The Golden Stag, Pt 1: Half-Mak Of York County
Story by TechTubbs on SoFurry
The start of a brand new Journey, The Golden Stag Starts here with Elijah Donovan running into that raccoon again.
The Golden Stag, episode one: Half-Mak of York County
Written by Jaeger Dominus
*That fucking Raccoon was in my yard again. Them, and the annoying Crow-looking bird. It was way too big to be just any crow, though. Why did I always see them together? *
I lived in a *rural neighborhood in the forests surrounding York. No, not the cool York in the UK, the boring small-town one in the US. The sky was always gray and rain made itself a pain in the ass whenever it felt like it. It was near Harrisburg, though, which was a cool city. The even cooler Hanover was nearby, where Snyder’s was made. They were great pretzels. *
*But the city of York? Meh. The only cool thing it had going was the life-sized Lafayette statue near the bus stop. That, and a few good places to eat. It was once the US capital for a while to boot. *
But what did I have to deal with? A big-ass bird and its sneaky little raccoon friend. No traps worked with it, I only had a bow and it always knew when I had it and when I didn’t.
*I hid my bow under the sink this time. Sneaking it into my grip, I hid around in my house and went into the garage. There was no one in there, not even a mouse. *
Stupid Night before Christmas. It was July.
*I opened the garage door and heard the scampering of paws and a cawing raven. I looked through the garage window. It saw me through it. *
*The door opened, I pulled my bow, and the crow shrieked. I turned to the noise outside, gasping for a breath, and then the Raccoon got into my garage. But my arrow shot wide from my fright. *
“Motherfucking Raccoon!” I yelled, grabbing the bow by one end and swinging it like a sword. “Git!”
*The raccoon darted. I swung again, missing it. Then I swung a third time, aiming for the little shits head. *
A puff of smoke, another shriek, and I cowered at the sound and confusion I experienced. Where did the smoke come from?
And why did my bow push back up?
Opening my eyes, I saw the raccoon had transformed into a woman about my age but wearing a protective breastplate, gauntlets on each hand and a basic chainmail protecting their arms and thighs. Little spikes of raccoon fur stuck out of the mail, and she looked pissed. Intensely so, with her eyes glowing like an inferno.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she jeered. “I’ll steal your heart now.”
With her free gauntlet she placed her hand to my chest, and instantly I felt a deep darkness within me spur forth. As if my heart stopped. Whatever she did, it certainly impacted my heartbeat, and the feeling of throbbing—
*“Stop!” *
*I saw a heart-shaped symbol in the raccoon’s hands as she retracted it. My knees buckled at the pain and I clutched my chest. The world grew faint and I felt myself slip away… only for the light and brightness to return, along with a fresh argument between two people in my neighborhood. *
*At first I worried my collapse was something wrong with my head, something I should have handled a while back and only now caught up to me. But when I looked outside my garage I saw a bright blue sky instead of the usual gray that accosted my town. *
And a barrier around the house, and within the barrier a woman with a crow’s head for a hat and a bunch of black feathers on her clothes, talking to the raccoon girl.
“You can’t do that!” She shouted, sounding just like the big crow’s cry. “You could have killed him.”
“I’m sorry, Corvid Mother,” the girl said, looking at the ground, “I didn’t know it would impact them like that.”
“That means he has such an intense soul for his heart to give out like that. We already knew that, but now you know how to properly defend yourself now, huh?”
“I stole hearts before—“
“But they put those bastards into depression. Only depression. This is no bastard. He could be the true half-mak of his family, the one with latent potential.”
“What are you two fucking talking about?”
They turned to look at me. I felt proud, since my brother was more a Mac than I was. But I knew that I had more potential than my brother, that bastard. I wasn’t a Donovan without having wasted potential. This curse followed our family through countless generations. But now? To hear I had even more of it wasted? That felt like a light to my ears.
Not.
“You tried to kill me you inexplicable fuck!”
The person called Corvid Mother shook her head. “Looks like he won’t be yours, honey.”
“What, like to kill me?”
The woman stared, without a word. “If you want answers, you must drink trackwater.”
I shrugged. “Sure, why not. I’ve already lost it. Let’s fucking go off to the insane asylum!”
*“You really are from a sailor lineage,” the raccoon girl said, but then recoiled from the Bird lady readying a slap. *
*Now, it was true I swore a lot. But I wasn’t going to let some poor girl that clearly regretted her actions be slapped. I ran out and stood between them. *
“Don’t hurt this raccoon– who are you?”
“I never said my name,” the raccoon girl replied. “I’m Tannie Kaya. You’re—“
“Elijah Donovan,” I said.
All Corvid Mother did was chuckle then laugh. “Oh, finally, the search is over. We found the Half-Mak of York county. Our contract is complete, thanks to you.”
I blinked. This county? What the hell did that mean?
“Remember, Elijah Donovan, if you wish to unlock your spirit, drink the dangerous waters. Works best if you drink from animal tracks. See you when you’re ready!”
Another puff of smoke, I blinked again. The two were gone, the gray sky back.
I regretted hunting the raccoon, making me feel a bit like a monster.
Liking the first episode? I'm eventually aiming to get this posted into a novel format on Kindle Unlimited, with a paperback edition! Stay tuned for the Golden Stag.
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See ya soon!
--Jaeger Dominus