I am a Centaur

Summer, third day of the Seventh Month. I had to leave the road to avoid detection. I've had too many close calls as it is. But now that I can finally see Spearhead from a distance, I'm beginning to wonder if I should have come. My home city is surrounded by a sea of foes. There are several fires burning inside, probably started by the flaming projectiles the Hucnai are launching over the wall. I can smell the stench of burning pitch even from here, and the cries of desperation and woe within my home merge with the savage howls of the enemy. I have no idea what it would take to free my city. Unknown, if you can hear me, if you can see this, please save my people! Keep my family safe! If by some chance I am taken and killed, and my family should escape and find my body, then, my Family: please know that I love you all. Phino and your House, you have been as family to me and mine, and I thank you. Strange as it may seem, I simply had to write what I saw as I saw it happening. If my words seem dull and lifeless it is because I felt I had lost everything. There was as sudden rush of fear and pain, and then nothing but empty blackness in heart and spirit, an ultimate resignation. I could not contain the fountains of my eyes at the sight of my city burning, though I might have consoled myself in that regard had I been able to think clearly. Spearhead is made almost entirely of stone and baked clay, so fire was actually a rather ineffective weapon against it, though as a fear factor it could still play heavily on the minds of the citizens as it did mine. There is something foreboding at the sight of thick, black smoke rising in billows from anything other than a campfire or a chimney. Feeling I had no other choice, I began making my way towards the forest, being careful to avoid the river nearby lest I run into a water-gathering party of the enemy; night was falling, which was far better suited to my enemies eyes than mine even with the moon shining bright. But when I made it to the shelter of the trees I could contain my grief no longer, threw all caution aside and ran, which was very foolish all things considered. But I was too distraught to think of that. Somewhere in the back of my mind I believe I had some idea of finding some deep, secluded place and spending the night there so I could reassess my situation in daylight, but that was not to be. I tripped in my careless rampage, and found when I raised my head that I had run straight towards the very river I'd so carefully shunned before. As my head cleared from the severe jarring of my fall, I noticed that there were several voices calling to each other. I was on my hooves in an instant, thankful that I had no broken bones. The voices seemed to come from all around, so I unstrapped my staff and club from my side. Though the forest was dark, there was just enough moonlight near the bank of the river to see by, so I figured I might as well stand my ground there as anywhere else. Then they came, a party of eight Hucnai armed with long, heavy single-edged swords with forward-curving hooked points. They immediately tried to surround me, and I put my training with the Claw Clan brothers into practice, always moving so they could never quite form a full circle around me and turning rapidly round about to hit them whenever they got close enough. Though I put up a bold front, I was still no soldier, while those I was fighting were. They kept coming at me, dodging my blows for the most part. This kept on for some time, till I began to realize that though I'd struck two or three down, I was exhausting myself and there were more of them than when I began. Thinking of nothing but the heat of the moment, I determined to make a last stand and take as many as I could with me as a sort of revenge. I cared not that I would die, for such was my emotional state that I could not think past the rage I felt nor the flames I had seen in Spearhead or the army outside of it. I saw no hope for my people, and figured I might as well die then and there. It had a sort of romantic feel to it, a Warrior's Death. I bellowed loudly in defiance. That's when the arrows began to fly, piercing one Hucnai skull after another. So shocking was this that I didn't even think to strike any of my foes down amid their sudden disarray. I could only watch them fall around me as my rage gave way to confusion. When the last Hucnai had fallen I heard a low, harsh voice say to “follow the light, you noisy brute” deeper into the forest. I'm sure I also heard some snickering. At first this made no sense to me, until I saw a pale blue light in the trees moving in sudden jerks, as if it was jumping from branch to branch. It moved rapidly at first, and was hard to keep up with in the dark. I remember stumbling a lot in my efforts not to be left behind, bruising my poor legs over and over on unseen roots and branches. A good distance from the battle site the light slowed as it led me to an exceptionally large tree, at which point the same voice as before asked if I was weary. I replied that I was. "Then sleep here. We will watch over you till dawn. Then we shall discuss your situation and ours" the voice said. “Only please, no more shouting. It is not wise when you're surrounded by enemies to call even more of them to you!” I thanked whoever it was, and as I was too tired to lie down, soon fell asleep on my feet to the sound of laughter being unsuccessfully contained.