Meldan couldn't wait to get out of this car. The young centaur had been stuck on the back bench of the car as they were driving southwards for the past three hours. He had rarely been in this part of the country. Gone were the seemingly endless flat and open meadows of Hållän; in its place were the forest filled green hills of Upper-Batavia. It surely looked like a lovely place to live. He wondered why his friend had ever left this place. Maybe for the same reason why he left his own picturesque home town of Posbank…
"Still feeling comfy back there?" the driver said to him.
"Ugh, I'm getting cramps if I stay in this car for any longer, Fedor!" Meldan replied.
"Don't worry, we're almost there. Just hang in there for five more minutes."
"About time. I really need to stretch my legs…"
The driver was a black coated minotaur, his best friend, Fedor. He was the reason why they were out here on such a long drive, and he wanted to show Meldan his hometown on a special occasion. The two of them were already underway since 6 o' clock in the morning in order not to be in time for the festivities. Fedor had told Meldan it was important to be on time for the formalities. What kind of formalities he hadn't told Meldan yet…
Meldan felt the road surface change from asphalt to gravel, and the bumping and shaking of the car became a lot less comfortable for him, especially when he was seated sideways on the back couch. He would've tolerated this much better on a special front-facing centaur-fit car seat like he had in his car, but Fedor didn't have any of such seats installed in his car, so they had to use this improvised solution. The car came to a halt in what looked like a small parking lot.
"We're here," Fedor said. "Time to sniff some freedom, stallion!"
Meldan opened the door and crawled out of the car. He felt some cramps in his legs, but stretching them felt so good after having to sit still for hours.
"I hope we can stay over here for the night," he said.
"Yeah, I arranged something with my parents, don't worry," Fedor said.
"Good. Because I don't think I can handle driving another three hours back home today."
"Right, before we go, we need to get dressed properly first." Fedor gestured Meldan to the trunk of his car.
"What? You didn't tell me about any dress code!"
"I wanted it to be a surprise. I've got something for you."
He opened the truck, and Meldan saw two sets of clothing laying side by side.
"The set on the left is yours," Fedor said. "Now take off your shirt and change into these."
"But these clothes look like some mediaeval fashion. I'll look weird."
"Trust me, you'll look even stranger if you don't wear this."
Slightly reluctantly, Meldan took off his shirt, and put on what looked like a jade green segmented skirt, held together by a white band. The clothes Fedor had given him showed clear signs that they were specially tailor made for him, and the craftsmanship was very apparent when he spotted an image embroidered in his skirt: an image of a wooden wheel.
"Oh wow, you've got the wheel from my family crest in there!"
"Yes, and your entire attire is in your traditional family's colours, just like mine." Fedor shows his own attire. He had a grass green skirt with a three leaf clover embroidered in it, held together by a yellow band. He was also wearing a green tunic and a leather band for a steel shoulder pad with a clover engraved on it.
"You've got your own as well."
Meldan put on his blue tunic, and saw that his shoulder pad had the same wooden wheel engraved on it.
"I must say, this looks like quality craftsmanship," Meldan said. "It feels quite comfortable to wear."
"I know the best in town, hehe," Fedor said. "I ordered these months ago. Didn't tell them for whom it was meant, just 'a friend'."
"How much did it cost you? It looks expensive…"
"Don't worry about that, it's a gift. Besides, I did owe you for the archery equipment you bought for me."
"Oh yeah, that's true. Yeah, I wanna make sure you weren't getting some cheap garbage that would break too quickly."
"The things you do to have fun with friends together… Come on! We need to introduce ourselves to the Shepherd before the festivities begin."
"Let me guess: it's etiquette?"
"Of course. It would be rude as a guest not to introduce yourself to the host. I hope he won't mind a centaur joining the festivities…"

