To Risk The Unicorn--A Short Story

Author's Note:

Originally, this story was meant to be the first chapter of a science fiction/fantasy novel, with a bit of science intertwined in a fantasy story. June, the main character, finds that history is sometimes the basis for legend. I have the second chapter nearly completed. When it is done, I will post it here, too.

Please comment on this story and let me know what you think.

The unaccustomed man-smell disturbed Kirian. He stamped his hooves in clay, and shook his great head. Dreading the task set to him by the Giordon, Kirian neighed.

Find the Two , Giordon had commanded. Bring them. Prepare them to become Overlords .

Overlords? Out of humans? Kirian had wanted to protest, but even Kirian, Lord of Shandrii, must obey Giordon, Grand Overlord of the Entirety.

As he walked further into the cavern, his hooves clicked and struck fire on the bare flint. Kirian's amber eyes glowed in the heavy darkness. His nose led him to the man-creature. Illuminated by the soft, golden glow of Kirian's eyes, the creature lay sprawled on his back. His body wrappings were soaked by the cave's dripping mineral water, and were streaked with mud and clay. Mud smudged his face, made his hair look like it was molded in clay by a careless craftsman.

Kirian had to force himself to lower his head to touch the tip of his iridescent horn to the filthy creature's chest. Light shimmered at the base of his horn, burned its way down the length of the magical spiral, and flashed against the man-creature's body. Kirian raised his head. He watched, attentive to the slightest reaction displayed by the human. A low moan sounded from his lips. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. Alarm widened his eyes as he stared into the warm, golden eye of the unicorn.

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The forest became threatening as darkness touched the eastern horizon. June sat on an age-grayed stump, clutched her shawl, and wrapped it tighter around her. She was chilled, but not by the coolness of descending evening. The forest chilled her. Desperately, she ignored the cold, creeping finger of fear that twisted slowly around her spine.　

Not sure what she had expected, June was nevertheless disappointed by the scraggly, withered growth around her. According to the valley legends, years beyond counting had passed since the forest was last plush with greenness. Whispering winds rattled through branches sparsely covered with crumpled brown leaves. To the west, the sun lingered to cast deepening shadows through the forest.

June peered into the shadows, and carefully stood up. She felt as if she might shatter if she moved too quickly in the eerie halflight. Though it was time and past to return to the village, she resisted the urge to flee down the winding path to the shack her family now called home. As calmly as she could, she began her long walk home.

Chirps, buzzes and whistles accompanied her as nocturnal insects did whatever it was they were doing. June had no interest in discovering more about them. In an effort to keep her burgeoning fear at bay, she thought about Dimian. Mother curse him, he had lied to her.

Unicorns, June knew, were mythical creatures. They didn't exit. Yet, here she was, traipsing about in the Dying Forest searching for the impossible. Blessed Mother, why? To make a fool of you , she told herself bitterly. He's just like the others. Quit trying to believe he's not.

Dimian, tall and lean, mahogany hair, golden eyes, lips that smiled easily, broad shoulders, narrow hips, and calloused but gentle, capable hands... June could see him in her mind. He confused her, sometimes angered her, always fascinated her. He was the only other person she had ever known to have eyes the exact same shade of amber as her own.

Anger flared, curbing her fear, as she imagined him laughing at her. The people of Rathnel had little use for southerners. Even less for scholars, such as June's father. It seemed Dimian had more in common with the villagers than she had believed.

As June walked, the evening darkened around her. Impenetrable shadows settled beneath trees and shrubs, in every crack of every boulder, in each fold in the side of the mountain. She walked faster.

June had defended her father's profession to Dimian, but not her father. A cold, heartless little man, Thorn never allowed June to forget that she was tolerated only for her abilities with the scraper and sifter, since her mother, April, passed into the Mother's welcoming arms. Still, June believed Shandrii had need of men who traveled the world searching out the secrets of the Lost Times.

Heretic, Dimian had called her father. June shook her head. She snapped a dry twig off a crynel bush as she walked past. Wishing it was Dimian's neck, she broke it into tiny pieces, then strewed them along the edge of the path.

Though she tried to blame Dimian, her inborn honesty forced her to accept responsibility. If she hadn't shown him the crystal figurine, the exquisite form of a unicorn at rest, he would never have known of her fascination for the mythical creature the mountain people worshiped as the Lord of Shandrii. Dimian had pretended interest.

