Heart of a Monster

“Hi-ya! You’re that minotaur girl that lives with Mr. Gray, right?” came a voice from behind Aridean. Startled, Aridean, leaning against a large tree behind the schoolhouse, raised her head from its hiding place buried in her knees and turned to face the owner of the voice. It was a young boy with short, blonde hair and common clothes; he had a bit of a goofy grin on his face. Aridean just sat silently looking back at the boy, eyes wide with surprise.

“Hey, hello? Oh! Maybe you speak Minoran? Mine’s not very good, but here goes: woon bei ti?” the boy said with amusement. Puzzled, Aridean’s mouth started to move.

“W-what--,” Aridean started before being cut off.

“Hey, you do speak English. So, what’s your name?” the energetic boy asked.

“W-what did you want to ask me?” Aridean asked, still confused.

“Your name, I’ve asked in two languages now, right? C’mon! I want to hear it,” the boy replied.

“But you asked, ‘where’s the milk’ in Minoran,” Aridean told the boy.

“I did? Ugh, Minoran is so hard. You think you could teach me sometime? I want to learn enough to at least have a conversation with a minotaur like you. Speaking of ‘you,’ will you answer my other question now?” inquired the oddly inquisitive boy. Aridean was stumped, why would anyone want to have a conversation in Minoran and with a minotaur no less. Nothing about this boy made any sense, but something about him was different and it made Aridean want to speak with him.

“M-my name’s Aridean Gray,” Aridean finally answered.

“Aridean? That’s a funny name,” the boy began to giggle a bit. “I’m Jean, Jean Hallon. I hope one day to travel the world and make a name for myself selling exotic art pieces.”

Strangely, Aridean did not feel uncomfortable around this boy as she did with the other kids. Jean sat himself down on the grass in front of Aridean, still smiling from ear to ear. The two kids began talking, rather it would be more accurate to say Jean began asking questions about random topics that Aridean would answer. Pets, family, favorite foods, and how Aridean maintained her mane were all subjects visited during their discussion. Aridean spoke with this Jean kid for nearly a full hour before realizing this was the first time she had enjoyed speaking with someone that was not her father. Time continued to pass as the two kids discussed various friendly topics and the shadow of the tree the two were under grew longer.

“Well, we should probably be going home before it gets too late,” Jean said, finally cutting off their chat.

“Y-yes,” Aridean agreed, hesitantly. The classmates stood up from their tree; Jean couldn’t help but point out how Aridean was almost twice as tall as him despite the pair having discussed that they were both only eight years old. Aridean didn’t mind the tease, if anything, she found Jean’s brand of messing with her to be refreshing. She hoped that Jean could keep talking to her and teasing her in his own way.

“Uh, J-Jean? Do you think we could, maybe… t-talk like this again?” Aridean asked nervously. Jean returned her look with a cocked head and befuddled look.

“Ari, why do you ask that?” Jean questioned. Aridean shook somewhat, feeling rejected by the first person to actually want to talk to her until he followed with, “We’re friends, right? Isn’t talking what friends do?”

Aridean’s nervousness faded in a matter of seconds having heard that from Jean; she even began to smile. This was the first time Aridean had heard anyone use that word to describe her. Friends, the whole idea had seemed completely foreign to Aridean this morning and here she was now.

“R-right! We’re friends… wait, Ari?” Aridean asked her new friend.

“It’s short for Aridean. I think it has a nice ring to it, too. I mean, if you prefer, I could call you Dean, but that doesn’t sound quite right,” Jean said smiling. Aridean returned his smile and thought about it for a while. This was the first time someone had called her something that was not insulting or hurtful. She was feeling confident that she could enjoy being called ‘Ari.’

That was eight years ago, and Jean has been by my side ever since. Aridean thought to herself, eyes locked on the locket Jean had protected for her. Darkness had engulfed the countryside and it had been raining for well over an hour. Aridean, soaked by the rain, slowly trudged along the long dirt path home. After reaching the top of the hill where she had encountered the carriage from the morning, she could see the lights of her farmhouse. Upon seeing her home, Aridean shook a little remembering that she promised to be home before the sun went down that day. Would father be upset that she was out so long given her circumstances?

