Where do unicorns go?

By Belldandy-sama

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Chapter three: Sleipnir

                                When the shadows of the dusk erupted into stars,

                                And the rising moon shall release her heavenly light,

                                Even though the planet is wounded and covered in scars,

                                I'll search to the end of the world in this pitiful sight.

                                Running through forests, through sea and through sky,                        

                                Devoting my life to each one that is born,

                                Though we are all condemned and sentence to die,

                                I will forever be the guardian of the divine unicorn.

                "Are you sure this is the right way?" She had to practically scream this over the howling wind and rumble on congested traffic.

"Positive!" He called back, twice as loud.

"But Ameia Crescent is three blocks away to the left!"

"It's faster this way!"

"It would have been eight times faster if we took the bike!"

"We can't!" They tore into a busy street and people dived to get out of their way. The demons were stopping for no one. "The noise might frighten the stallion off!"

"It's an eight-legged immortal unicorn guardian! I think it would take more than a bloody motorbike to freak it out!"

"Have you ever met an eight-legged immortal unicorn guardian before?"

"No, why?"

"It could have an allergy to fuel injection!"

"Dante, this isn't the time for your stupid jokes!"

He forced her into a sharp turning to the left, grabbing her wrist before she fell and they carried on. There was no traffic down here, no people either. It was a dark, quiet and rather dangerous looking alleyway. Trish didn't personally like the look of it at all, nor did she like the feel of it, but none of that was important to her at that moment, they had to find that stallion.

"Man, this place is a little bit quiet…" Dante skidded to a halt. "This place is usually full of sub-demons, what the hell is going on?"

Trish couldn't reply, too busy with trying to reclaim her breath. The howling wind blew her golden hair into a storm in its own right and she shivered with the cold, even from within her thick black leather trench coat. "Which way now?"

Dante scanned the area, there were only two ways to go, one of them was to turn back they way they came, or to go straight forward. "This way."

Trish followed him further down the narrow street, their boots making crunching noises under the random stones. Their hair blew back and the wind, Trish's golden waves glinting under the musty streetlight. Their senses were sharpened, listening for anything, looking for everything of the stallions' whereabouts.

"Now what?" She shivered as they came to a dead end.

Dante walked on a few steps into the darkness, feeling with his fingers along the cracks in the wall that prevented them from going any further. The way these cracks had nearly shattered the stone – it wasn't natural. Someone, or something, must have hit it hard.

"Dante, it's a wall," Trish grumbled; "It's flat, it's made of brick and no it doesn't make very good conversation either. So get your arse over it or we're going to miss Sleipnir's little visit."

"Why? Are you scared?" He mocked over his shoulder.

She scowled, "I have no reason to be scared. I'm just a little worried that we won't find the stallion, that's all."

A dangerous smile inched itself over his face as she spoke. She was scared; she just didn't want to admit it, not in front of him.

"Trish Trish Trish…" he whispered as he approached her and placed his gloved hands heavily on her shoulders. "Dearest Trish. My Trish."

His Trish?

She only stared back up at him, her sapphire eye gazing into his own blue-grey ones. Once again, the dark smirk. "You smell sweet tonight Trish."

She'd heard it all before, it was just another way of making her think it would all lead to something, it was his way of tormenting her, something he seemed to gain sick pleasure from.

So she answered her comment as sarcastically as she could, "Well unlike some people Dante…" she started, mirroring his smirk to spite him, "I wash."

He snorted at this comment, "Do you taste as sweet as you smell Trish?"

Again, another teasing comment.

"That," she grunted, "Would be none of your business." But excitement wavered her voice.

His eyes just narrowed and his lowered his head; Trish could feel his hot breath against her face. Her eyes closed slowly, waiting for the kiss, for the moment their lips would finally join after all these mouths.

But it never came, he just turned away and let go of her shoulders, "Time's a wasting Trish."

She clenched her fists in anger. Again. He had led her on again. She was getting sick of it, but they had never gotten that close before. She went to say something about it, but bit her tongue and said something else, "Well… then you better hurry up! I'm freezing here!"

Dante ignored her and she sighed impatiently, folding her arms tightly across her chest in a futile attempt to try and keep warm and stamping her foot like a small child. She just wanted to get this over and done with, but of course she was intrigued about the stallion as well. The thought of meeting a – no – the unicorn guardian was an honour any immortal, in mortal in that case, would die for. She scowled again, "What are you doing?"