Longing for companionship in the unfriendly village, June had offered to show him the rest of her collection. A scrap of iridescent bone she believed to be a chip of unicorn's horn, the small woven tapestry picturing a unicorn standing defiantly on a mountain crag, a chipped and cracked mug with a unicorn painted on the side. Save for the crystal figurine, all were items she had found while working at numerous excavation sites for her father. April, June's mother, had given her the figurine on her confirmation day, the day she became an adult before the Mother's Holy Ones.

Window lights in the village gleamed like miniature stars below the ledge June walked on. No more than another hour, she assured herself, shivering. The temperature continued to drop steadily. Weariness slowed her pace. The sun had long past taken refuge in the Mother's bosom. Only Jaari, the early moon, lighted her path. New insect voices joined in the chorus around her. June had almost become accustomed to the sounds, when they abruptly hushed. She stopped, head tilted, and listened.

Silence, heavy with danger, lay on the ledge. The rustling wind died away, leaving the air thick and still. Up the trail behind her, there was a sharp snap, then a muted crackle as something moved toward her through the dead leaves and twigs covering the path. Her imagination filled her mind with all the horrible tales the villagers told of the mutilated remains of those foolish enough to venture into the Dying Forest of the Sacred Mountain after nightfall.

June turned her head slowly, and searched the trail for whatever was coming after her, though she was not really sure that she wanted to know. Beneath the scraggly branches of a kimple nut tree twenty paces behind her, a dark silhouette took form. The shadow moved closer, closer. Her feet refused to move, refused to run.

Overhead, Lanara, the second moon, slipped from behind the clouds that had veiled her. Silvery green moonlight lit the mountainside. June's stomach clenched tight. She fought the faintness spinning into and out of her mind. Slowly, so slowly, the shadow moved toward her, changing from black to gray in the moonlight.

June prayed she would live to return to her home. Before she joined the Mother, she wanted to wring Dimian's neck. Dare you to risk the unicorn? he had asked, laughter shining in his amber eyes. Dare you? She had. Now, she wished she hadn't.

The gray shape stopped. Glowing golden eyes watched her. Still she could not move. Breathing hard, she smothered a sob. It was coming after her again. A scream lodged in her throat, tried to push past her clenched teeth.

Then, moonlight gave the animal form. June gasped, her fear forgotten. A unicorn! Dimian hadn't lied. It was real! Several hands taller than the horses her father used to pull his wagon, the unicorn towered over her. A mane curled profusely about his ears, and under his jaw.

Like a lion's mane, she thought, enraptured by the creature. Her gaze followed the graceful spiral of the horn to the needle sharp point. Shining with a pearlescent glow in the darkness, the horn was as long as her arm. Eyes of liquid sunshine returned her gaze.

"You're real," she whispered. "A real unicorn." She took a step, then another. A spicy, sweet odor wafted to her from the unicorn. It watched her move closer without alarm. As she stopped beside the graceful equine creature, she raised a hand to touch the glistening coat.

The unicorn reared without warning, thrashed the air with his hooves. June dodged the flailing hooves, too surprised to scream. She scrambled back, almost tripping on the hem of her long skirt. The unicorn's shrill neigh shattered the last fragile thread of her control. June turned toward the village, and fled through the dim light, terror blanking her mind to any thought but escape.

Behind her she heard the thrump-thrump, thrump-thrump, of galloping hooves. Holy Blessed Mother, he was chasing her! Leafless branches snagged her hair and shawl, scratched her arms and face. Thrump-thrump, thrump-thrump, closer, closer. June glanced back.

The needle point of the horn was too close; the unicorn was gaining on her. Deep, ragged breaths burned her throat. She knew she couldn't get to the village before the animal caught her. Visions of the beautiful horn piercing her back spurred her on. She ran. Without hope, filled with terror, she ran.

To her left, she saw the dark mouth of the small cave she had explored on her way into the mountain forest. Sobbing a breathless prayer to the Mother, she veered from the path, ran to the cave. She rushed inside, then staggered to the deeper darkness at the back. She dropped to her knees. Shivering with fear, she stared at the mouth of her refuge. Please, she moaned to herself, don't come in here. Don't!

The unicorn stopped outside. He shook his head, pawed the ground. Rearing, he challenged her, his wild neigh reverberating through the small cave. June huddled close to the limestone floor, shut her eyes, and willed the creature she had longed to see for so many years to go away. The clip-clop of his hooves echoed in the cave. Again, his neigh shattered the air, seemed to come at her from every direction. She screamed, clapped her hands over her ears.

"Go away," she shouted. "Go away!"

Finally, silence descended. June sat very still for a long time, then looked up. The moonlight outside the cave provided a brilliant backdrop for the silhouette that stood between June and the cave's mouth. Swallowing convulsively, she craned her neck back, stared up at the unicorn standing over her.