“Get a move on, it’s late, it’s raining, and I’ve gotta get back to the doctor,” came a voice from behind Aridean. Jean’s father, Mr. Hallon, was accompanying Aridean home, though not as friendly about it as Jean would have had he been there. Jean’s father was a little younger than Aridean’s father, but much more vocal and forceful. Mr. Hallon had never expressed much sympathy for Aridean, not like Jean. Given his son wanted to make friends with a minotaur, he had actually adopted a reluctantly tolerant attitude toward her. However, that tolerance was nowhere to be found today. With a solemn look on her face, Aridean continued her trek home.

Aridean and Mr. Hallon eventually reached the farm, the patter of rain on the roof drowned out the bleating of all the sheep that had been moved into the darkened barn. Aridean’s hooves were caked in mud, and she doubted that Mr. Hallon’s boots faired much differently. The pair ascended the stairs to the front porch, finally clear of the cold rain. Aridean reached for the doorknob to her home, but Mr. Hallon stopped her and angrily banged on the door. Any sound inside the house could not be heard over the rain coming down and after a few seconds of waiting, Mr. Hallon banged on the door again. Finally, the door swung open to reveal Aridean’s father. He looked both Aridean and their guest up and down, as though studying the pair, his tired expression never leaving his face.

“Simon, we need to talk about your ‘daughter,’” Hallon spoke, not even giving Aridean’s father the chance to invite the two inside. “My son has taken a serious blow to the head because of this one! He’s still at the doctor’s, unconscious!”

Simon Gray, Aridean’s father, listened to Mr. Hallon’s statements. However, as if ignoring the furious ravings of his guest, Simon spoke, “Aridean, why don’t you clean your hooves and go to your room while I speak with Mr. Hallon.”

“No! She needs to hear this too! She needs to know just what she--,” Mr. Hallon began to shout before being cut off by Simon.

“Aridean, go on,” Simon said softly, his expression never having changed. Aridean began to speak, she wanted to tell them what had actually happened that led to Jean’s injury, but nothing would come out. Mr. Hallon had made it absolutely clear he didn’t want to have any conversation with her to begin with. Without the ability to speak her mind, Aridean nodded silently and wiped her hooves with a small towel by Simon’s mud-caked boots sitting next to the front door. Without a word, she then retreated into her room, the wooden floor creaked underneath her now mostly clean hooves. Closing the door behind her, she noticed a fresh set of clothes sitting on her bed for her along with Mott. Upon seeing Aridean enter the room, Mott hopped up on her three legs and made her way to Aridean where she began sniffing and licking Aridean’s wet furred legs. Although still drenched from the rain, Aridean could not even think about cleaning herself up. If anything, she wanted to know just what her father and Jean’s were discussing in the front room.

“I’m done with this Simon,” boomed Mr. Hallon’s voice from out in the living room. Aridean was taught eavesdropping was rude, but she just had to know how badly her father was to be reprimanded for what she was indirectly responsible for. To that end, Aridean quietly cracked open her bedroom door and simply listened to the conversation going on in the other room.

“I’m sick of having to deal with this Simon! The whole of Thellia feels the same! This is precisely why we can’t have her around; people are bound to get hurt,” Mr. Hallon shouted. “Finally, it’s happened, and it was my son!”

“What happened to Jean?” Simon asked softly, exuding an aura of patience despite the situation he found himself in.

“That beast knocked him against a stone wall, he’s been out cold for several hours now! A group of boys saw it happen and plenty of villagers saw her running him to the doctor’s,” Mr. Hallon answered. It seems that Reil had already dispensed his version of the ‘truth’ to the village, not that it mattered. No one was going to believe Aridean except Jean, and he was unable to attest to her innocence. Even so, Aridean still felt she was responsible for what had happened. Jean would not have been hurt if he was not trying to defend her.

“We’ve all put up with her long enough, you of all people should know that you can’t trust minotaurs! They’re bloodthirsty savages, the whole lot of ‘em! Why else you think they’ve got that damn rebellion going on in an otherwise peaceful nation,” Hallon continued, piling on why the village despised the minotaur people. “You know better than anyone what those monsters are capable of.”

“Don’t you call Aridean a monster when you don’t know her, or minotaurs for that matter,” Simon warned sternly. His decision to stand by Aridean only angered Hallon further.