They walked into the town ahead of them. The timber framed buildings made Meldan remind him of his old home town of Posbank. This town looked at first glance to be stuck in a more romantic past, and yet here and there you saw glances of modern times having found their way in here, as the wall-mounted lamps hinted there's electricity here as well. Overhead there were many flag garlands spanned between the houses, and Meldan heard music in the distance. Most of the crowd was up ahead in the town's central square. A minotauress approached them as they approached the crowd.
"Fedor! Good morning!" she said, and opened her arms.
"Maia, good to see you!" he said, as he embraced her. "It was a long way from Hågeth. How's life?"
"Good, good, Dalonor finally accepted me into the blacksmith apprenticeship. Now I can do some real work in the shop, not just administration and sales."
"The old bull's still wielding the hammer around the shop? I'm impressed!"
"So, who's he over there?"
"Oh, that's Meldan. I told you about him, no?"
"Ah yes, your best friend, right?"
"Yup. Meldan, this is Maia, my little sister."
"Nice to meet you," Meldan said, as she shook her hand.
"Welcome to Hydefeld, Meldan! My brother has told me a lot about you. Didn't know you were a centaur."
"You didn't tell her?"
"Errr… well, it was never relevant, eh? Say Maia, can you tell me where the Shepherd is?"
"Oh, just follow me. Bodemir is in his seat in front of the Shepherds Hall."
The three of them were finding his way through the crowd of minotaurs. For Meldan, this was quite a strange experience, as for once he was not towering above the crowd. He got a few stares along the way, but had been expecting that. Being the only centaur amongst minotaurs made him stand out clearly. He was treading carefully, hoping that he wouldn't hit someone with this lower body, but they finally made their way to Shepherd Bodemir, who sat on a wooden throne, decorated with beautifully crafted steel ornaments, elevated on a platform. The Sheperd was an elderly minotaur. Although his fur was getting grey, he still looked physically intimidating. On his head he was wearing a metal diadem with a ruby covering his forehead. He looked at them with a stern look.
"Good morning, my Shepherd," Fedor said. "May I present to you my introducé, Meldan Vagenor?"
"A centaur, Fedor?" the Shepherd said. "This is highly unusual. Tell me, does he know and respect our ways?"
"I'll teach him. I'm sure he's willing to adapt."
The Shepherd came out of his throne and walked towards Meldan with inspecting looking eyes. Meldan started to sweat.
"So, you got a lot of nerve to show yourself here," he said. "Tell me, what do you do for a living?"
"Oh, errr… I-I'm an engineer, sir," Meldan replied.
"An engineer? And a centaur… most unusual… and yet… it makes sense. Are you perhaps a colleague of Fedor?"
"Yes, yes, we're more than colleagues."
"More? What do you two do together?"
"Oh, we play in an amateur band, and we do archery training together."
"Archery… so there's a bit of a warrior in you after all."
"Yes sir, it's a tradition in my family. They always say you learn hunting in the forest the best with a bow and arrow, not with a gun."
"Wise words… And you taught Fedor how to shoot?"
"Yes sir, I did. For several years now."
"Well well, Fedor, I must say, you seem to have brought a honourable man here with you. At least you both honour the dress code and show up here on time. He'll get my blessings to participate in the festivities."
"Thank you, my Shepherd."
"Does he know what we're celebrating today?"
"Not yet, but I thought it's better to tell the story while I'm showing him around."
"Very well, then. Go now. The official opening is in twenty minutes, so be here then. And please, don't forget to enjoy yourselves today." the Shepherd winked.
Fedor and Meldan walked away from the Shepherd, who turned to the next guest in line to greet.
"Is he usually this inquisitive?" Meldan asked.
"I think you've just passed his trial," Fedor said. "Welcome to the herd."

