The Goat Man
The loud neighing of my horse awoke me from my restless slumber. My eyes would not, by any means, pry open, and my body resisted my mind’s urge to check what was happening outside.
It was harder to sleep with a curious child running on the rocky floor, following me around the cave, and demanding multiple stories from me. Like him, Ana wanted to hear everything. She winced at every sentence that contained the words decapitated, broken, or blood.
As if she hadn’t taken six souls already.
In honesty, I liked the setting she had created in my absence. I did not mind that my feet would step on finely crafted wooden cubes that Andrei had sculpted and gifted to the child as a toy and for him to build the largest tower in the village, as he put it.
I surprised myself in the past few days watching Ana with Eugen.
She was a woman born to be a mother. And I took that from her with my selfish act.
With each glance at the child, I saw the remorse in her eyes, the nose flaring, followed by a killer look.
And every time she did that, my pulse jumped, the guilt eating me alive.
Another neigh broke the tender silence of the morning.
With a grunt, I stood up, my naked body travelling to the chair where I had left my robe. The soft fabric glided over my skin, my pale fingers tying the knot at my waist.
I wandered to the kitchen, where Ana kneaded dough on the wooden table.
“I’m making pog?ci,” she announced, moving to a small basin where cheese waited to fill the dough. I peeked over the rim, pulled by the scent.
“That’s a lot of cheese. Are you cooking for an army?” I raised my eyebrow watching her hands covered in bits of dough.
She huffed, a smile breaking over her lips. “This child eats more than the two of us combined.”
“My little sister was like this, eating whatever she could. She was the wonder of the family, since, according to my parents, the older siblings would fuss with everything they offered,” I said, watching her hands shaking at the sound of my voice.
Her eyes met mine, and we stood there for a couple of seconds, admiring each other.
“Yes… well,” she cleared her throat. “I believe Andrei and Eugen are doing something to the stallion, I heard him neighing.”
Flour stained her apron, the contrast between the white and the ink-coloured garment standing out. Just like us.
“Andrei is trying to clean the stable, and the horse won’t budge. And Eugen is watching the scene,” she chuckled.
She was trying to deflect me from questioning her feelings. But I noticed her cheeks getting red and her lips parting as if she wanted me to kiss her. And oh, how much I wanted to do that. Not until she realises that there is room in her soul for both her god and me.
I grabbed her floury hand and kissed it, enjoying her turmoil far too much. “I’ll join them; maybe I can convince the stubborn horse to get out.”
Clothes dressed my body as I walked out of the kitchen, sending back my robe to my chamber. The linen shirt was covered by a mantle with tassels, woven in double folds. My legs were covered by thicker breeches, the winter wind already settling.
As I got out of the cave, dark clouds shimmered in the sky, the scent of rain clinging in the air. My head turned towards the sound of hooves hitting the ground.
Around the cave, a stable, high as my stallion, was packed with hay for the winter. The horse was galloping around it, the boy holding it by the mane. Seeing that, I ran to them, stopping the movement with my hand.
“Boy! Get down now!”
Seeing his pale face and his swollen eyes awakened something within me. I was scared for his life. That stallion was not meant to be ridden by fragile humans. For the second time in my immortality, I felt fear for someone other than me.
Eugen’s fragile body slid elegantly from the saddle, his feet creating a thump as dust flew around his legs.
“What were you thinking?” I asked, rushing to his side. “It could have thrown you!”
I felt my pulse in my ears; my breath was as wild as the stallion’s gallop. Kneeling in front of the boy, I pressed my fingers lightly all over his body.
“I am not hurt, Mr Goat Man,” the boy whined, trying to escape from my hands.
“Fine, but don’t come crying later,” I rasped, taking a step back.
His large amber eyes searched my face. “Will you tell me another story, Mr Goat Man?”
“I have a name, you know. You can call me Tiberius,” I suggested, my hand touching his shoulder.
Eugen pouted his lips, his long, ink lashes touching his stained cheeks. “Tiberius…” he tried.
“Alright, now let’s tell you a story.” I guided the boy to the outskirts of the forest, showing him every type of bird which circled the sky. The wind made it hard for them to fly, their wings flapping in vain.
