Journey of the Horn

Chapter 1

When faced with hard times my people don't run. We stand together and we fight for ourselves, our friends, our families, and kingdom all at the same time whether in war or in everyday life. We live in a world called Endalashia. Very different from other worlds and very dangerous as well. "Never go in the Dark Forest." Mother would tell us children "Stay in the light." In our world the darkness is full of horrible beings that will eat a satyr or really anything other than themselves and their kind alive. There are also dragons, and although in other worlds dragons are considered friends they aren't here. If you see a dragon and can't run or hide fast enough you might as well cook yourself. But this time our enemy doesn't have a heart, head, or soul. This time our enemy is the cold.

My father is the Lord of the satyrs. Which in our culture means he is the king. I am the eldest of his sons with only three older sisters and over 100 younger siblings, and yes before you ask we all come from the same parents but we will get into that later. My full name is Nubian, Largithan, Dunbrong I am now 56 years old which is young for a satyr. You would think that my father would take it easy on his own children, well you'd be wrong. "NUBIAN GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE CLOUDS AND FIGHT!" He yells. Breaking me from my daydream as a sword was heading for me. I blocked it with my sword and kicked my sparing partner in the face with a roundhouse kick A satyr's kick is hard enough to break any skull even one reinforced with concrete. And a skull thick enough to battle a Buffalo.

We were in a arena, just me and one of our sergeants, with my father walking along the top of the arena. It looked like the kind that the Romans would use for gladiator fights. Stone walls and stands covered in moss with parts of it crumbling away, bars on top of the walls of the pit, dirt floors, and gates that went upwards like the gates to a castle with the sharp ends at the bottom. All of us are put through some sort of battle training. The girls typically go through Archery training while us boys go through Archery and hand to hand combat. We had a fairly strict training schedule. Every other day we would either have Archery or hand to hand combat. Today it was hand to hand. We would be sent into the arena with nothing but a sword, shield, and some armor. Other than that it was more like a fist fight mixed with kung fu. Mother was strict as well. Every day she would have the girls stitch something new. Some liked it while others couldn't despise it more.

The sergeant slowly stood back up on his feet and attempted to disarm me again. But he failed. I skimmed his hand with the blade of my sword catching on the guard of his own tossing the sword out of his hand, into the air causing it to flip before I grabbed the hilt placing one blade side on top of the other in a scissor type shape and pinning him to the ground. My father looked at me with slight shock but not much. I am the best sword fighter out of all of my brothers, he expected nothing less from me. "Very good, that will be all for today Nubian." Although strict, my parents were not cold hearted. You just had to know how to peel away the layers. I backed away placing the swords in one hand and offering the other to my partner. "You put up one hell of a fight today Helmorian." As I pulled him up with one arm holding my shield and the swords in the other. "Well I'm sure if I put more into it you would be the one on the ground right now." He replied as he walked away.

But this was usual for him. A older satyr that has seen many a battle yet my father refused to promote him or let him retire. Saying something along the lines of "he is the best Sergeant I have ever seen in my day, if he retires we may as well be damned." So here he stays training us kids. And yes I mean kids, Satyrs can live to be over 100,000 years old. So in the grand scheme of things I am considered a child. Yet even the oldest of Satyrs still looks young. The only thing about us that changes with age is the color of our hair. "HELM MASTER!" I hear being yelled right before I get tackled from behind by one of my best friends. Another Satyr named Himilayan also known as Himi or Small Horns. "Hey there Small Horns!" As I jump onto my back landing right on top of him, and knocking the wind out of him. I guess that is another thing I should mention, I am a foot over the average for Satyr men. I am 7'9" tall. Many find me intimidating, but Himi doesn't. In fact I have known him since we were about three years old. We used to always run in the south meadows at the base of the mountain, and swim in lake Calaspiana. In fact we still do when we aren't in training.