"...and so that's how I came to be mortal," finished the unicorn as
she and the Whistler walked through the forest. She had just finished
telling the Whistler her story, of being the last of her kind and of
destroying the Red Bull and saving her brothers and sisters only to realize
she was no longer like any of them.
The Whistler had kept her head down through the whole time, listening intently to the unicorn's story without interrupting at all. Now that the story was over, she looked up again. "Your story is so sad," she whispered solemnly. "Now it is my turn."
The Whistler looked down again; apparently the story of her life pained her as well. 'Perhaps,' thought the unicorn, 'I am not the only one who feels regret, perhaps...'
"I lived far away from here," began the Whistler, "Long before we were taken to the ocean. I lived in the Jade Forest with many other unicorns.
"It was in a time of dread, the summer rains had abandoned us and the trees and plants grew dry and brittle. Our power was weak and we could not heal the plants so many animals died. That was when I did not have a name, when I was like you and every other unicorn in the world.
"It was in this horrible drought that the unicorns of the Jade Forest first met man. They were hunting in our woods and in my great curiosity, I followed them through the forest. They caught no game at all, but I still followed them further into the forest until I did not recognize my surroundings.
"The entire woods had changed. No longer was it the dusty gold of dying plants nor the lush green color it used to be, it was silver! I ceased following the hunters to gaze at this marvelous place; surely it was not part of the Jade Forest.
"The hunters rode on, as if they didn't realize the sudden change in scenery. Looking around, I realized I was on a very tall mountain. The base of the mountain was golden, the Jade Forest. But as the land slanted upwards, the trees abruptly turned silver.
"I was amazed at the sight, and raced through the woods looking for any inhabitants of this strange forest, there were none. Soon I came across a steep stone cliff where I saw the most magnificent thing ever. The Royal Sunrise."
Here, the Whistler stopped telling her story and put her head down until her muzzle nearly touched the dirt path they were walking on. She was thinking, and her face held such a wounded expression that the unicorn dared not speak.
It was only when the Whistler lifted her head back up did the unicorn decide to ask her question. "My dear Whistler," she said, "Please continue your story, what is the Royal Sunrise?"
"The Royal Sunrise," continued the Whistler without hesitation, "Is the most beautiful thing ever. Words cannot describe the beauty of this sunrise nor can they portray how sad it feels to watch. The Royal Sunrise represents the loss of magic over the years.
"Ever since man first came to live among the unicorns and other mystical animals of this world, they have stolen our magic and our powers. They have robbed us of our abilities until the unicorns seem no more than old white horses. But man does not know how to handle the magic they have taken from us, so it leaves them.
"When the magic left man, it journeyed back to the unicorns, but the unicorns were too weak to accept all the power, so the magic journeyed to a silver mountain on the edge of time where it stayed in a mass of colors and hues. That is the Royal Sunrise."
The unicorn knew what Whistler was talking about, she had heard of the unicorns' loss of power, but she, in all her years, never knew what became of the magic after it left man.
"To see it made my heart tear in two, I felt small and helpless in front of the magic. It was like an aurora, an aurora of supreme magic, and it changed me forever."
"What do you mean?" asked the unicorn. "What does the Royal Sunrise have to do with your new name, and your difference?"
"The sunrise spoke to me," continued the Whistler, "Not in words, but I could hear it in my head, in symbols and sounds. I don't know if I have been blessed by the magic, or cursed, but from then on I was different from all unicorns.
"I was no longer as graceful or as beautiful as the others. I could feel my body aging and dying. My horn, now a mere shadow of its former glory, lost all its magical power. It was as if the Royal Sunrise had drained immortality right out of my body."
They stopped walking, and, looking over at the Whistler, the unicorn suddenly realized how sorrowful the young unicorn was. It was only then did she see that the Whistler was almost just like her, she was mortal.