A glimmer of light shimmered up the length of his horn, danced on the sharp point. By slow degrees, the unicorn bent his head toward her. Unable to move, or even breathe, June watched the point of his horn come closer. The stiletto sharp tip pierced her shawl and bodice, stopped as it came into contact with the flesh of her left shoulder. June gasped aloud.

An arm's length away, the unicorn's glowing eyes lit up his face from mane to muzzle. June's gaze was trapped by the brilliance of the unicorn's. A steady thrum swept through June's mind. She couldn't think clearly. Dizzily, she clutched her shawl, terrified that she might loose all sense of balance and fall on the horn pressing over her heart.

Dazzling colors swirled just behind her eyes, painful in their brightness. June moaned, closed her eyes. She let her head fall forward, her chin coming to rest on the folds of her shawl. The thrum pulsing through her mind grew stronger, shaking her bone deep. Then, as suddenly as it came, it was gone.

Are you One of the Two, small creature?

Startled, June looked up. Gold eyes regarded her calmly. She forced herself to look past the unicorn. She searched the cave for the owner of the voice. No one. She and the unicorn were alone.

"Who's there? Help me, please!" Her voice echoed, then re-echoed through the cave.

Are you One?

There were no echoes. June turned her dazed eyes back to the pools of gold light. "Who. . .what....Oh!"

Intelligence flickered in the depths of the unicorn's amber eyes. And with it, an urgent curiosity. Are you One of the Two?

"Two what?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

The Two Who Come.

"I don't thin..." June stopped mid-word. The pressure of the horn bore down on her flesh.

It is forbidden for any save the Two to enter the Sacred Mountain on the Night of the Twin Moons. Are you One?

One what? June dared not ask. Dimian knows, she thought irrationally. She looked deep into the unicorn's eyes, and knew she couldn't lie. Somehow, the unicorn would know.

"If I am One," she said, after a moment, "I do not know that I am." She tensed, waiting for the horn to stab forward, part the muscles of her heart.

After an eternity, the unicorn backed away, his gaze no longer demanding. Well spoken for One so young. Go now. The Other will come to you on the Prophet's Night, for you are One of the Two for whom All shall be revealed.

"I'm one of the two? Why me?"

Do not ask of me the reasons of your life, small creature. He whickered in a way June thought to be laughter. The unicorn touched her again with the horn's shimmering tip. Warmth entered her chilled body, chased away her fear and fatigue. A feeling of well-being filled her completely.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Why did you chase me?"

I am Kirian, Lord of Shandrii. I chased you, small one, because you ran.

June felt that he was still laughing at her. "You frightened me, when you reared."

I was not yet sure you were One. Only the Two may touch immortality.

"I don't understand."

Again, I say, do not ask of me your life's mysteries. I am Kirian, He Who Waits. My wait is soon over. With a sharp turn, the unicorn cantered into the still night air.

June was on her feet, running to the cave entrance, before she realized she had moved. "Wait! I still don't understand!"

There was no sign of the unicorn in the strange light of the Twin Moons. Staring about in the stillness of the night, she jumped, startled by the sudden resurgence of the chirping, buzzing and whistling noises made by insects she couldn't see. Four steps below where she stood, she could see the pale ribbon of the path she had earlier walked.

June shook her head, already doubting the reality of the experience. She thought of the magnificent horn that had pierced her shawl and bodice. Fumbling in the darkness to get the glove off her right hand, she reached up to prove to herself that the fabric of both was unmarred. She had had a waking nightmare, nothing more.

Relief seeped through her when she couldn't find a tear in her shawl. Fear swept away the relief, though, when she located a small round hole in her bodice. Trembling, she held the fabric away from her breast. In the moons' light, she examined the hole in her dress.

It had happened. It wasn't a dream. As she realized how close to death she had been, she dizzily groped for the stunted kemple nut sapling beside her. She wrapped both hands around the slender trunk, then leaned her forehead on her hands.

The fierce, furnace bright eyes seemed to stare down at her again, unrelenting in their demand that she be something that she was not. Mother curse you, Dimian. When I get my hands on you, I'll... Her knees gave out. She fell to the hardness of the mountain trail.

Darkness swept into her mind, blanking fear, erasing thought. Her mind refused to function. She slid toward oblivion. She struggled to regain control, reached for the brink of consciousness. Curse you, Dimian, she thought. Help me!

"Dimian!" She passed out before the echoes of her scream faded from the mountainside.

© 2010