Prologue 

   A cool breeze swept through the trees overhead as I made my daily rounds. The clacking of hooves against the well placed stones was calming, hypnotic, even. My family and I, as well as many others, live in a small village right next to a large kingdom, ruled by the fire giant, King Eirunn. 

   The water in the bucket swirled around, some jumping out occasionally. I walk on, farther and farther away from the stream, and closer to my family’s tavern. It’s a small business, but it is loved and well known throughout our village, though it’s not too hard to be known in this tiny area.

 My hooves go from the stone to stone path to the continuous river of brick. The sun caresses my face when I step out of the thick trees, into the light of the grove. The orchard might be the largest part of our village. As much as I love the orchard and the trees in it, I’m glad it’s not my job to water them. The poor souls who water the orchard take all day and usually have their lunch delivered to them. My job, on the other hand, is just to bring the buckets from the stream, to the water cans, and fill them. It allows me time for my learning, which I do from home. Everyone in our land does, a school was never established in the valley. I finish pouring out the water and set out a course for the tavern, trotting the entire way.

Chapter 1

   The door slowly swings open, revealing a lively crowd. There are satyrs, fauns, centaurs, halflings, and elves alike. We may be a small number, but we are a large variety. It’s louder than a hive full of bees, and smells great, too. I reckon my father’s cooking a feast, it’s been a lovely season for food, abundant and bountiful. I don’t think we’ve had this great of a season in all the years I’ve been alive. It’s truly a time to celebrate. With the way things have been, the peace, calm, and all the joy, it feels as though nothing can go wrong. I let my nose lead me to what's behind the bar, the aroma filled kitchen. As I thought, my dad is handling way too much at once. There's a pig over a fire, vegetables being roasted, bread being cooked, drinks mixing, and desserts baking.

   I walk up behind him and tap his shoulder. “Hey Dad, I’m here to help.”, the sudden sound of my voice startles him and he jumps up, his hooves clicking together. “Hey there, Apollo!”, he turns around and gives me a smile as bright as the god I’m named after, “How were your chores?” I love the fact that, no matter what it is, my father is always genuinely interested, “Good, same as always, how’s the cooking going?”, “Oh, you know, just cooking for pretty much the entirety of our village, same old, same old, thanks for coming to help!”, I flash him a grin “No problem.”.

   Soon enough, everything’s cooked, the customers are fat and happy, and the night is starting. Once everyone has left, we lock the front doors, clean up where it is needed, and head upstairs. My father and I meet up with my mother and sister, who had gone up a little before us. 

   “Hello, you two.”, my mom greets us from the living room, “Hey, idiot” my sister turns her head to face my direction, not long after, Mom gives her a snarky look “What did I say about talking like that?”, my sister turns away and rolls her eyes, “Sorry, Mom.”. I can’t help but let out a snort at my family’s interactions. Once again, my sister’s goat-like eyes stare at me, beckoning me to sit down. I go over, and establish my own place next to her, careful not to sit on my tail. 

   I decide to be quiet and soak it all in as my family catches up, talking about their days,all together enjoying each other’s company. My mom shows us a bowl full of different berries, blackberries, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and tells us where she found each one of them, my sister, on the contrary, tells us about her training, and the opponent she went up against today, apparently a halfling that she is good friends with. She imitated her own moves, butting her head forward in a way that would allow her horns to dig into the flesh of the other fighter. Luckily, all horns are covered in a foamy material during training, the least horns of any kind could do in those is give someone a bad stomach cramp. Once she’s finished, my Dad tells us all about the horn sharpening and shining he got done today, moving his head from side to side to show off his curving ram horns.

    We’re all fauns in my family, my Mom is a cow, same as me, my father a ram, and my sister is a mix between the two. She sports goat horns, goat-like pupils, a cow tail, and patterns on the skin and hair similar to that of a cow’s. I care for my family deeply and wouldn’t trade them for the world. We finish chatting, and eventually decide it’s time to hit the hay.