Ana
Before my eyes was a family: two women washing their garments in the river. The sun was burning their skin, and they kept wiping the sweat from their foreheads. One had light blonde hair, sun rays reflecting on it and the other one, white threads slowly capturing her head.
A man joined them.
Without even a word, he slammed the older woman’s head on the bank of the river, frustration washing over his face. He was shouting something, but I couldn’t hear anything.
I pressed my ear to the mirror, but no sound came from it.
The younger woman ran away, hiding her face.
“Who are these?” I asked, the answer ringing in my head.
“This is the past,” the Goat Man came closer to me, tapping once on the mirror, enhancing their faces.
Indeed, it was.
That day, my mum and Angelica went to the river to wash all the dirty clothes from the previous day’s celebration.
This happened last year at the Girls’ Fair.
Another year of failure for my family and me.
I remembered how I stood, alone, in the middle of the meadow after a girl younger than me was picked as the last bride of the year.
After the fair, my father picked up his belt. I couldn’t sit straight for a week.
That day, my mum chose to let me sleep in, and by the look on her face, she had not closed her eyes the entire night, tending to my wounds. I wore the scars he left me as a reminder, never to go astray from his words.
I watched my father using both of his hands to inflict pain. I had a surge of satisfaction that he had lost one of them. Quickly, I made the cross sign over my forehead and chest, dispelling the feeling.
The reflection of the Goat Man showed me its skull turned to the ceiling, and I knew it must have rolled its eyes.
“Can this Mirror show anything?” I asked, my eyes searching my mum’s face.
“It can show you anything I want.”
As soon as he spoke, the image changed.
The loving face of my mum cleared up, and in the next moment, it was covered by my father’s remaining hand. Her head jerked as my sister rushed to her side. In the next moment, my father grabbed Angelica and pushed her into the river.
“No!” I shouted. My hands gripped the mirror, shaking it.
My body floated softly onto the bed, its ponevi scratching my skin, tears filling my eyes.
“If you keep defying me like this, peasant,” it whispered in my ear, breaking my skin in goosebumps, “this will be their future.” Its eyes pinned mine through the mirror, its abyss swallowing me in. “You would do well not to offend me.”
My breath caught in my throat, a lump slowly forming. “Goat, I will offend you as much as I can when you think of me as nothing but a stupid peasant. I am so much more,” I spat through my teeth.
Its eyes narrowed behind the skull. My fingers twitched with the urge to take it down and see its true face.
“But you are a peasant. Are you ashamed of it?”
“Never! I would rather pinch my fingers with the needle while making my own clothing or burn my skin in the sun while tending to the crops than be something you are.”
“Hmm...”
The Goat Man tapped once on the mirror’s glass. My family appeared again, this time happier. My mum was cooking, my sister and Gavril were talking to his parents, and my father was nowhere to be seen. They looked more relaxed, not worried at all.
“Is this happening now?” I questioned, my gaze still scrutinising the glass.
Its humming was my answer.
“Did you expect them to feel your loss, didn’t you?” it sighed, warming my earlobe and sending sparks through my body.
I took a deep breath, my eyes darting to my chest. This time, I didn’t cower.
“Yes,” I stated.
The Goat Man took a step back.
“You can go. You saw enough,” he said, his hoof gesturing towards the hallway.
I turned to him. “How would I know that the last picture I’ve seen is the reality and you are not tricking me?”
“As you said earlier, you can take it as you want,” it said, echoing my words.
I nodded and took a step to leave.
“Oh, and woman? I do not think you are stupid,” it mumbled, its skull craned to the ceiling.
I stood with my back to it, sighing once. “Are you sure? Your actions say otherwise. But, if you believe that I am not, show it to me.”
The hallway felt like a breath of fresh air as I stepped into it. The rock floor was still hurting my feet, but in that moment, I felt like I deserved it.
“Get up, Ana!”
I pried my eyes open to the darkness of the cave. The ghost stood in the threshold of my room, lighting a candle.
“The wood arrived, and I need you to help me cut it. So, dress yourself and come!” Andrei urged, pulling a groan out of me. His body bobbed up and down, making the flames follow his movements.
I took one candle of my own and went to the bathroom. Quickly, I washed myself and dressed in clothes that appeared out of nowhere – a long hemp shirt with a leather belt, which men usually wore in our village. Next to them was a pair of tights that would help me move easily.