They walked across the square. The place was filled with market stalls, showing products of the local trades and food. However, Meldan also saw a lot of cone shaped tents, which he recognised from images he has seen in books about nomadic peoples. The presence of these tents puzzled him…
"Fedor, what are those tents doing here?" Meldan asked. "Your people aren't nomads."
"Well… some of our ancestors were… That's what this is all about. Today we celebrate the peaceful joining of the tribes."
"So more than one tribe are living here?"
"Well, we've mixed over the centuries, but the tribe of the Three-leaved Clover, who have always lived here, actually took in four tribes from the Steppe People. Long ago, our ancestors lived as nomads on the steppes of central Asia. They had freedom, and nobody would bother them there. That was until the Mongols came. Some stood up and fought, but most fled westward. Our people call this the Great Migration. They were seeking refuge in Europe, but the cities and towns of mankind didn't want to lend a hand. Their only hope was to other minotaur tribes who had already settled there. Even they didn't want to take these strangers in. But some tribes were more willing to take the step. And my tribe, the Treklover tribe, was one of them, and I'm proud to be one of them."
"So these tents represent the nomadic tribes?"
"Yeah, they've lived in these kinds of tents for a long time after they arrived here. They had to give up their nomadic lifestyle and settle down here, and build their own houses. That's where the covenant comes in, where they agreed to contribute to the tribe and defend it and its traditions. Every minotaur town who took in Steppe People has a celebration like this one, the Festival of the Covenant."
"Wow! It's fantastic that a people known for being warriors have such a celebration about peace."
"Hehe, people often exaggerate the warrior part of our culture. We're social creatures, and peace amongst our people keeps us sane. Loneliness will drive us mad in ways you can't imagine."
"I'd go mad if I were to be lonely…"
"Not as mad as a minotaur. We'd literally turn feral. The Rage will take hold of us, and we become beasts. That's one of our biggest fears…"
"Good grief, that sounds very scary! I didn't know that."
"We don't really talk about it. It's kinda taboo… But you deserve to know as an outsider."
"Now that I think of it… all those stories of people claiming minotaurs are savages start to make sense. They're wrong… but I get where the idea came from…"
Meldan looked at his friend, who was trying his best to keep himself together.
"Oh sorry, I didn't say anything bad, did I?"
"No, it's not that… it's just… I lost a friend to the Rage when I was just a kid…"
"Semur's mercy, that's horrible! I hope he's in a better place now."
"Reyhek was always such a kind boy. Wouldn't harm a fly. But some bullies drove him into the Rage. He ran into the forest before he could be brought back to reason. They found his body at the bottom of a cliff a day later…"
Meldan held his crying friend close to him. He had rarely seen his friend this vulnerable, but it said a lot about the trust between them that he'd be willing to open himself up to him.
"There, just let it out," Meldan comforted him. "I feel sorry for you having to lose someone so early in life. I can remember how hard it was for me when I lost my grandpa a few years ago…"
"It's OK, I… I just needed a moment. I'm better now."
"Come, we shouldn't miss the opening of the festival."

They returned to the Shepherds Hall where a crowd had gathered in front of the building. The Shepherd had risen from his throne, and held a wooden staff in the air.
"My fellow herd members!" he addressed the crowd. "Today we celebrate that on this day, 662 years ago, a covenant was signed between the five tribes. It was from then on that the Treklover, Tadjik, Kyrges, Arali and Aqtobi tribes decided to live together as one in peace here in Hydefeld. This peace has lasted to this day and may it continue forever. We have been stronger together, and we've thrived through the centuries. And now, as a proud Shepherd of all five tribes, I declare the Festival of the Covenant to be opened!"
A loud cheer came from the crowd. Music began to play, and Meldan saw that people around him started dancing. It felt infectious, as Meldan couldn't resist to gently swing along with the music.
"Oh come on, Mel!" Fedor said. "Don't be shy! It's a party!"
Fedor didn't seem to hold himself back in any way, and Meldan tried to improvise his dance moves. Slowly he felt more at ease. Even though he was a stranger in the crowd, he felt like he was becoming one of them. When the song ended, and the crowd applauded, the Shepherd stood up from his throne.
"I've seen you all enjoyed the music played by the Silver Horns. They will be providing the music for today's open Mochag tournament."
The crowd applauded, but Meldan looked puzzled towards Fedor.
"What's Mochag?"
"It's a duelling sport. Fighting on the rhythm of the music. A battle dance, sorta."
"Sounds interesting…"
"Now, the honour of participating in the opening battle will be hand-picked by me, as always," the Shepherd continued. "And today, we have someone new who joined the herd and has something to prove. I'd like to appoint Meldan Vagenor, our new centaur herd member, as our first contestant, and Fedor Treklover to be his opponent."
The crowd murmured and looked at the two of them. Meldan was getting nervous.
"I… I don't know if I can do this, Fedor," he whispered.
"I think the Shepherd isn’t done testing us, apparently,” Fedor answered.
“But how does it even work?”
“I will explain to you on the way.”
They walked through the crowd to an open area between the tents. In it was a ring filled with sand, marked on the edge by stones.
“OK, Mochas is a fighting sport that’s not just about winning, but also style,” Fedor explained to Meldan. “So it’s important to fight with finesse. Each of us will get a stick. The goal is to hit your opponent with it below the waist. You should hold the stick with two hands, letting go with one hand will cost points, and you lose when you let go of the stick entirely. You also lose when you step out of the ring. Hitting on the head or hands is strictly forbidden. And each hit between the sticks or the final hit must happen on the beat of the music. That’s all there is to it. Got it?”
“I think so?”
“Just approach it as a dance. You don’t have technique yet, so we should go for style. Just start with mirroring my moves, and maybe you get into the groove, OK?”
“It’s better than no plan…”