"There's a demon here."

"What?!" She walked over briskly to join him, still trembling from the cold, though it didn't seem to be bothering Dante at all. "What demon is it? Why hasn't it attacked?"

Dante should his at the pitiful crumbled heap of flesh and bone in front of him, "It was just a Niyra. A third class, it looks like. It's dead."

"Uuuughh…" Trish made a face in pure disgust. "How do you think it died?"

"Looks like it's been trampled on," he looked up at her with deathly calm, "By hooves. Lots of them. Sleipnir must have passed though here at some point."

"So where did he go? And how did he manage to get through that busy street without getting noticed? Somehow I don't think people would consider an eight-legged horse trotting down the streets an everyday thing…"

He looked around and up at one of the buildings, "Perhaps he wouldn't have to."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it Trish, what did the book say about his abilities?"

"Ummm…" she fumbled in her memory, trying to recall it; "That he could run for days at a time through forest, sea and sky." She frowned, "What's your point?"

Dante pointed up at the roof of a neighbouring building, "He's been using the roofs. He's been jumping the distances and of course he thinks demons are a threat, so when he sees one he'll deal with it."

Trish rolled her eyes, "Man, I can't believe a horse's doing our job…"

"Well that horse's powerful, it's shattered every bone in this Nirya's body, and these demons are supposed to be tough, even if they are only third class."

"So now what then?"

"What else?" he looked up at the wall; "Let's go." He backed up a few steps back and took a running jump, reaching right up to the top of the wall and landing on his feet perfectly at the top.

"It's too cold to jump!" came Trish's grumbling cry, but Dante pretended not to hear and started to walk off. "Dante! Don't you dare leave without me!"

He was only a few meters away when he felt her grip his arm and pull it harshly. "Don't do that again!"

"Well, you were slow."

The wind was fiercer up here; it tugged greedily at their hair and made their coats flutter frantically. Dante just decided to bear it, as he did every time, but Trish was freezing, pulling her coat tighter around and wishing she hadn't worn such a small dress.

He felt her push into his side to try and keep warm and looked down at her in amusement; she was tiny compared to him, she must have been at least a foot smaller.

"You're cold, aren't you?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything. A dangerous smirk passed his lips and he wrapped an arm around her. "Don't worry, we'll find that stallion and get out of the cold soon enough."

"What are we going to do once we find it?"

Dante shrugged, "Eeiee. Probably wait and see what he does, I guess."

"Then can we at least get of off this roof? I mean, its freezing."

He snorted, once again in amusement, "This way then." Again he took a running jump and leaped a three meter gap from one roof to another. Trish followed hurriedly, though she couldn't help thinking that leaping mindlessly from one roof to another was somewhat risky. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's quicker this way."

"Well, it's not like we haven't wasted enough time already…"

He shrugged at this comment and leaped over to yet another roof.

"Will you stop doing that?!" She snapped as she joined him, "Really! You're terrible!"

"Down there," he said simply, pointing to a deserted car park on what had obviously become the rougher part of town. "I can sense something coming from down there."

The car park was only small, with space enough what must be about eight cars and was surrounded by mostly empty garages.

"Are you sure?"

Again his only reply was to leap from the building, onto one of the garage roofs and landed on the concrete perfectly.

"Why can't you just listen to me, just for once?!"  she snapped, following him down into the empty open space. "You know, I'm sure you do it on purpose, just to irritate me! Well congratulations, you've won a gold star!"

"Shhhh-hhh-hhh…" he slipped his hand over her mouth; "Listen."

She was quiet, straining her ears for anything out of the ordinary. "I hear nothing."

"Exactly," he whispered; "No cars, no people, no sign of the usual city business, everything's just… too quiet."

He was right. There were no dogs barking as usual, no sign of the crows that usually cawed strangely in this part of the city. Just… silence.

"Odd," Dante shook his head; "This is really really weird, I don't like it one bit."

"Hmmmm…" Trish took a few steps forward and looked around the deserted area, it was just as cold here, but the garages blocked the howling wind from stinging at her like it had previously. Or maybe it was something else?

"There's nothing here, Dante."