The sun hasn’t yet crept over the hills, waiting for the darkness to recede. Fresh air filled my lungs as I stepped towards the largest mound of wood I had ever seen. My parents would order two or three carts in the summer, and it should have been enough for the winter.
But before my eyes lay an entire forest.
“Why do you need so much wood?” I asked, walking to Andrei, who was floating over the mound.
“Since you arrived and complained about the cold in the cave, the master commanded me to order more,” he said, still floating.
My head snapped to him. Of course, the Goat Man would want his subject to live long enough to fulfil his selfish desire. I couldn’t see this as an act of kindness. Not from him.
“Why aren’t you cutting it?” I asked, searching the tool on the ground.
“I cannot find the blasted axe,” he whined and turned with his whole body. “Most likely, it’s in the stables where the beast slumbers.”
My brows furrowed.
“The horse does not like being woken up.”
“Then why would you wake me up?” I asked, placing the candle down.
“To ask you nicely to search for it.”
“You and your master demand too much of others. What if it turns wild on me?
“It won’t,” he assured.
“What makes you say that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It likes you,” he replied too quickly, as if he had this conversation already planned.
With my heart in my throat, I took back the candle and went to the stable. The air was colder than I had expected, and the grass was coated with dew.
The stable was enormous, built to fit the size of the horse. I pressed my ear to the wooden door, but besides my quickened heartbeats, I couldn’t hear anything. The stallion should know better than to kill the only advantage his master had.
I’ve ridden it before; therefore, it must have had some kind of trust.
I took a deep breath. My fingers gripped the handle and pulled the door open. A light squeak replaced the silence as I squeezed myself and the candle inside the stable. The smell of fresh hay reached my nose, bringing memories of Angelica and me spreading it across our stable.
No sound reached my ears from the end of the wooden building, so I advanced further on my tiptoes.
On my left were multiple saddles for the horse. I admired the intricate designs, unfamiliar to me. Our saddles were simple, worn by time and passed from father to son. The ones I was looking at were cleaner and more elegant.
On my right were the tools I needed. Multiple axes in different sizes were perched on the stable’s walls. I went there and grabbed one that seemed light in my hand. Perfect for chopping wood.
The sound of a snort came from behind me. I swallowed, my heart accelerating as if my ticker wanted to run away. The horse was up. Its silence stunned me. It sniffed me and snorted again, as if I didn’t deserve its attention.
Its hooves clanked on the ground, making it tremble.
The horse stepped backwards, creating space for me to turn.
Once I did that, I was hit with the horrid smell of death coming from its mouth.
My eyes fixed on its fangs, but it didn’t look as if it intended to attack.
Its mouth opened in the shape of a smile.
Which made me laugh. “You’re a gentle boy, aren’t you?” I whispered, looking in its midnight eyes.
It shook its mane as if saying yes. Its large body blocked my way to the door.
“How about this?” I began, trying to calm my heart. “Let me help Andrei, and I will bring you something sweet to eat.”
While I was in the kitchen yesterday, I noticed a basket filled with apples. Andrei wouldn’t mind if I took some of them to feed the beast before me.
It snorted again, but it made way for me to pass.
“Thank you,” I said, bowing and hiding the axe behind my back, retreating to the stable’s door.
“Just as I thought. The beast does like you!” Andrei laughed, stretching his hand to the axe when he noticed me.
With a smile on my lips, I left the candle on the ground and brought the wood to him to cut it.
After some time, I replaced Andrei in splitting the wood into pieces that would fit in the terracotta stoves. The sun took over the darkness, its heat slowing us down.
The last month of summer, Secerar, was the hardest. It was the time of the year when we would take the wheat from the crops and turn it into flour. Besides that, we had to prepare the seeds from our vegetables for the next season.
As promised, after we took a break to eat, I went back to the stables with apples for the horse. Leaving the wooden door ajar, I went straight to it.
“Here you go,” I said, taking one apple and, with a steady hand, gave it to it.
The beast munched on the fruit, its tail wagging. The hay that was spread beneath it flew in the whole stable, pieces of it landing on my hair. The horse licked my hand, laughter bubbling in my throat.
“What are you doing here?”
Shivers broke on my skin. The horse nudged my hand for more apples, but I couldn’t move. Seeing that I had no intention of giving more, its snout moved to the basket.
“I asked you a question.”
