Country Life

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The Legend of the Hakino

Not many know about the legend of the hakino, but I know every story available.

That was why I currently resided in a small village in the heart of Africa. Every year at this time, there was always one who reported traces of the legendary creature. No one had come to me yet, however, and I had been in the village a week.

I flipped through the old notes I had scribed myself. Modern mythology ignored the hakino for whatever reason. Well. There were only a few visual references of the great beast. The majority—which were five in total—had been found in various caves across the globe. All dating back to the cavemen era.

Another visual was a silk painting from ancient China. It depicted something resembling the traditional unicorn, but the lore behind the piece was of the hakino. Though, historically, unicorn only meant “single horn.” The final visual was a banner from medieval England. But they got the hakino’s form wrong, too. Whoever created it mistakenly put a hawk on a rhinoceros’s shoulder.

Breathing in deep, I looked up at the relentless sun. Turned to the native tribe. They had been kind to me for many years as I continued my research. My translator was a village man who acted as liaison between his people and the modern world. Though they rejected modern conveniences with the exception of medicines. It was fascinating to see them preserve their culture.

But the poachers plagued them every year during hunting season.

A commotion started when the scouting party returned. Two men were on either side of a third, helping him hobble on one leg. Blood poured down his useless one.

My translator rose from his seat. Dark eyes taking in the situation of his people. “They have come.”

I didn’t waste any time. Ducking into my hut, I grabbed everything I needed for travel and threw them in my pack. Checked my rifle. Putting binoculars around my neck, I headed out.

“Taylor,” the liaison called, “be careful. Do not get yourself killed.”

Trotting backwards, I couldn’t help but smile. Even if my body died, my soul would never be killed. I followed the blood trail as far as it led. Rifle trained at the ready. The tribe had become my second family, and the poachers had shot one of them. This, I would not brook.

I moved down wind. Crouching through the tall, dry grass. Set up behind a rock. I thought I had heard voices. I listened. The afternoon insects added much ambiance, but I learned to tune them out. I held my breath.

There it was. Laughing. Drunk laughter if I ever heard it.

Creeping onto the rock, I laid flat and the lifted the binoculars to my face.

The camp was approximately sixty yards in front of me. Five men around a fire. Two standing, three sitting. A flask was passed around. One of the standing men held a gun, though he waved it around as if imitating something.

My nostrils flared. They were making fun of shooting my friend. I slowly slid my rifle in front of me. Not wishing to give up my position yet. Looking through the sight, I lined up a perfect head shot. Held my breath again as my finger moved over the trigger.

The ground suddenly shook. My gun fired, but who knew where the bullet went. The poachers were yelling and grabbing guns. I set up another shot. Again, the ground violently shook. So much so, I was thrown off my rock.

I heard the poachers continue screaming. They fired multiple times. But when I tried scrambling to my feet, I was knocked down. What was this? A freak earthquake?

A strong call, of an animal I didn’t recognize, answered me. The yelling subsided. Then, there was silence. Even the insects ceased. All I could hear was my heart thumping in my chest.

Finally, I was able to claw my way back on top of the rock. Came face to face with a vision full of white. Felt hot breath on my back. I swallowed. Daring to look up, I slowly lifted my head.

Piercing copper eyes behind a rhinoceros horn bore into my soul. The abnormally large beast stepped back many paces. Spread large hawk wings.

“The hakino,” I breathed. Moved to the seat of my pants in almost disbelief. This was it. The moment I had waited for, for so long. Before me stood the legendary creature. A white rhinoceros with the gaze and wings of a hawk.

The great beast stared me down in a questioning manner. Intelligence glimmering in its eyes.

I rose to shaky feet. “You’re the hakino. The Great Protector.” I blinked away tears of joy. “God’s Last Righteous Unicorn.”

The hakino bowed on a front leg.

“Wow…after all my years of searching, I’ve finally found you.” I ran a hand through my hair. “You’re the only one of your kind. Have been since the day of creation.”

It nodded and stepped forward. Seeming to evaluate the honesty of my soul.

I remained still. Not from fear but respect. This creature had been around since the beginning of time. Protecting those that couldn’t protect themselves. Including those hunted by poachers. It rarely revealed itself to people. Why had it chosen to reveal itself to me?

The hakino pawed at the ground. Its horn glowed as it unfurled its mighty wings.

Brows furrowing, I searched it. My confusion grew when a hollow horn materialized in my hands. I studied the horn. It had a small hole in the tip. So it wasn’t a drinking horn. Was it to signal? Eyeing the legendary creature, I held the horn to my lips. Blew into it.

The hakino crooned, matching my horn’s pitch.