"Yes there is…" he began to stalk around the car park, looking for hoof prints, maybe a tail hair, anything that would show this place had been recently visited by a horse. "There must be something, I can feel it, something strong, and it's as holy as they come."

"Dante…" she whispered, suddenly aware of a noise he obviously hadn't heard. She received no reply so she spoke louder, "Dante."

"Ya?" He turned around to face her.

"What's that noise?"

"Huh?"

It was like a small scratching noise, followed by a sliding. Trish took a few steps back and looked up at one of the garage roofs; it was coming from up there. Twisted, it sounded like whatever it was, was dragging the entire spilled contents of its body along with it. A sick, slimy, dragging sound. Whatever it was, it wasn't a horse.

Trish shrieked in terror as something slid off the roof and landed at her feet in a furrowed mound; she couldn't make out what it was. The creature was soaked in its own blood, one eye was missing, with the other blood shot one staring out at her like a curse. Its body was battered to the point of non-recognition and something spilled from its throat. She was nearly sick as she realised it was its own intestines.

"What the hell…?" Dante ran over to her and pulled her back; "For crying out loud, be careful! Some demons are poisonous, even in death."

She bit her lip and clung onto his arm like a terrified child. She was normally used to blood and gore, but this was truly disgusting.

"Well I can't make out what kinda demon it is, well, was." He said after closer inspection, much to Trish's revulsion, "Whoever attacked it battered it real bad."

"Do you think it was Sleipnir again?"

"Prob-" his voice rang off at another sound. Not a sliding this time but a gentle *clop clop clop* of hooves.

Trish gripped Dante's arm tighter and he placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly as the noise increased. It sounded like there was more than one horse there, it sounded like there were two of them.

After what seemed like forever a shadowed figure appeared at the entrance of the car park and stood still. Even though it was still dark they could both see that it was huge, perhaps seven or eight feet tall.

"Umm…" Trish tugged at his arm, but his eyes continued to fix onto the beast, as if fascinated; "Is it me or has it gotten a little uh… bigger to you?"

Dante said nothing, but tightened his grip on her; could it be that even he was perhaps a little… frightened?

The figure turned its head and stared at them; even through the darkness they could feel its gaze pierce them like a silver bullet to a werewolf. Then it started towards them, slow, gentle strides. They were frozen to the spot, neither of them could move.

"Shit…!" Trish but her lip and whispered. "It's huge…!"

Dante also tried to keep his voice level to the minimum, "It's just a pony."

"Pony?" Trish whispered harshly, "Pony?! Dante, that 'pony' is eight feet tall!"

They were both able to step back a little as the figure stepped into view. It was Sleipnir, there was no mistaking it.

The magnificent beast was coated in jet black fur, with a long silver mane trailing down his neck and back in silken streams and great glossy tresses of a colourless tail reached right down to the ground. Its neck was arched proudly and its body strong and sturdy. Its eight black hooves hitting the ground loudly and its head raised, showing an expression of pride and perhaps even pity.

Its patience murdered the air as he made his steady way over to them in gentle strides, satisfied that they wouldn't run, that they wouldn't fight. After his great display of strength, it was the least they could guarantee. Why, the demon he had just beaten was a first class and it fell like a babe to a knife. No demon, humanoid or otherwise, could stand a chance against him.

But these two… they were different; the smelt different, the aura was dissimilar around them. He came a stop only about half a meter in front of the female and glared down at her. There was unholy blood in her, he could sense it, but her own scent was stained with the aroma of demon blood. Other demons blood.

He snorted in her path and she drew back a little, terrified. She was a demon, no mistaking it, but there was something about her… something holding him back from lunging at her and crushing her skull against the hard concrete like he had done to all those demons before her.

Sleipnir's gaze turned to the other one. This one didn't look like a demon, but he was still thinking 'dragon.' There was more to this one than there was to the female; what with his silken tresses of silver and ironically innocent eyes. Since when did demons have silver hair? It was a sign, usually, of a heavenly deity.

Glaring down at both of them, forcing the female to divert her eyes, she couldn't take his gaze. But the male… the male was different. He stared back up at him and, although his expression held some fear, his eyes wouldn't leave the stallions. He simply refused to look away.

A sign of pride.

                It was the stallion who finally shattered the deathly silence. His voice was deep, yet somehow gentle. His mouth did not move, the voice just seemed to echo from his throat and into their minds. For when this creature spoke, he did not speak out loud.