“Do you need me to say it? Maybe it’s the wake-up call you’ve needed since you moved to Thellia with that thing! Listen up Simon: Aridean is dead! She’s gone and you know damn well it was a minotaur that did it,” Hallon shouted. Aridean gasped having heard Hallon mention her name, even though it was clear he was not referring to her. Tears began to well up in her eyes again and her heart ached in her chest. Mott pawed at Aridean’s pant leg, concerned for her owner. Mott’s head cocked to one side and her tail flicked from side to side waiting for Aridean to acknowledge her. Simon had fallen silent after hearing Hallon’s proclamation. Hallon heaved a heavy sigh before speaking again.

“Simon, the village has put up with one of those things living here because of the man you use to be. What changed you? You don’t owe the minotaurs anything. After what they did to your family, I can’t fathom why—,” Hallon had started up again with a more passive tone of voice.

“Send me the bill for the doctor,” Simon finally said, having cut Hallon off. He then took a swig of alcohol from a flask on the dining room table. “I’ll have a word with Aridean.”

“You’ll have—you’re just going to have a talk with her, as though you really are that thing’s father? What good will that do to one of those things? Are you even listening to yourself anymore?” Hallon retorted without any patience left, obviously unconvinced that his words were getting through to Simon. Simon had fallen silent again, or rather, Aridean just couldn’t hear what her father was saying at that point.

“Fine then! But you’re going to keep her out of the village and away from my family from now on! I don’t ever want to see that creature again,” snapped Hallon, seemingly having been rebuffed in some way by Simon. “How the mighty Crusader Captain of the Empire has fallen.”

With that final insult, Hallon left through the front door out into the rain that continued to shower the countryside. Simon sat at the dining room table for a while, motionless like a stone statue. After some time had passed, Aridean questioned whether she should come out and speak with him or if staying away and giving the man some space would be the better option. Finally, Simon threw his head back with his flask at his lips. He downed the rest of the alcohol he was drinking and returned the flask to the table before standing. Upon seeing her father stand and turn toward the bedrooms, she quickly shut the door in an effort to hide the fact that she had heard everything. Slowly, Simon made his way to her room as she moved back toward her bed. Aridean curled up by the side of her bed, some rainwater still dripping from her horns and mane onto her bedroom floor. Her long tail sat in a small puddle of water that had dripped off her. Mott had returned to Aridean’s bed; the black cat had realized that Aridean was in no mood to play and decided to curl up on her bed and nap. Aridean could hear Simon’s footsteps outside getting closer to her door. Once she was certain he was on the other side of her bedroom door, the footsteps had ceased. Things had fallen silent, save the rain hitting the window of the bedroom. It felt as though an hour had passed before Aridean heard a knock at her door.

“Aridean,” came Simon’s voice, speaking with a softness that he had always used when addressing Aridean when she was little. “I know you heard all that. May I come in?”

Aridean was unable to respond, she had just fallen silent as she was stuck in thought. No matter how hard she tried to focus herself, she could not speak to her father nor stand to open the door. Aridean sat there at her bed with an expression on her face that exuded desperate anxiousness, immense regret, and extreme fatigue all at once.

“Aridean, I’m coming in,” Simon said, as he did the doorknob to Aridean’s room began to turn. Her father then pushed the door open and he entered the bedroom to the sight of a rain-soaked minotaur curled up in a fetal position on the floor. With just one look, Simon heaved a weary sigh and moved to stand before the minotaur.

“Aridean, I--,” Simon began.

“Why? Why do you do this?” Aridean asked, voice shaking in anticipation of her father’s answer. Her vague question, however, seemed to make perfect sense to Simon.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this,” Simon told Aridean.

“Why though? Why do you care? He’s right, you know. You don’t owe me anything. Minotaurs ruined your life, so why did you take me in?” Aridean inquired. Her father’s normal tired and somber expression seemed to reform into surprise for a second at the revised question. Simon took a moment to formulate an answer he deemed worth sharing, it was at this time that Aridean had begun to look up at him as he thought.

“I owe you so much more than you could imagine,” Simon said, his gaze had focused out the window on the rain falling in the dark night as he was seemingly lost in thought over what his own answer meant. Aridean could not help but find the answer puzzling and even felt a bit hurt by it.

