That’s being born of my really really old story. Saying the name would kinda destroy the point of rewriting it, because I want the prologue to still hold some sort of mystery.
<b>So</b>, in short… those of you that know the old name, <b>keep it secret</b>.
The rest of you, here’s the small little prologue. I’ll have the next chapter sometime soon.
<table align=center><tr><td><pre width=100%>
Treading water, a figure slowly made its way to shore. As it slid out of the silvery, moonlit water, the figure’s body went from the glistening sheen of wet skin, to the padded, visible warmth of fur. The satyr hopped free of its bath, jaunting towards the forest. Behind it was a small trail of dust and mud.
The moon seemed to burn in the sky, and the creature knew something was amiss. It charged through the underbrush and deftly avoided obstacles both moving and non. The sky seemed to open up, and heat blasted from all sides, withering plants almost instantly. The ground shook the creature off its feet, and it landed hard on its side.
As the sky sank closer to the ground, the creature regained its feet and vaulted over a deer. Orange flames leapt up from dead trees, and the sky came closer and closer. There came a deafening sound from behind the creature, and the ground shook more ferociously than before. An explosion of rock and dirt sent it flying into a tree.
When the sky met the earth, nothing survived.</pre></tr></td></table>
Woo. About time 
Late update! (Sorry, life happens, and i’ll fix the format too.)
<table align=“center” width=100%><tr><td><pre width=100%>“Freak,”’ yelled a disembodied voice, “He’s a goddamned freak.”
“I say we toss him to the fuckin’ dogs,” said another.
A sharp pain coursed through his side, and the darkness he saw turned into a sky filled with fireworks. Feet landed heavy blows against his side and head. He moved to defend himself, but all he saw was darkness intruded upon by sharp, bright lights flashing across his eyes.
Somehow, the blank look of his eyelids disappeared, and his vision turned to that of two gruesomely deformed men, both with legs cocked back and ready to begin kicking again. Almost on instinct, his hands went out and snapped the feet of those in front of him, sending them to the ground immediately.</p>
Before he knew it, he was on his feet and leaning over to smash their heads to the nearest tree. He regained his control, and threw them both across the clearing. They landed with a few screams and assorted thumps and thuds. The larger one was cradling his demolished extremity, and the other had passed out long ago.
Surveying the area around him, as well as himself, the man noticed he himself was not exactly human. He was, what seemed to be, part goat. He was very muscular, and his lower half seemed to be very well taken care of. The fur was thick and straight, not a noticeable scratch, other than a few misplaced gobs from the small altercation he was just in.
Around him, the trees seemed somehow dead, bent, and blackened. All the puddles around him reflected no light, and looked as though they’d hold you forever if you managed to fall into them. He carefully made his way through this mockup of a forest. His hooves clacked against the occasional onyx stone, and he began searching around for something he could use to see what he looked like.
He had no memory of his past or even what he looked like. His name eluded him, despite his best attempts to jog some sort of memory from his overworked brain. His head ached, and his side had begun to swell slightly, probably a broken rib. He was excrutiatingly tired, as well. His mind swirled with pain and fatigue.
He came to a small outcropping, overlooking a large crater. He sat down and checked his side for any serious injuries. He moved his search up to his head, and jabbed his hand on a very pointy protrusion on his head. Nursing the small wound on his hand, he went about figuring out what was there to cause such a wound. He felt along them, and came to the conclusion that they were horns.
His hands continued over the rest of what he couldn’t feel. His head was completely bald, and his mouth was in a grotesque shape. His eyes were sunk deep into his head, and his nose was elongated and dog-like. He needed to get to some sort of mirror before he went crazy searching his face.
He stood up slowly and began wracking his aching mind for any hint of his past, of his name, of anything. All he could remember was a very large bed. It had 4 chains on each post, and they were shackled to something or someone at the center. Why this came to mind when he thought of his name and past he did not know, but it struck him very deeply.
He thought about this harder, and the bed became a little clearer. On it there was a female figure. His gaze shifted along the mattress, but he was interrupted by a sound below him, in the crater. He listened carefully, and it came again. It was a deep, bone-chilling growl. Then, he heard voices.
“Would you pick up your goddamned feet, you lumbering fool.”
There was a loud smack, the sound of grinding metal, and the growl again.
The man without a memory looked over the side of the crater carefully, and was greeted by the sight of a large group of armed men. They all were surrounding a giant creature that looked much like a tortoise with large pieces cut out of the shell. In those cuts, grotesque men looked all around them for something, anything.
One of the men’s heads turned in his direction, and shouted the alarm. He bolted upright and began fleeing as fast as he could towards where he’d awoken earlier. He sped past the two now-unconscious men and into the dense foliage of the dead and still-dying forest. Branches beat his face, and there was a great thundering behind him as the tortoise somehow made it up the side of the crater.
Branches beat his face, and his footing was extremely uneasy. He couldn’t figure out any sort of pattern that normal forests have. Usually trees keep their roots deeper than above-ground. He lost his footing and came crashing to the ground. He sat there willing himself to get up, but he was so tired. He just wanted to close his eyes and let them kill him.
He fought his fatigue, and slowly got to his feet. His vision swirled, and he plummeted off an intangible cliff into a lake of dead leaves. All around him were grotesque figures. Whether they were male or female, he couldn’t tell. The tortoise fell behind him, and the armed men began killing all the figures about him. He tried to swim away, but every stroke brought him closer to the tortoise. No matter how hard he fought, it drew him closer and closer. Eventually, it was upon him, and he could do nothing to stop the beast from getting within reach of his body.
Kicking his feet at the head of the beast, he punctured it’s eye. Out of it spewed hundreds of crystals. They floated in the air for what seemed an eternity, spewing forever from the damaged hole of the creature. Suddenly, everything around him grew silent, and everything disappeared. No leaves, no figures, no men, just the crystal shower and himself. The crystals dropped to the ground, and a small mirror formed where a crystal hit. Glancing downward, he felt a nauseating sensation wash over his body. He tried to look into the mirror, and his whole body shook as he retched onto the ground next to him.
The face in the mirror was hideous. There was no skin to be seen, and the eye sockets were empty. His nose was nothing more than a bony snout with two airholes. The teeth were malformed and jagged, angled horribly in every direction. The horns were nothing more than thousands upon thousands of thorns put into an almost bouquet-like arrangement. They twisted in upon themselves, and came to sinuous points.
He tried to look away, but he could not move his gaze away from the mirror. The fatigue had left his head for good, but the pounding was still there. The pounding was almost so hard that he thought he felt it coursing throughout his body. Pain exploded through his eye sockets as his eyes became extremely dry from the lack of blinking.
With all of his strength, he threw himself at the mirror, shattering it, sending him through what he thought was the floor. He tumbled end over end, falling for what seemed hours. Unfamiliar people and events flew past him in a blur, and he landed on something extremely soft. He was laying on the bed from his memories, and his arms and legs were chained to the corners. He struggled, but couldn’t break free.
He looked around him, and could only see darkness, so he continued struggling. In the distance he heard the thud of the tortoise again. Head pounding, he yelled for help. Strange figures floated from his mouth, and formed letters in a language he couldn’t comprehend. His eyelids drew heavy, and he passed out.</pre></td></tr></table>