"You are clearing not a demon," he said, eyeing Dante disgustedly; "Yet you are no human either. What are you?"

Just the very thought of this horse talking to them through their minds was clearly enough for Trish and she squealed in fear, pushing herself as close up to Dante as she could possible manage.

He wrapped his arms around her protectively and held her close to his chest, "I am the son of Sparda. Perhaps your kind has heard of him?"

"Sparda?" Sleipnir's ears pricked at this information; "Not… the Legendary Dark Knight, surely?"

"You know him then?" Dante stroked Trish's hair as her heard her give a loud whimper, she really was truly terrified.

"I was his mount in the Holy War of the Underworld," the stallion replied, his voice suddenly threatening; "I carried him for miles, we fought together, we were brothers, he and I." He gave a snort of disgust through his large nostrils, "And now you tell me that you are his son? That is a fools claim! You speak with a sour tongue; Sparda's true son would never speak with such disrespect."

Dante frowned.

"And she," His gaze turned to Trish, who was still whimpering into Dante's chest, "Is she a devil or a rat? I can sense the demonic connection, yet she whines like a young Avalii. Pitiful indeed."

"You're frightening her," Dante growled; "If you stop towering above her like a tyrant then she might relax a little. We don't care if you're a heavenly guardian or whatever, but if you keep scaring the hell outta her then she won't stop whining."

Sleipnir looked uncomfortable, obviously insulted by this comment. "Step back," he ordered, "I will not follow."

Dante did as he was told until there was at least a meters distance between them. "Come on Trish…" he whispered in her ear, "I don't think this guy wants to hurt us."

She sniffed and opened her eyes, which were streaming with tears of pure terror. The stallions' eyes gazed back at her, suddenly gentle. But her fear still remained and she gripped Dante tighter. But even his arm slipping gently around her waist couldn't get rid of the dread.

"She's never scared of anything," Dante growled as the stallions gaze fell to him, "So I don't know why she is now."

"All demons that cross my path quiver in fear," the stallion snorted; "However you do not."

"Why would I be afraid of a pony?"

Sleipnir was obviously to mature to rise to this comment, though he stomped one of his hooves angrily. "Once again you show disrespect in your tone, demon."

"All we wanna know is why you're here, why have you come to New York when you have a duty protecting the unicorns? You won't find any here."

"I have come here searching for the son of Sparda."

Dante just stared.

"I heard a rumour amongst the demon tribe that he was here, in this very city. But now you tell me that you are the son of Sparda, I am having second thoughts."

"You needed my help?"

"Unfortunately, I do." He took one step closer and Dante felt Trish shiver in his arms. "Demon, do you know how many unicorns are left in the world?"

"Okay, for a start my names Dante, okay? Dante, not Demon."

Sleipnir snorted.

"And secondly, no. I don't have a clue."

"There are no less than only seven unicorns left on this earth."

"Is that it?"

The stallion nodded his magnificent head.

Trish jumped and looked around slowly, "Y-you mean… they… they s-still exist?"

He nodded again, "They do."

Dante felt her relax in his arms, "Why do you need our help?"

"There have been a small army of demons been sighted around the forests of Yggdrasil, where this small herd of unicorns still remain. It is possible that they may be after the unicorns for their master."

"Why?" asked Trish quietly.

"Is it not obvious?"

"Their horn…" Dante whispered.

The stallion heard this and nodded abruptly, "That is correct."

"Dante…" he heard the quiet whisper and looked down at the tiny blonde cradled in his arms; "I would do anything to help the unicorns."

He nodded and faced the stallion again, looking at him straight in the eye once more. "Just tell us what we have to do."

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End of chapter three

Update in a day or two. (Tired as hell, been pulling all nighters on this one.)

Ummm…  I think I'm getting some people a little confused. The Sleipnir I refer to in the fic is the mount of Odin from Norsen legend. He has been used by the Final Fantasy people quite a few times but he is traditionally from ancient legends. Sorry I never explain that earlier.

Also, thanks to all my reviewers. This will eventually blossom into a sweet romance/fantasy adventure fic. Beware, from now on its going to get a little bit mushy. ^^

Okay, leave a review now. You know you want to. The more reviews I get the faster the chapters come out.