The season is summer with an autumn's air and smell smell lingering about. The town of Mulberg is cramped is cramped with honorary wheat wolf giants and other figures, for the preparation of a festival. On days like these, where the main streets connected to the shops and the town gets a large number of tourists, it tends to become crowded with on-lookers and celebrants from the village combined. The town's children often times choose to play in the festival grounds, messing around with the adults at work. While the adults in all their various occupations, work twice as hard to ensure that they enjoy going all out on an annual event ā As if their whole lives accumulate to a festival celebration.
The Celtic-styled music plays all day long in the meager town. Tourists and figures of all sorts appear even in remote places such as this, and get dragged into the liveliness of a quaint and old village. Come the elves with their merry bands and wonderful cooking. The Dwarves with their amusing banter at the forges and along with their trade. The orcs with their wild partying natures and drinking that shook whole taverns broke out of alcohol or tables. The nobles are not to be excluded from the festivities. On the fancy carriages wearing their fancy dresses and suits, they are chaperoned by at the least two. On their villas and parties come the classical pieces, its arts and their dance.
The humans are fascinating so to speak. "Living short lives but much more fulfilling than others." Such is what differentiates the short-lived humans from the long-living immortals. I hate humans, no matter how I try to comprehend it I will always be looked down upon as a mere child. I love humans, their wisdom in a few decades surpasses those who live centuries and have petty things called "Ways of life". That's the most I myself can tell about myself; it's not that there isn't much to tell, it's just that these thoughts are the only thing I have that keep me as myself.
Clad in a black suit with multiple layers that can put other nobles and lords to shame. A black pants of lighter tone to follow the suit with the suit; Ha! Get it?.. I'll continue. A top-hat to avoid letting people see the embarrassment that is my bald-spot. But among all else is the most shocking part, I am no human for I am but a meager Wendigo; a man with a goat-skull for a head. In the eye-sockets for appearance's sake I placed two wax candles that are lit up so that I can have my own set of eyes. With a uniquely engraved cane, that can be detached to reveal a blade, my very own cane-sword! How very fancy.
That's right, I am but a meager goat-man dressed up as a noble in a common-folks open party. However this is not my story, you'll have to wait for that in the near future, let's talk about the boy who became a massive pain in the ass. Someone supposedly adorable with an angel for a name, I'll be keeping a close eye on him, this boy can put me to shame. For the record I don't actually have hair and I hate it.
The summer-autumn skies are turning to a golden color. The dryness of the cool winds can never reach, but the cool winds do stiffen the exposed goat-head bone being worn. Flickering left and right, danced the flames of the candles hidden away within the cavern entrances of my eye-sockets. Though half a kilometer away from the town, the festival noise still reaches my ears. It is both fine and displeasing, such is when you are reminded of how much one would never fit in. As the sun sinks behinds the silhouette of far-away trees, I bid the day farewell, calling it fine and turning around to walk back to town.
A set of feet crash against the ground, from the sound of the sprinting it's a figure with a weight of 82 lbs. A child? only one to boot, what's a lone child doing so far from anyone in town. The sound of a grumbling stomach, sourced out from my belly; how very fortunate that I, a goat-man who is a monster born against humanity is alone with a boy, a boy without his friends, parents or guardian to look after him and to top it all off I am starving. Monster eats child, rumors spread and I will get promoted from a normal monster to a higher ranking one, this is my path to become a Pagan!
The goat-man eerily and slowly turned around towards the boy. If the skull-face of a goat could make a smile then one would be painted onto the face of the man. If there was anything much more menacing than a goat-man who's candle-lit flame eyes turn a red color showing a blank stare towards the boy it would be..
"Ah hello there child-" The slow and eerie voice of the man who stood at 6'4 with a head for a goat's skull. A glinting on the goat-man's hand appears, the goat-man pulled up the cane ever so slightly to reveal the iron blade's shine. The blade wouldn't go completely out of its special sheathe until the boy gets any closer and shows fear. "..-What are you doing here all alone-" The goat-man is cut off.