I took a leap of faith. “Does this call you?” When it nodded, I smiled. “So you really are a unicorn, aren’t you?”

A loud snort was the reply.

Laughing, I gazed upon it some more. Couldn’t resist the temptation. I held out a hand.

The Great Protector put its snout in my open hand. Rumbled in a friendly manner. Then it stepped back. Using its wings for assistance, it reared. Landed on the ground hard enough to shake it.

I stumbled back to the dirt. When I recovered, the hakino was gone. As swiftly as it had arrived. But it was real. The horn was still in my possession. I had been chosen to also be a protector. I stood in silence for some time. Running what had transpired over and over in my head. Then made a mad dash to the village. I had to record everything.

For I—Taylor Rosate—had been part of the single greatest event in a lifetime.


The Legend of the Hakino: Intro

I wanted to introduce my next story as it was commissioned from me. It is the first story I have ever made money from. Thankfully, the person who asked me to make it for them enjoyed it, and they were gracious enough to let me share it to my blog. The hakino is a creature they created and wanted to see brought to life. This story is a tad longer than my normal stories I post on here, coming in at 1,130 words, so expect for a longer read. Please enjoy!


Louisiana Moon

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Fire Rose


Taking of Medalia

Leven, the Outlands prince, waved a hand, forcing open Medalia’s throne room doors. Despite the heavy blockade. His silver armor glistened as much as his bright yellow eyes. A knowing smirk rested on his face.

The soldiers guarding their king trembled. They knew what the foreign prince was capable of unleashing. And his full powers had yet to be seen.

“Kill him!” King Talus cried from his throne.

Hesitating, they rushed forward.

Leven lifted a hand, and all their necks snapped at once. He stepped over their fallen bodies. Gaze trained on Talus. Holding out an arm, the peppered king’s sword came to him. “You’ve grown weak, old man.”

Talus stood with confidence. “The Medalia we know will die with me. You’ll do nothing but destroy it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m going to take it as my own, seeing how my parents banished me from the Outlands.”

“Their only lack in judgement was that they didn’t foresee you coming here.”

Leven’s grin never faded. He inspected the jeweled sword. “It’s a pity, really. How useless Medalia is now. Your generals have been slain, your son has been captured by my army, and I can waltz right in and take your throne.” He teleported behind Talus. “Your time is up.” In one swift move, he beheaded the king with his own sword. Stood splattered with blood. Looking very much like his mother with his pale skin and charcoal gray hair falling just past his shoulders.

A small gasp caught the Outlander’s attention. He whirled around. Someone was behind a pillar. He teleported to the source of the sound. Grabbed the servant girl by the neck and lifted her up.

Her thin frame quivered.

His head slightly tilted. “There is a power about you that I cannot read. How strange. But I can tell the old king favored you.”

She struggled under his grasp. Fear etched in her face.

“I won’t kill you. Not yet. You may prove interesting. But I am your new king.” He dropped her. “You will serve me, now. I will make you my personal slave. Tell me your name so I know how to call you.”

Throwing herself on the floor, she remained in the lowest form of submission. Her voice small. “T-Teckia, my…my lord.”


Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman

In celebration of seeing Wonder Woman, I decided to share this piece I drew back in 2012, during my first semester of college. It was the first project my drawing class had been assigned. The task was to draw something we felt represented ourselves, our style, and our inspiration. I chose to recreate a picture done by Jim Lee, one of my favorite DC Comics artists.

Wonder Woman has always been more than just a comic book character to me. Outside of my mom, she was the only real female figure I had. And she taught me many things. True strength comes from within, not from your muscles. No matter what size I am, I can still do anything I set my mind toward. All I need is love, compassion, and the courage to be myself. And lastly, I don’t have to be Wonder Woman to be a wonderful woman.

I won’t lie. I cried quite a bit when I saw the Wonder Woman movie. One of my childhood icons was now more than animated character or a drawing on a page. She was on a big screen in live action. She became real. That movie was everything I could have asked for and more. I was so happy to see my hero, that I couldn’t help but cry.

This is one of the things I love about books/comics/TV shows/video games/movies, etc. Usually, everyone finds their hero. That one character that stands out the most to them. The one that connects with them the most. People learn from these characters, are inspired to be their best by these characters. The list could go on.

I know there’s a difference between the real world and fantasy. I am not blind to my everyday responsibilities. But whether it’s reading a book or comic to forget myself for a little while, whether it’s playing a video game to release my frustration, whether it’s writing stories or poems to vent my feelings, fiction does help me get through this thing we call life. Just as music does. Just as chatting with family and friends does. And Wonder Woman? Well. She’s an aspect of fiction that’s helped me the most.


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