The Origin of the Aygir

"Gather close, little ones, and let me tell you the story of our people. The story of Kheiron and the choice that shaped us all.
Long, long ago, when the stars were still young and the gods walked among us, Kheiron, the Great Centaur, looked upon his creations with pride. His centaurs were strong, wise, and whole—half horse, half human—perfectly balanced in body and mind. They roamed the plains and forests as guardians of harmony, their hooves thundering like the heartbeat of the earth.
But Kheiron, wise as he was, began to wonder: was perfection truly enough? His centaurs needed nothing but themselves. They did not struggle, and so they did not grow. They did not depend on one another, and so they did not truly love. Kheiron’s heart ached with the thought that there might be more they could become, more they could achieve, if only they dared to change.
One night, under the light of the two moons, Kheiron called his children together. The stars shone brighter that night, as though they, too, wished to listen. 'My beloved children,' Kheiron said, his voice as deep as the mountains, 'I have given you unity, strength, and wisdom. But I see now that there is a greater path. A path not of perfection, but of transformation. I offer you a choice.'
The centaurs stirred, their great tails swishing as they listened. A choice? What kind of choice?
Kheiron spread his arms wide. 'You may remain as you are, whole and steadfast, the guardians of balance. Or,' he said, his voice lowering like the wind before a storm, 'you may allow me to divide you. To separate horse from human. Those who choose this path will no longer be whole on their own. But you will have the chance to find your other half in another. To bond with them, to grow through them, to become something even greater together.'
The centaurs were silent. The wind whispered through the grass as they pondered. Some were afraid—afraid of what they might lose. Others were curious, their hearts stirred by the promise of growth and change. And then, one by one, a few brave souls stepped forward. They knelt before Kheiron, their heads bowed low. 'We trust you, Father,' they said. 'Let us be your greatest creation.'
Kheiron’s eyes glistened with pride. He raised his hands to the heavens, and the stars seemed to gather around him. The moons shone brighter, and a great light enveloped those who had stepped forward. When the light faded, the centaurs were no longer one. The humans stood, unsteady on their feet, and the horses trotted beside them, strong and free.
'You are no longer whole,' Kheiron told them, 'but you are not incomplete. Each of you has an other half to find. Together, you will be stronger than you ever were apart.'
And so it was that the Agyir were born, and with them, the Eouman horses—our partners, our other halves. But not all centaurs chose this path. Many remained as they were, guardians of the wild, protectors of Kheiron’s original vision. They still roam the world today, watching us with knowing eyes.
And that, little ones, is why we honor Kheiron at the At Binici ceremony. It is not just a time to bond with a horse—it is a time to remember. To remember where we came from. To remember that our strength comes not from perfection, but from the bonds we forge, the trust we build, and the love we share."

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Under the vast, starry skies of Eouma, with the moons of Callista and Umbriel casting their gentle light, the myth of Kheiron comes alive. It is a tale of choice, transformation, and unity that defines the Agyir people and their sacred connection to the Eouman horses. This story is not confined to the firelight of oral tradition—it echoes in the sweeping plains, the rhythmic thunder of hooves, and the sacred At Binici ceremony. The myth captures the heart of a culture deeply tied to the land, the divine, and the enduring bonds they forge. It is a reminder that even in separation, there is strength, and in imperfection, there is the promise of growth.