Rukiaa

Occasionally a fellow goat would go missing and the rest of them simply would not care. They just carried on eating and walking and sleeping. 

And that routine went on perfectly until Milo himself was the one who went missing. A burly man purchased him and instead of sending him to goat-heaven, he insisted on carrying Milo around with him wherever, because, supposedly, Milo’s fur offered “comfort” and “stability”. Milo really wanted to bite that man’s ass someday.

And that’s pretty much how Milo ended up in the arms of a tall and dark human who was squeezing him like crazy and talking in Milo’s ear. Milo wanted to get out of there. Instead, Milo kept still, sitting in between that tall man and two others; a male with a stick and a smaller female, and the burly man. Milo was having no fun, but at least, it looked like the other four weren’t taking any pleasure in their situation either.

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Milo’s fate changed when the tall man decided to grab him and drag him with them instead of leaving him inside the disgusting creature that the humans referred to as “transportation”. Milo didn’t know if it was good or bad luck. He didn’t care either. He was a goat and the matters of fate didn’t concern him.

The dark-skinned man, who he later learned, was named Jesper, was obsessed with Milo. He was carried along as the three humans continued their journey, to the cane-man’s -Kaz- disapproval;

“It’s a goat, Jesper.”

“My point exactly! He’s a soft and kind goat who doesn’t complain and understands me perfectly.”

If Milo could speak, he would probably comment on the understanding Jesper part. He bleated instead. Jesper pointed at him in approval and so they continued along.

Milo left the gang when they reached a city. Was it the capital? It was larger than he had ever seen. So many buildings, yet wide streets and not that many people. Maybe it wasn’t the capital. He had heard once that the capital was scary. But this was not.

“Bring the goat.”

“Its name is Milo.” Jesper retorted as he handed Milo to Kaz. The two seemed to never agree on Milo’s name but they somehow never seemed angry about it. It reminded Milo of his relationship with his brothers and their play-fighting. 

And that was how Milo ended up in a stranger’s hands and Jesper was standing above him, saying goodbyes and tying a bullet around his neck. Milo let out a weak bleat as the man turned away. He hadn’t realised until then that it mattered to see him go. He was sad to be left behind.

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His life progressed more naturally after that. He was put into a barn along with other goats. He learned he was in Balakirev, not the capital after all. He tried to acquaint himself with the other goats… 

He was left with an odd feeling of unfulfillment. He was destined for greater things than sitting and munching grass! The other goats stopped paying him attention when he asked about where they had come from or where in the world they had happened to be, and Milo soon decided to stop paying any attention to them too. 

He didn’t care if it was out of spite or boredom that one day he wandered too far off the grounds and got lost in the nearby woods.

He had found a place where the fence was loose in his many midday explorations of the plain and gradually he had grown more daring in slipping out. He always made sure to be back by the time they were all ushered inside. Nights were cold.

As the sun fell he unconsciously went after the small light and warmth he felt in the distance that proved to be a bonfire. 

Two humans were sitting around it, their backs slightly turned to Milo. They both turned around, suddenly alert as the goat moved some branches after losing his step. 

Milo froze. He felt like two predators were closing in. The man had a knife out and the woman had spread her hands wide. Even though she wasn’t holding a weapon, Milo felt oddly more threatened by her than by the large man next to her.

A millisecond later they both exhaled loudly, falling back to laughing and Milo stepped slowly to the back. His instinct both urged him to run and stay put. 

“It’s just a goat.” The woman said with a smile. She extended her hand, beckoning Milo to come closer. “Hi goat!”

“But what is it doing here?” The man next to her had lowered his knife but still seemed troubled by his appearance. “In the forest, in the middle of the night?”

“Calm down, Matthias. What is it going to do to you?” The woman stood up and approached him slowly. Milo didn’t bother running away. 

“How odd.” She muttered, her fingers tangling around Milo’s bullet necklace. “Where did you run away from Milo?”

Nina didn’t expect an answer so Milo just bleated in response.

The duo seemed to be good enough company. They were heading towards the sea in hopes to make it to Kerch grounds before anyone noticed them. Milo didn’t really have a choice but tagging along.

Nina never got tired of petting Milo’s head and talking to him, mainly of the Fjerdans, and most of all of the one sitting next to her and occasionally cutting into her monologue. 

“... So, at that point the ice broke and that doofus had the nerve to save me. You hear, Milo?” She paused to bite on her cake. “The nerve!” She pointed at her friend, her eyes wide, betraying her fondness.

“You should be grateful, witch.”

“Oh, I’m eternally in your debt, your highness.” Nina mock-bowed and finally Matthias cracked a smile.

Where Nina was easy to please, stocking up on sweets every time they passed through a village and talking and petting and approaching Milo with no second thought, the tall blonde posed a mystery to Milo.

The Fjerdan seemed to be wary of him which was something the goat had never experienced before. Matthias was constantly watching him but wasn’t attentive of him in the same way Nina followed him around. He didn’t talk to Milo, only referred to him when he had to.

Milo was oddly annoyed at his inability to charm the blond.

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Milo bleated and Matthias looked at him in confusion. The two of them were standing outside a market that Nina had chosen to scavenge for sweets. 

Milo bleated again and Matthias shifted uncomfortably. The goat was starting to enjoy the way the big man tensed.

Their one-sided convo, though, was interrupted by Nina’s loud laugh.

“Oh, come on Druskelle don’t tell me you’re scared of a goat.” She teased as she approached, her bag once again full.

“I’m- I’m not scared of it!” Matthias was quick to retort. “It’s just that… it’s a weird goat, don’t you think? What kind of normal goat follows humans around and bleats when you ask it something.” 

“It’s just a goat.” 

“Witches like you worship much less.”

The female laughed. “You don’t know that much of our history.”

“I know enough to realise that literally everything became a Saint at some point.” 

“Lies.” The girl stuck out her tongue, reaching to pat Milo in between his ears. “Saint Milo the goat.” She muttered nonchalantly and the male laughed, momentarily forgetting about his goat introspections. 

The two continued bickering, not refraining to send fond looks at each other. Milo had long realised that was their natural form of communication.

Still, that small sentence was enough to change Milo’s perspective. For once in his life he had a goal, a purpose… because, why not?! 

Milo was going to become a Saint.

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