The branches rattled above our heads, foreshadowing the storm. A lightning bolt split the ink sky in two, thunder following suit. Still holding Eugen’s shoulder, I felt him trembling from the noise.
With my mind, as soon as raindrops fell, I cast a shield over us, avoiding every unpleasant part of the storm.
“How about the story that everybody knows?” I suggested, taking my hand off his shoulder.
“Is it scary?” he inquired, his eyes watching the trees above us.
“Yes,” I whispered, the answer travelling in the wind.
He took a seat on the ground, dirt covering his white breeches. Crossing his legs, his ears were perked, and his hands barely stopped moving.
“It was the night of The Girls’ Fair, long before I took Ana and Andrei to join me.
I watched how everyone danced and laughed, how they indulged in wine and food.
Children were everywhere, running through the intertwined hands of their parents while they danced the hora.
And that was the first time I felt…jealous of them. ”
“What do you mean? Couldn’t you drink? Eat? Dance?” he asked, his eyes widening.
“No, Eugen, it was not that.” I shook my head, sitting next to him.
While I collected the words in my head, I looked at Ana’s old house. Smoke came from their horns; her family was already heating the house. How much she and I have changed in the past months.
Recollecting myself, I scratched my chin. “I was jealous of their heart.”
“You don’t have a heart?” His voice sounded mesmerised.
I shook my head slowly, thinking of all I had left behind that day. Images of the children I left orphaned that night played behind my eyes.
“No, in a way, it is traded for immortality.”
He nodded, understanding what my power meant. “But Ana, she still feels and acts as if she had one,” he countered, placing his hands over his chest.
My beautiful Ana. Still kind, still loving every breath she took, still believing in God.
“Her soul, besides what I made her do, is still hers. Just as it was before joining me.”
His eyes drank in the dark sky, the rain avoiding our little shield, creating puddles before us.
“Can you continue the story, Mr Go…Tiberius?” he asked, in a sweet voice.
I complied, my gaze shifting from him towards the centre of the village.
“While everyone enjoyed themselves, I watched as the orchestra continued to play, the feet of people stomping the grass to the music’s rhythm.
The green-eyed monster grew slowly, my eyes circling on the soul I should have taken that night.
But a boy, no younger than you, came behind me and asked me who I was.
I did not know my real name. Everything was a blur except my siblings’ bloodied faces.
That image and the jealousy I felt cursed me to take more than one soul. ”
“How many?” the boy asked, his head tilted, a frown on his forehead.
“Too many. Enough to turn half of my eyes blue,” I whispered, regretting that I left children to fend for themselves. A sin nobody could absolve me of.
Silence stretched between us as his hands finally calmed down. A sign he was thinking about my words.
“And now?” he whispered.
“What do you mean by that?”
He cleared his throat, his eyes almost bulging from their sockets. “Do you still feel jealousy towards people?”
I sighed, not sure about the answer.
It didn’t occupy my mind as often as it did. Not since Ana stepped foot into my lair, swirling around Andrei and me and gaining us with her wit, questions and purity. Though the wish to be like them still existed, just for an undeniable reason.
“Yes, but only for one thing,” I answered truthfully. “To have a heart, to feel love. The other things like money, houses and lands pale in front of love.”
“That means you care about Ana?” the boy asked, a sheepish smile appearing on his lips.
It was much more than simple care. It felt as if I could lay the sun and the moon at her feet and protect her from every evil in this world.
Including me.
“So yes,” the boy concluded, seeing my undecided eyes.
I stood up, brushing dirt from my pants.
“You’re a smart boy, so keep your mouth shut until I know for sure,” I said, my tone harsher.
He squinted his eyes at me. “If you hold these feelings inside you, you might burst. And if it doesn’t get your way…”
The wisdom of this child surprised me.
“What do you want to say, Eugen?” I offered a hand to him.
He placed his small palm against mine, hoisting himself up. With a strong voice and hard eyes, he laid what was in my mind, but unspoken.
“Perhaps living so much time surrounded by death made you forget what life feels like.”
I took a deep breath and followed him home, the storm long gone. In its stead came the cold, autumn settling for good.
The feelings for her were more powerful than the Order itself. She knew the whole of me, as no one could. And even if the child had some truth to his words, I was not sure Ana would listen to my feelings.
There was a battle both within her soul and outside the lair.