron gazed up at the ceiling, then back at her open-jawed face.

“You helped him kill my family—?”

“Now, wait. Calm down, it’s not like I knew what he would do.”

Cahira huffed and turned away.

“But I could help you slightly in your situation.”

Cahira turned toward him, suddenly in interest. “Really?”

He smiled, and then took a chug of wine. He wiped a drop that escaped his lips and turned back toward her, sighing in delight.

“Show me.”