It was then that a silence and a cold and dry autumn breeze passes by the goat-man, the boy had already been away from his sights after having run past the rather tall. "Sorry old man! I'm on a bit of a rush!" The boy kept sprinting with a rather impressive stamina that could put many others to shame.
But that much didn't mattered to the goat-man at the slightest. Not at all. The goat-man has been entitled a low-ranking monster specifically because he's not being taken seriously by the humans, and in the right time where he could become as menacing as can be ā that effort is put to waste. Wasted efforts on a child of all people, the type of people so much more easier to scare and fright. "I was very desperate. I am hurt. Just why." With every amount of pride shattered. With every depths of his stomach growing tighter. The goat-man would have cried if he could.
It was a terrible end for the day. The skies has lost its golden and red color. A summer's cloudy night takes over the skies and allow only so few stars to shine through the atmosphere. With the times growing to be colder and the night sinking even further, the goat-man calls it a day and returns to the village, to eat at a human tavern and sleep at a human inn.
As if the day could not at all get any worse, what happened next might as well be the nail against the coffin. The Goat-man walked along the road with the speed of a snail. A gray cloud practically hovering above his head. Setting his sights upon a same familiar figure that stood at 5'2 with the weight of 82 lbs is the very same child. A child he attempted to fright and maybe would have eaten. The terrible memory recalling to his mind and bringing him closer to breaking down.
It only got worse from here. The boy seemed to be asking for directions for quite a while now, but apparently no one were around or wanted to help someone who looked like a mage. Mages in Mulberg never had the best reputations. Mages often caused great trouble by disrupting the peace between the village and the forest of spirits. With no one to help him the boy turned to the goat-man with a straightforward and calm tone, "Excuse me Mr, can you help show me the way to a records?" The boy asked in a tone that could practically be called adorable. Not the kind of tone the goat man wanted to hear!!
The goat man with every passing second had been put closer to tears. The wax in his eye sockets melt to resemble a crying. The goat-man turned his head aside and then abruptly responded, "I have been humiliated too much. I'm afraid I can't help you"
The boy however decided to stand his ground. He's had enough with people not answering his request even though it is important enough to possibly save someone's life. "I will not have that! you will tell me where the records are or I will-"
Right in the middle of the boy's statement he was abruptly interrupted by the tall man with a loud sigh. "You are being too loud, will me telling you get you off of my skin?" With a very monotone and impatient sound to his voice, the goat man calmly asked to as much as possible get the boy out of there before he broke down in the shame.
The boy stammered and nearly stumbled back a step. Blinking a few times before clearing out his throat to answer, "Y-Yes, that is all I came in here for."
That's all the boy came to him for, to ask questions as if he was just a regular person and completely ignoring the fact that he had a goat for a head. "Head west into Falem, take a caravan if you must. Just leave me be."
The boy scratched his head. A look of confusion appeared all over his face, "Right well erm, I'll repay the favor one day, what's your na-"
"Ainnash Q'theshta" With a snappy response, he told someone his name. Immediately cutting off the boy once more.
"Right, well call me Seraph then, see you soon old man!" The boy left on a relatively happy note and finally resumed his journey, running towards the stables and turned to wave to the man before leaving, "By the way, good costume Mr Ainnash!" Afterwards he finally turned around and got inside a caravan.
That was it! the final nail to the coffin that has made this day the absolute worst. The fact that it was all unintentional insulting only made it ten times much more painful. Ainnash pulls out the blade out of his cane-sword and looked at it, "How very shiny, I will be sure to kill you one day Seraph. That or myself-"
Ainnash pulled out the blade completely, raised it in the air and pointed the blade towards himself and jabbed it into-
That brings a temporary end to the melancholy of Ainnash Q'theshta, the goat-man whom the village entitled "The Certified Madman" and the very same man that never got the respect he deserved as a monster. Enjoy the rest of your day readers.