I closed my eyes, trying to keep my heartbeat steady. Turning around and prying my eyes open, I saw the Goat Man standing in the stable door. I squinted, noticing that instead of hooves it had feet.
Moving my gaze over its hidden figure, I saw nothing beyond its abyss. Its cloaks were the same, dark, with small embellishments, either gold or silver. A contrast between my clothing and its.
“I do not have to answer to someone who cowers behind a hood.” My shoulders stood straighter as the Goat Man advanced.
The man, because Goat it was not then, kept his hands hidden, but I had a clear memory of one of them touching me. His feet brushed my opinci, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them. It was an odd sensation.
What lay behind the mask and cloak?
“I am still your master,” he said, his voice low and touching my skin.
The feelings this creature instilled in me were against my beliefs. As he waited for my reply, I prayed to God to illuminate my path and not to fall into his spider web.
“That you are, yes. On paper.” My retort came quickly, and my prayer was forgotten. “I am here to feed your horse.”
My eyes travelled to the hood, my fingers twitching to pull it back from his strange eyes.
The Goat Man sidestepped me, going to the stallion, which was still eating the apples. A smile broke over my lips.
I watched enthralled as the Goat Man took a brush and started to run it over the horse's coat. It stood quietly, under the power of its owner.
“For how long has this horse been your companion?” I asked, supporting my shoulder on one of the wooden poles that held the structure of the stable. The Goat Man stood behind the horse, hiding.
“Since the beginning.”
The answer was curt, but I felt his eyes on me. “And that is…?”
“A very long time ago,” he said, his mind far away. “I don’t remember,” he admitted.
“Will I forget my life too?” My voice became smaller, imagining that I had to unlearn everything about my family.
“To be honest, I don’t know. I heard the other members of the Order talking about their past lives, so you might still have memories.”
My brows furrowed. “And you do not.”
“And I do not,” he repeated, bending to brush the hair from the stallion’s legs.
It seemed odd to be calm around the Goat Man, to talk to him as if we were sharing a glass of mulled wine.
“Are you sure you won’t be able to come?” He knew what I was referring to – the baptism procession.
His head snapped, the cloak’s fabric dangling. “No.” He took a deep breath. “I do not like to repeat myself.”
I sighed. “Well, you think I am stupid; therefore, I have to ask countless times until your words register.”
The brush fell to the ground with a loud sound.
My arms were gripped by strong fingers, and my body was pushed against the wooden pole. The grip lessened, leaving me room to step away. But I couldn’t. Not when I was transfixed by the Goat Man’s chin.
What was happening to me that a piece of skin was keeping me grounded?
“I told you already, I do not consider you stupid. No one in the Order could stand against the Elk. Even if your belief in God is fiction, no one dares to even utter a word against my master.”
I swallowed, trying to see beyond the fabric. My belief in God was what drove me further into this wretched mission.
His words hit me. “I won’t let your world ruin mine.”
“What is my world, Ana?” he whispered, too close to me. His fingers disappeared from my hands, leaving iciness in their wake. Even if he didn’t hold me anymore, I stood there, staring at a patch of skin.
“Death. And mine is life.”
He took a step back, pulling his hood better on his face. “Soon, it will be yours too.” The Goat Man turned around, resuming brushing the horse.
“I won’t let your darkness swallow my light. My love for God is bigger than whatever lurks here.” My hands fretted. I was slowly waking up from the daze this creature had on me.
He snorted. “You’ll see, Ana, that darkness’s claws are larger and sharper than those of light.”
I stepped away from the horse, taking the empty basket. “Perhaps. But it will be worth fighting it.”
“With what? You won’t have a heart.”
His words made me stand straighter. “Why?”
“If your love,” he drawled, mocking the word, “is so strong for your god, then you will feel it without a heart.”
The sky descended on me in that moment. Without thinking, I placed my hand over his chest. The touch stilled both of us. But I was trying to find his pulse, whereas he was a statue under my fingertips.
“There’s no movement,” I whispered.
Instead of taking my hand away from his cloak, the Goat Man took my fingers and wrapped them around his wrist.
There was a pulse. His words from a few weeks ago came to me. And you’ll never feel your heart beating in your chest. I couldn’t pay attention then, due to my thoughts and high emotions.
When I moved my eyes away from our linked hands to his chin, I realised we were too close. It became too warm and too loud.
And with that, I left him alone with the horse.