“What are you talking about? You don’t owe me anything at all. You’ve told me all about it before, how minotaurs took everything from you. Why do you do this to yourself?” Aridean gestured toward her own body as her way of asking why Simon allowed her to live with him. “You were a legend in the Empire’s military. But in an instant, that vanished. Why though? Someone like you is capable of so much, yet you decided to raise me despite what others would think. What’s weirder, you saved a minotaur; one of those beasts that killed your family!”

“Aridean, you are not a beast,” Simon said with a stern voice. “You are my daughter.”

“W-what? How can you even say that? Doesn’t it hurt? I’m not your daughter! I’m just an animal that has only caused you trouble! The people of Thellia see it, surely you do too. There’s no reason you should continue to suffer for me,” Aridean exclaimed, voice slowly rising in volume. She had begun to stand on her hooves again, but her tear-filled eyes focused solely on Simon.

“No one in Thellia could understand what we have,” Simon said, finally looking Aridean in the eyes again. He slowly lifted a hand toward her face to wipe away her tears. However, Aridean suddenly jerked back as his hand drew closer. Simon stopped upon seeing Aridean back away from him.

“What do we have exactly? Mr. Hallon is right: there’s nothing between us! We are not of the same blood, let alone even of the same race. I’ve always been a burden on you! Thellia would gladly have you here if it weren’t for me. Villagers are always talking about how great you use to be before I came along, and I’ve told you what villagers think of me. I’m just some monster walking through the village because of what minotaurs have done. I’ve had to put up with the whispers, bullying, rumors, shouting, and hatred because I was born a minotaur. People are always muttering things would be better if you had never found me or if I had just not been born! I never had a choice in any of this! You’re the one who has decided to live like this! What exactly do you think when look at me? Am I just a mistake that you never should have brought into your home or am I a deranged man’s idea of a trophy over the minotaurs that took your family?” Aridean had begun to cry and her voice had escalated to a shout, but Simon remained silent with his usual tired expression on his face. Aridean could not tell whether the man before her was exuding an air of patience or apathy, which confused and frustrated her further. Without thought or hesitation, Aridean shouted, “Maybe you do need to hear it! I’m not Aridean, I’m not your daughter. I’m just some minotaur that you keep that’s just hurting you.”

“Aridean, you--” Simon said, his voice unfazed by Aridean’s exclamation. Aridean moved past Simon and pulled open her bedroom door.

“I-I’m sorry,” she spoke before running through the front room. Aridean threw open the front door and returned outside, in the cold and dark, rainy night. Tears poured from her eyes like rivers, but it was hard to tell given all of the rain on her face as she ran from the porch toward the barn. The minotaur pushed open the barn door and entered the dark structure, throwing the door closed behind her. She ran toward the ladder that would take her to the loft of the barn. Once in the barn loft, Aridean curled up on the floor of the loft and began to sob. Sheep throughout the barn were bleating on the floor below her, but they could not drown out the depressed cries of the minotaur occupying the loft above.

After some time had passed, Aridean’s loud sobbing had diminished to sniffling and heavy breathing with occasional hiccups. While unable to fully collect herself, Aridean decided she would sleep in the barn loft tonight. She usually only did this if she was too tired and sleepy to head back to the house after working out, but today was different. Still soaking wet, Aridean removed her shirt and pants before covering herself in the quilt from the previous morning. Dressed in only her underwear, she felt cold as her fur was matted to her skin from all the rainwater that had assaulted her. As she cast aside the drenched clothes, Aridean heard a clinking sound from her soaked pants. Slightly surprised, the minotaur slowly moved to where she had thrown the wet pair of pants. She reached into one of the pockets to find that she had forgotten all about the locket she had bought her father for his birthday.

“F-father… I’m so sorry,” Aridean said, tears welling up in her eyes that had gone red from her previous cry. She held the locket close to her chest and sat on the loft floor with her back to a support beam.

“You have no reason to be sorry, Aridean,” came a voice from the loft ladder. It was Simon who had followed Aridean out to the barn. He too was wet, but nowhere near as much as Aridean. Aridean herself had nearly jumped out of her skin with surprise after her father revealed himself.

