Chaotic Cara 

A series of chaotic musings of the chaotic horse god Carabella. I suppose a small collection of microfiction about the Chaotic Horse God Carabella.  

The Horse and the Harai. 

Carabella clopped along the log palace that was Zatolen’s, Chief of the Gods, home. She carried in her hands a fairy she had found under the arms. She trotted up to the raised dais where Zatolen sat upon one of two wooden thrones; the other was empty but bleached from Mealis’ having sat there in all her glorious light.  

“Uncle! Is… Is this mine? I feel like this is mine.” She held up the Harai, the humanoid unicorn fairy. “I’m like ninety percent sure it’s a horse person.” The Harai gave a little wave to Zatolen. 

His dark divinity looked down and shook his head. “No, that is a fairy. Fairies are not under our command.” 

“But horse?” 

“She is technically under your domain, but like the other fae horses, such as the Unicorns and Pegasi, you don’t have actual control over them.” 

Cara placed the Harai down and dug through one of her little pouches, pulling out two coins made of celestial light. “Hmm… um…” She slid one across the dais. “Maybe I can convince you to change your mind.” 

“No. No, you can’t.” 

“Maybe. Now?” Cara slid the other coin over.  

“Cara…” 

Cara looked about and tried to act as if she slid another coin over.  

“Cara.” 

“Um, can I get an advance on my allowance?” 

“Carabella.”  

“Yes? That is my name.” 

“You can’t bribe me. I provide the divine favors you’re offering me, and either way, I’m pretty sure one of those you borrowed from me.” 

“Hmm.” She looked down at the coins. “Oh ya, you’re right. I borrowed one to save a horse, and it pulled through on its own.” 

“Good, now put the Harai back where you found her.” 

“But she’s friend-shaped.” 

“You can be friends with her; you just don’t own her.” 

“Yay! We’re going to be friends, little fairy.” 

“Okay, Miss Horse.” The Harai said before Carabella scooped up her divine favors, and then the Harai and trotted off.  

The Tallest of Horses. 

Lionguard sat at his desk in the Hall of Heroes. He looked up at the sound of hooves on stone. He spied the goddess Clarabella trotting up to the dais where his, Witherward’s, and Groth’s desks were set.  

“Good morning, Cara. Master Witherward is currently out.”  

“Good, good, I have a letter for you!” She glanced about, making sure Groth was absent as well. She dug out a letter and passed it up to Lionguard.  

The editor scribe squinted at it, cleaned his thick glasses, and opened it up. “I don’t quite understand.” 

“You’re editing that bestiary, right?”  

“I am.” 

“Well, Dreous may have some edits for you.” 

“Giraffes are to be considered tall horses?” He blinked and frowned. “I don’t believe they are meant to be…” 

“I mean, if you think you know better than the Gods.” 

“Oh, um, of course not.” Lionguard gulped. “I’d never challenge divine mandate.” 

“Good, and any questions you have about it can go through me. Dreous doesn’t want to be bothered about this.” 

“Um, of course, your divinity.” 

“Good. Now make sure you get that book out as fast as possible.” Cara trotted off quickly, leaving the Hall of Heroes to bide her horsey time.  

Months later, she felt it was time to act, and she snuck her way into Haltheris’ great kitchen, where rolls of Cara-tape hung from the ceiling to catch silly flying horses. She trotted across the volcanic stone of the floor to his great table and became the great Tall Horse with her long neck reaching over the edge and snagging a giant piece of toast, happily munching it.  

The Horse and the Heifer. 

Carabella galloped across the air over muddy plains when she skidded to a halt and trotted down to a buffalo. “Oh, wow, you’re a beefy boy. I love your poofy hair too.” She dug out a small card. “If you’re ever interested in becoming a horse, I could use some more horse species. Cause apparently most horses are fairy horses, so I can’t boss them around.” She handed the great buffalo her card, which was immediately eaten. “Hmm… I don’t know how you’ll read it from the inside, but I’m sure it’s fine…” She blinked as a shadow fell over her, and she turned, looking up into the great bosom of the giantess of a god, Hildalin, who ruled over bovine and all farm animals save horses. “Oh, um, hi Hilda.” 

The great giantess God snorted like a bull. “What are you doing, Cara?” 

“Um, just being a silly little horse.” 

Hilda leaned over, her hair half covering her eyes, and long horns jutted forth from the sides of her head. “It looks like you’re trying to poach my critters.” 