They entered the ring, standing on opposite ends. They were handed a long wooden stick, and were gestured to approach each other in the middle. They held both their sticks pressed against each other. A crowd had gathered to watch, and the Shepherd was keeping an eye on the two of them. With all eyes on him, Meldan started to sweat. All they had to do now was to wait until the first drum beat hit…
*BAM!*
Meldan’s first response was to back off a step, and so did Fedor. Fedor swung his stick towards him, but there was enough time to block it. They clashed right at the third beat. And again. Block. Block. Step around. Block again. Their fight started to look like a dance.
“That’s it, you’re getting the hang of it!” Fedor said.
They exchanged some more swings, while the band began to play louder on the fiddle. And not once the two of them hit off-beat. Meldan was starting to enjoy this battle dance, prancing around in the ring.
“Oh, this is going pretty well,” he said.
“Want a bit more challenge?” Fedor asked.
“Bring it on!”
Fedor came with several swings that were harder to block for Meldan, who responded by moving around faster. But the challenge made it all the more fun for him. He was keeping up with Fedor, until…
*TAP!*
The music stopped. Fedor had managed to hit him on his right foreleg. He had lost the match.
“Fedor wins the match!” the umpire said, and he raised Fedor’s hand. The crowd cheered.
“YEAH, GO FEDOR!” they heard Maia shout.
“Let’s see what the jury has to say about the style.”
They turned to a trio of minotaurs sitting outside of the ring behind a desk: the jury. The first one raised a board above her head, revealing a large 4 painted on it.
“Is 4 a good score?”, Meldan whispered.
“It’s a scale from 1 to 6,” Fedor whispered back. “This is fine.”
The second jury member raised his board: a 2. The crowd booed.
“At least the crowd is with you,” Meldan whispered.
The final jury member raised his board: a 5. The crowd cheered loudly.
“11 points from the jury to the winner,” the umpire said. “Now, how did the jury judge his opponent?”
Meldan didn’t expect to get a score at this point. He watched the jury in anxiety. One by one they raised their boards again: 3… 2… 4…
“9 points for the challenger. Please give the kick-off duelists an applause!”
The crowd applauded them as they made a bow and left the ring for the next contestants to take part in the battle. Meldan took a quick look at the Shepherd; he was smiling approvingly at them. Maia jumped in Fedor’s arms.
“I knew you could do it!” she said.
“Thanks, but it was not that hard against a beginner,” Fedor said to her.
“Really, was this your first battle?” she said to Meldan.
“I didn’t even know what Mochag was ten minutes ago…” Meldan said.
“Well… not bad for a beginner…”

After their fight, Meldan noticed that the other minotaurs were treating him differently. No more were they looking strangely at him, but some of them came by for a chat. He met some of Fedor’s family and his old schoolmates. Him being a centaur barely came up in these conversations, apart from the one or two questions about his own heritage. He even managed to impress onlookers at the archery range on the festival grounds, demonstrating that his skills with a bow weren’t just boasting. Although the food was a bit heavy on the meat side, he still enjoyed the traditional dishes from the food stalls. But at the end of the afternoon, he was surprised by the Shepherd, who had approached him.
“So, centaur boy,” he said. “I had my doubts about you at first, didn’t know if you’d fit in here. But I was glad I was wrong.”
“Was that why you tested me?” Meldan said.
“Testing you? Well… I suppose you could call it that. I was checking if Fedor was keeping to his word about teaching you our ways. And you seemed to cope well with your first Mochag match.”
“Thank you, sir!”
“I see you’ve drawn quite some attention from the people. The herd seems to be trusting you. You seem to be a good man, Meldan, a worthy new member of our herd. Fedor has judged you well. I have the feeling this won’t be the last time we meet.”
“I hope so too. I kinda like it here. Only Posbank comes close to this.”
“That is where you come from, am I right?”
“Yes. Lots of centaurs and other nusents live there.”
“I see. Before I go, I have something for you.”
He grabbed into his pocket and pulled out a yellow band with a green three-leaved clover embroidered in it.
“This is yours now, a symbol of our herd.”
“It’s like our family bands. I shall cherish it with equal respect. Thank you, Shepherd.”
“May we meet again another day, and may the Gods be with you.”
Meldan put on the band around his wrist. Fedor looked at Meldan’s new band.
“Now you’re truly one of us,” he smiled.

***

This commission is drawn by the wonderful  Elke , who brought the two of them to life here on this drawing. I've written this short story, telling more about the deep friendship between Meldan and Fedor, as well as exploring the minotaur culture.