Introduction

[the_unicorn]

I am a little uneasy among you. The last time I left my forest, I found that most men no longer knew my name; they looked at me and saw only a white mare with the road's dust caked in her hooves, a pretty domesticate whose tangled forelock they longed to trim. Not all of you here are men, of course, but that cannot comfort me. If men no longer

Comments

[pink_shadow]

I don't know your name but I do know what you are, a unicorn. Your kind live in my own world - Fearûn - though even there they are rare.

[the_unicorn]

*pleased* If you know what I am, then you know my name as well.

I have never been to Fearûn, but I hope that its unicorns seem rare to you only because they do not often wish to be seen (or are not often seen for what they are). The alternative--that unicorns are indeed as rare there as they once were here--would come as no surprise to me, though. No matter whether we scatter as far apart as the stars, unicorns will always be hunted.

Does Fearûn have a sea? If so, it may be that the others are hiding there.

[pink_shadow]

I have a feeling the unicorns at home only seem so rare because they avoid people. There are seas, to the west, to the far south and the inland Sea of Fallen Stars - if unicorns have found a way to live in them I have not heard about.

[its_all_junk]

*breathless* Oh my, I never thought I'd ever be able to see...

Unicorn.

I hardly think you need our belief to bless your immortality.

[the_unicorn]

There is a wistfulness about the unicorn's eyes as she studies this extraordinary young woman, though not for the reasons one might think.

It's true that my immortality needs no blessing. It will endure as it always has, regardless of whether or not you believe. And yet I find that I at least want to be believed in, and to be needed now and then.

I did not always feel this way, as there was a time when I thought myself all but indifferent to the beliefs and needs of men. I have since learned that a lack of belief on their part can make a great difference to me indeed; and though I hope I will never again be needed as a gaunt-faced, grey-haired king once needed me, I am now nonetheless bound to what men may need in their lives -- be it grief, peace, or magic.

I am not like the others, you see.

[its_all_junk]

You were changed by your experiences out in the world? That's heartbreaking... A unicorn's innocence is, well, it's the epitome of everything that's good and pure left in the world. Though your awareness could mean hope that the rest of the world is still somehow deserving of a unicorn's attention. :)

[mistersmith_tm]

Wandering through the wood near the abandoned home he inhabits, Mister Smith sees a most breathtakingly beautiful sight. A sight out of a fairytale. A sight of wonder.

He stops and stands as still as he can, not wanting to frighten her. Knowing not to touch her, unless bidden. And in a way he thinks he hears her, within his mind. Within his thoughts.

"I know what you are," Mister Smith says softly. So softly, he's not certain himself if he's spoken aloud. "In my world, where I'm from, Unicorns are symbols of hope and purity and love." He looks sad, this young, disheveled man in the shabby clothes, a battered knapsack slung over one shoulder. "There isn't much of any of those things, where I'm from."

He cocks his head then, as if listening to a Voice that only he can hear, and says, quietly, "Amalthea."

[the_unicorn]

The unicorn thinks she knows this young man, or at least his like; his eyes, full of worship and far too tired for his scant years, have gazed at her out of other faces in the past. It costs her nothing to be the things he wants her to be, and so she stands serene under his regard, content in the knowledge that he will remember her this way no matter where he travels.

And then he says a name -- not her name, but hers, and the unicorn wavers like a guttering flame. For half an instant it seems that she is covered by a whiteness not her own, a whiteness with outstretched fingers and a woman's mouth; but the unicorn lowers her horn, and the image melts away with a sigh

[mistersmith_tm]

Her gaze is terrible and beautiful all at once, and he feels in his heart that he has perhaps offended her in some way. It was not his intent. Perhaps by his very presence, coming across her suddenly, or because the Voice -- that otherness that always seemed to be in the back of his mind -- had given him a name. He knows a lot of things that he shouldn't. Things about the future; about the depths of a person's soul. About pain and love and suffering. He's only an instrument, after all. His life has not been his own for a very long time.

He had not wanted anything other than to say hello, perhaps to welcome her to this strange world that he himself had only recently stumbled into. Instead, he feels as if he has asked too much; that he has intruded.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. It takes some effort but he can turn from her gaze; there is an odd ethereal presence about him. He would never wish harm or to impress his own loneliness on anyone or anything.

"I'm sorry," he says again, and sadly goes back the way he came.

[the_unicorn]

She looks deeply into the young man's own mirror of his mind, and what she sees there proves more difficult for her to bear than the sound of the name he spoke. It is not his transgression that pains her, nor the otherness which imposes upon his innermost thoughts; in and of themselves, these things are no more threatening to the unicorn than the workings of a very purposeful sort of magic (a magic she has been faced with many times before, as her mere presence does tend to aggravate it). She might even take him for a wandering wizard of Schmendrick's ilk, one to whom the wind tossed the name of Amalthea on a whim, and watch him go without being troubled by more than her own stirred regrets.

But he is so lonely, and she feels her seeming rejection of him has dealt him an ugly wound; not fatal by any means, but still one that she can never remedy. The fact that he does not cringe as he turns away from her only makes it worse. No, she thinks, guilt is not for me, not for any unicorn -- but she is not like any other unicorn. The

[i_am_fuchsia]

I had come looking for you, but it seems that I have found you when you are distracted and busy with other things. I will come back another time, if you prefer.

[the_unicorn]

The unicorn has already gone off in search of the one who spoke a name she needed to hear. But when she returns to the lilac wood, she will undoubtedly sense that the Lady Fuchsia has visited in her absence, and seek her out as she has promised to do.

(OOC: My apologies for the very belated response! I'm afraid the unicorn's mun is the one who's most easily distracted around here.)

[i_am_fuchsia]

*Fuchsia reads the message left by the exquisite creature, but sighs wistfully.*

Yet will I know it if I am visited? For in the time since last I looked for the Unicorn and now, so much has happened. Things are changed -- not necessarily for the worse, but changed all the same. I do not know if I would now be able to see a unicorn anymore.

[slytherinsilver]

*can scarcely believe his eyes; it's a rare thing to see a unicorn outside of the Forbidden Forest that borders Hogwarts, even rarer still to see one alone*

*softly, not wanting to frighten the creature away*

Hello, beautiful.

[the_unicorn]

*she lifts her head, delicate ears pricking around the seashell spiral that is her horn, and looks at the boy--is he really a boy, she wonders? he must be, yet he seems as if he could be as calculating as a grown man thrice his years--with the oblique glance that belongs to her alone; not quite human, not quite animal, her dark eyes reflect the purest form of magic*

And who might you be, good sir? *her voice is a little playful, but sincere around the address; if a unicorn calls you good, then for that moment you must feel that you are not only good, but the best, the worthiest you have ever been*

[slytherinsilver]

*gently, moving forward slowly*

My name's Draco, Beautiful. I haven't seen one of your kind in quite a while.

*suddenly feels as if he could take on the world, smiles shyly*

[the_unicorn]

*for all her fragility the unicorn is not really a skittish creature, and rather than shy away as he moves closer, she calmly stands her ground. she is not afraid, but curious, and when he speaks of her kind her shining white aura seems to double its radiance*

You've seen others like me, then? *delighted, she extends her slender neck in his direction, closing most of the remaining distance between them; if he dared, he would have only to lift his hand for his fingertips to brush the soft fall of her mane*

Your world must be full of more magic than when I last ventured there, if you have seen more than one unicorn in your life, Draco.