Despite what peoples’ preconceptions of minotaurs were, a lot of them were not aggressive like bulls. Their well built muscles came from a largely plant diet. Their size was a direct result of their time on the planes, where they were able to grow large with an abundance of food. They gathered in herds and while there were often territory disputes, not many of them turned violent.

  For the first fourteen years of Zeke’s life, he was content. Minotaur matured physically faster than most humanoid. It wasn’t long before Zeke’s muscles came in. Just in time too.

  The peaceful minotaur clan had an unforeseen enemy just beyond the Plains. The Ulmund population had been growing steadily for a number of years. Their people needed more room. Which meant bigger cities… which meant bigger farmlands. They were given, what the Ulmun thought was a fair warning. A slip of paper stating the Ulmund Kingdom’s intention to seize the land within a matter of two weeks. Giving the minotaur herd ample time to collect their things and leave the homeland they’d known their whole lives. Some of these papers even got delivered. The Ulmun were not polite to those that stayed. The minotaur were greatly outnumbered. Some, like Zeke, escaped. Some, like the rest of his clan, were caught. Those that were caught… Zeke didn't like to think about them.

  Zeke was aimless and ambled for as long as his empty stomach would carry him. He didn’t bother to look back, too scared he’d see a horde of Ulmun with nets. After his exhaustion slowed him to a stop, an army troupe the likes of which he’d never seen found him. A platoon of monsters, demihumans, and sapients all working together under the crackshot leadership of a demon tiger Lieutenant.

  They picked him up and escorted him to the Dark Lord's Domain. Zeke was treated well on day one. Practically welcomed in as a hero. He was given a place to sleep with other displaced heavies in a converted barn. They told him he was the first minotaur they had ever had. They explained the rules of the community to Zeke, how he would need to pull his weight. His strength allowed him to work in construction on the nearby topside town.

  Zeke didn’t speak much when he first arrived. Was he unhappy? Distraught? If you were to directly ask the young Zeke if he was unhappy he could no longer see his mother, he would say that it was impossible to say that. He would, however, say he was unhappy he could not see his mother at that moment. If he was asked what were the chances of his father having survived, considering he was one of the few warriors in the minotaur herd, Zeke would likely say he was not good at numbers, and then stick up anywhere between one to ten fingers.

  Zeke was at a diner with the lieutenant who saved him. A Rakshasa with a big jagged scar along his eye and an eye patch to cover it up. His glorious black mullet hung behind him. He was a surly bloke by the name of Bodhi.

  “You haven’t quite found this place to be home yet, have you?” Bodhi asked.

  Zeke ate his eggs, saying very little. He was on his fourth plate and was asking for another.

  “You look a lot better than when I first found you.” Said Bodhi, “Starving. Bones. Now, you’re plump. Lord, the state of you. Nobody should live like that. Nobody.”

  Zeke sat curtly, his arms crossed and resting on the table. He let out a timid sigh as he tried to tune out Bodhi and his feelings.

  “I’m glad you’re safe is all,” Bodhi said as he scarfed down his eggs and stuffed himself with pancakes. He drank black coffee to wash it down, “I’ve seen war. Child. I’ve seen it. I’ve… I’ve dealt my hand in it. Shames me to say. Necessary evil and that sort of thing. But damn. Damn it!” Bodhi slammed the table with his fist so much it startled Zeke, “Damn it if that shouldn’t happen to any innocent darkfolk. That’s what this place is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be paradise. But who do you think protects it?”

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  “More eggs please,” Zeke said.

  “Well, anyway. You’re safe, is all I’m saying. Safe and well. Hardly touched your fourth plate of eggs.”

  Bodhi reached over and pierced the eggs with his fork, attempting to grasp it. The fork instead, permeated the membrane of the yolk and it ran all over Zeke’s plate.

  “Tell you what, boy. You take your time. I know it’s only been a few months but I’ve heard from some of the people that you’re really fitting in here. We’ll find a place for you soon, kiddo. Fierce Forest is sort of a starter for all our monsters. But… you’re going to get bigger. And you’ll thrive soon. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, sir,”

  “Yes, sir.” Said Zeke. the general looked up at him with a mouth full of eggs and smiled while still chewing.

  “While you’re here, play some games. Take up a hobby. Don’t think I forgot you’re still a kid.”

  Bodhi checked in on Zeke, but it wasn’t long before duty called him elsewhere.

  Zeke was suddenly alone. He did his job, but there were no minotaurs around. He was friendly with his bunkmates, but didn’t speak to them much.

  Zeke laid on his bed once, ruminating on the slats of wood that made up the top bunk.

  “Zeke?” he heard the gruff voice of his of his bunkmate.

  “Mm.” Zeke responded.

  “You here?” His roommate’s head poked over the top punk. He was a bearfolk. Polar Bear. He looked down at Zeke from his bed.

  “They’re going to place me. Sixth floor. I’m getting a home and a job.”

  Zeke turned back, and looked up at the bearfolk, “That’s great, Arc.”

  Arc had a long smile on his face, “Isn’t it? Guess I’m a ‘tank.’ And they could use more of those down there. Plus the cold.”

  Zeke nodded his head, “Right. Perfect place for you.”

  “Hey, it’ll happen for you, buddy.”

  Zeke smiled, his eyes welling, “I’m happy for you, Arc. Congrats.”

  “I start tomorrow.” Said Arc. He lifted his head up and went back to sleep.

  “Oh!” Arc said, “By the way, there’s a package for you in the mailbox.”

  Zeke got out of bed and checked the inside of the mailbox. There was a package, wrapped poorly with paper. He saw that written lazily in quill was the name ‘Bohdi.’

  He tore it open. He found a fishing rod. And a note that said, “Like I said, you’re still a kid.. When I was still a kid… I went fishing. Still do. - Bohdi.”

  The minotaur saw two poles and a groove where the string was supposed to go, as well as a spool of string. He connected the two sticks together, and twisted them. They were made of the same bamboo, just cut and deconstructed so they’d be easier to pack. Zeke bent it in his palm. There was a lot of give to it but he felt like it would snap off at any second. He walked outside and headed toward Lethal Lake. Somewhere along Baleful Bay, he found a rock that was slanted enough to use as a seat. He set up the fishing rod, now spooled with twine, and used a hook. He attempted to string the wire through the tiny hole in the hook, closing one eye to concentrate on it. After much struggling, he managed to thread the needle. He sat down. and cast his line.

  That day he caught nothing. Admittedly, he only spent about fifteen minutes there before getting bored. He came back the next day after his job, intent on trying it again. He tossed his line, waited, and just as he was about to call the hobby stupid, he got a bite. The fish fought back, but Zeke’s muscles were too strong. He pulled hard, bending the rod tremendously and pulling in a young rainbow trout.

  Day after day he would return, eager to catch something else. There was something about waiting for the fish to bite that helped clear his head.

  One day, a big sturgeon hooked itself onto Zeke’s line. Zeke planted his feet on the ground and pulled back, going toe to toe with the beast. The bamboo rod pointed and bent every way as the fish attempted to get away with the bait. Zeke was holding firm, but he could begin to hear creaking from the rod. He stared at it, the only token he had of the person who saved his life, and cut the line. The big beast escaped into the murky lake as Zeke wiped the sweat off his brow.

  “No fair!” He heard a shrill cry behind him. He looked out into the trees, the voice called out again, “I’m serious guys! Where are you guys! This isn’t funny! I’m going to tell mum!”

  Zeke turned to look, when a tiny dark-red baby kobold waddled through the treeline.

  Zeke stared at Baby Kip. Baby Kip stared back. And Baby Kip began to cry.

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