“Whaaaat? Nooooo. I’d never do that.”  

“And Tall Horses?” 

“To be fair, Dreous was okay with losing those because he couldn’t really figure out how to fit those into his forms.” 

“I think you’re trying to poach my buffalo.” 

“Um, well, no. They are beefy boys, though, so you know, maybe you could call them Beefalo? Or… Wide Horses. No? Um, that’s okay, I think I’ll just go ah!”  

Hilda snatched Carabella up by the back of her shirt. “I don’t take kindly to thieving horses.” 

“Hey, put me down! You have a lot more critters than I just in bovine, and that is not counting all the sheep, pigs, and like chickens you’ve got.”  

“You have plenty of creatures.” Hilda tapped Cara on the nose. “So, stay away from mine.” 

“Owie, be careful.  I’m a fragile pony princess.” 

“You should have all the breeds of horses, mules, donkeys, and zebras.” 

“You think asses are going to listen to me! They’re jackasses, they don’t listen to anyone.”  

“Too bad. Now shove off, or I’m going to bury you and see if I can grow horses.” 

“Fine! I will go.” Cara huffed, and once Hildalin let her go, galloped off across the sky.  

The Cult of Cara. 

Cara wiggled her horse body down tight spiral stairs, the stone pressing her bags into her. “Stupid… walls.” She squeezed out of an open archway into a reliquary. The room was lit by torches and full of cloaked figures in robes in various horse patterns and colors. “I have divine orders for the master of the cult. All Cara cults must increase horse-theme by at least like, um, ten percent.”  

One figure whose robe had been kitted out to look like a horse’s head approached a gold unicorn horn mounted at the forehead. “Yes, mistress.”  

“Good. What is this place a museum?”  

“Oh, it’s the holy reliquary, your equine divinity.”  

“Neat.” She wondered about it. “Hey… that’s my ball! I dropped it through the clouds and couldn’t find it.” Cara approached the red ball in a glass case. “Why do you guys have my ball?” 

“It’s a holy relic of your divinity.” 

“Are those my old horseshoes… I wondered where they went.” Cara huffed, looking around. “Is this just where all my stuff goes when I lose it?” 

“Um, yes, sort of? We keep the sacred relics of the Cult of Cara here.” 

“Hey! Those are my panties, you perverts. That’s it, I am taking all my stuff back.” Cara started gathering her various things. 

“No, you can’t take the sacred relics of Cara! They belong to your Cult what are we to worship?” 

“Me! And not my panties or ball or a saddlebag, you weirdos.”  

“We cannot allow you to steal the sacred relics of the Cult of Cara. It is our task to keep them safe.” 

“I am the Cara of the Cult.” 

“It matters not. Seize that god!” Cultists threw themselves at the equine goddess; some threw ropes to tie and bind her down.  

“Hey! Help! I’m being rustled!” Cara toppled as dozens of cultists pulled and pushed at her. She tried to dig out her rulebook to determine whether she was allowed to kick them.  

“You shall be the greatest of our relics.” The Cult master said with zealous joy.  

“I am your God. You can’t just tie me up and keep me as a relic… I have messages to deliver! And… and my daddy and mommy and uncle and auntie will not let you jerks keep me tied up here.”  

Zatolen descended like a sudden eclipse, muting the light without extinguishing the lamps and candles, leaving hollow glows like light burned into the eyes. The only true light was the deep, burning eyes of scarlet. Zatolen’s shape seemed to shiver and shake as if something far bigger wished to be free. “What is the meaning of this?” 

“Your dark divinity! We merely were securing our sacred god. For her safety, of course, your divine lord.” 

“You are lucky I managed to talk her father into letting me handle this, or the opening move would have left this tomb of relics one for corpses.” 

“Uncle! They’re horse rustling me.” 

“I noticed sweety. Now let my niece go.” 

“But she was attempting to steal our holy relics… the gods are not supposed to seize the belongings of the mortal world.” 

“True, but you are her cult, and these were her things, so I do believe she has the right to reclaim her possessions from her followers. I suppose you can keep some of them.” Zatolen idly waved his hand towards Cara, and the ropes turned rotten and frayed, unraveling to ash in seconds. “I will not be merciful nor patient if you raise your hand against my family again, though.” 

Cara snatched up her underwear and ball and trotted over to snuggle against her uncle. “Humph, you jerks better make your stupid cult outfits like fifty percent more horsey too!”  Cara shouted as the gods ascended back up the stairs.