“Aridean, there’s a lot to talk about concerning what goes on between us,” he started as he approached Aridean. This time, Simon sat beside the minotaur and put a large bowl covered by a small cloth down on the floor in front of them, a familiar smell emanated from the bowl. He then pulled a backpack off his back and opened the zipper.

“Father, I--,” Aridean tried to speak, but was cut off.

“Aridean, please let me speak. I’ve been on this earth for many years, and I’ve made many, many mistakes across those years. Many of those mistakes haunt me to this day and I do not know if I will ever be given the opportunity to make amends,” Simon spoke while pulling a fresh set of clothes from his backpack for Aridean. “I know there are a great many regrets that I will have to take with me to the grave, but I can’t let you resenting yourself to be one of them.”

Aridean remained silent, accepting the fresh change of clothes from her father as he held them out to her. The minotaur was simply entranced by the display that the man was putting on at that moment in time, she couldn’t even think of what to say to her father. Simon then pulled a spoon and a hairbrush from the backpack. He passed the spoon to Aridean and gestured to the bowl on the floor. Upon picking up the spoon, Aridean realized the familiar smell was her father’s pork stew, her favorite.

“You and Hallon both said it: Aridean is dead. My blood daughter is gone, and I’ll never hear her laugh or cry again. That isn’t something someone can just… move on from; not a day goes by where I wish I could hold her one more time,” Simon said as he began to stare into empty space ahead of him. “Perhaps one of my many mistakes was burdening you with the ghosts of my past when I gave you her namesake. But I want, no, I need you to know one thing without a doubt…”

Simon turned to look Aridean in the eyes before finishing his thought, “When I look at you, I see one decision I made where I am certain that it could never be a mistake. You are my daughter, even if we don’t share blood or race. We don’t need those to call one another family, Aridean. I have called you my daughter since the day I found you and I will continue to call you my daughter until the day I die. A life without you in it isn’t worth living to me.”

Having professed his feelings regarding their situation, Simon pulled a short wooden stool up and had Aridean, still draped in her quilt, turn her back to him. As Aridean began eating the pork stew he had provided, Simon began to brush Aridean’s mane with the hairbrush. Simon’s stew was delicious, the rich and creamy stew blended with tender cuts of pork in a way that Aridean found irresistible. Aridean thought about the scene playing out in the barn loft and realized they had not discussed something like this since her first day at school when she was younger, and it played out in about a similar manner. Simon may have changed over the years from a respected and high-ranking Crusade Captain to a simple shepherd, but he remained resolute in the face of Aridean’s overwhelming existentialism regarding the struggles the two faced living together. Aridean was halfway through her meal when she felt a new tear roll down her cheek. A smile crept across the minotaur’s face as the tear dripped off her face and into her stew. She then set the bowl aside and reached for her locket.

“Father, I’m sorry it’s late a-and it isn’t something that you might get much use from, but… happy birthday,” Aridean nervously spoke as she turned to Simon and offered the locket. Simon looked the locket over once and gave a warm smile. He had never struck Aridean as the sentimental type, but his face told her everything she needed to know.

“Aridean, I love it,” Simon said as he took the locket.

Aridean smiled and hugged her father before returning to her stew. Simon continued to brush her mane as she ate the dinner he had prepared hours ago. Despite it having gone cold some time ago, Aridean still desired a second bowl. She had forgotten how hungry she had been and was overjoyed to be eating her father’s cooking. Time passed and the two decided they would return to the farmhouse to retire to their beds for the night. Aridean dressed herself in the fresh change of clothes, but not before noticing Simon inspecting the white fur pattern on her back. It wasn’t the first time he had seen it, but something about her back always seemed to put him into deep thought. Aridean did not want to say something that might ruin the otherwise salvaged evening and moved with her father down the ladder to the barn floor. The duo exited outside the barn where the heavy rain had slowed to a calm drizzle. Aridean followed Simon back up the porch steps and into their home where she then wished her father good night. Aridean returned to her bedroom and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Having concluded her cathartic evening, Aridean climbed into her bed feeling both mentally and physically exhausted. She turned off the lamp on her nightstand and closed her eyes.

“Everything is going to be okay. Like father said: we don’t need blood or race to be family,” Aridean whispered to herself, another smile made its way across her face in the dark bedroom. Feeling good about her place in her father’s life, Aridean slipped into a deep sleep there in her warm bed.