Apology

Although he was not allowed to watch the horse punching (replayed seconds after the horrible thing had happened), Lukas heard all about it and grew more and more unsettled as time went on. "Why is there no statement from the person responsible?" he asked his parents, who told him that at least there was a punishment. "But a punishment is not an apology," Lukas explained and, very tenderly, he was urged to let it go ("because this is how some people are"). He did not go into the woods that day to defy his mother and father, for he knew they were at a loss as well; he did not go into the darkness of the far clearing because he was vengeful; he did not call the centaurs for any other reason than he felt it his obligation to let them know. "What was the name of the victim?" the leader asked him (an impossible number of hands tall and dark with light eyes), and he dug out the paper upon which he'd written it down. There were several nods. "I'm so very sorry," Lukas whispered. "I have the person's name here, but I don't know location or anything of substance." "We have it," said a deep voice in the back. "They are known to us," said another voice. "Well ... ," Lukas fumbled, embarrassed and ashamed, " ... please let me just say that I'm sorry for all of it - every bit of it." Several hands patted his shoulder in comfort as they moved away, slowly and then steadily and then at an impossible speed (with a sound like thunder). Lukas dried his eyes and walked back home; he was sound asleep in his bed when the centaurs arrived elsewhere and let themselves into the house through the outside wall.