"If only I hadn't followed those hunters through the forest," said the Whistler sadly, "If only I had just turned back when I realized the forest I was in was unknown to me. Yes, unicorn, I am mortal, a disgrace to the name of unicorns. That is why I have a name, that is why I can no longer act or live like a unicorn and it is why I regret.
"When I returned home, the others knew I was different from them. Hardly any would even speak to me as mortality frightened those who never die of age. One old unicorn did speak to me, she was very wise and ancient and I still remember the way she looked at me with such pity when I asked her if she knew of the Royal Sunrise.
"After she told me about the sunrise, she also said this: 'My child, The Royal Sunrise does not curse, or bless, it changes. The sunrise knows your purpose in life, and it knew that you needed to change. My heart tells me your greatest adventure has only begun and the supreme magic will help you more, trust me young one, trust me.'
"Two years after that, the Red Bull entered our forest, and chased us into the sea." concluded the Whistler.
After her story, the two unicorns were silent for a while. The only things to be heard were the crickets hiding amongst the trees. 'The Whistler is just like me,' thought the unicorn sadly, 'but what did the old one mean by an adventure? How can something as terrible as becoming mortal be such a wonderful thing?'
The Whistler had kept her head down through the whole time, listening intently to the unicorn's story without interrupting at all. Now that the story was over, she looked up again. "Your story is so sad," she whispered solemnly. "Now it is my turn."
The Whistler looked down again; apparently the story of her life pained her as well. 'Perhaps,' thought the unicorn, 'I am not the only one who feels regret, perhaps...'
"I lived far away from here," began the Whistler, "Long before we were taken to the ocean. I lived in the Jade Forest with many other unicorns.
"It was in a time of dread, the summer rains had abandoned us and the trees and plants grew dry and brittle. Our power was weak and we could not heal the plants so many animals died. That was when I did not have a name, when I was like you and every other unicorn in the world.
"It was in this horrible drought that the unicorns of the Jade Forest first met man. They were hunting in our woods and in my great curiosity, I followed them through the forest. They caught no game at all, but I still followed them further into the forest until I did not recognize my surroundings.
"The entire woods had changed. No longer was it the dusty gold of dying plants nor the lush green color it used to be, it was silver! I ceased following the hunters to gaze at this marvelous place; surely it was not part of the Jade Forest.
"The hunters rode on, as if they didn't realize the sudden change in scenery. Looking around, I realized I was on a very tall mountain. The base of the mountain was golden, the Jade Forest. But as the land slanted upwards, the trees abruptly turned silver.
"I was amazed at the sight, and raced through the woods looking for any inhabitants of this strange forest, there were none. Soon I came across a steep stone cliff where I saw the most magnificent thing ever. The Royal Sunrise."
Here, the Whistler stopped telling her story and put her head down until her muzzle nearly touched the dirt path they were walking on. She was thinking, and her face held such a wounded expression that the unicorn dared not speak.
It was only when the Whistler lifted her head back up did the unicorn decide to ask her question. "My dear Whistler," she said, "Please continue your story, what is the Royal Sunrise?"
"The Royal Sunrise," continued the Whistler without hesitation, "Is the most beautiful thing ever. Words cannot describe the beauty of this sunrise nor can they portray how sad it feels to watch. The Royal Sunrise represents the loss of magic over the years.
"Ever since man first came to live among the unicorns and other mystical animals of this world, they have stolen our magic and our powers. They have robbed us of our abilities until the unicorns seem no more than old white horses. But man does not know how to handle the magic they have taken from us, so it leaves them.
"When the magic left man, it journeyed back to the unicorns, but the unicorns were too weak to accept all the power, so the magic journeyed to a silver mountain on the edge of time where it stayed in a mass of colors and hues. That is the Royal Sunrise."
The unicorn knew what Whistler was talking about, she had heard of the unicorns' loss of power, but she, in all her years, never knew what became of the magic after it left man.
"To see it made my heart tear in two, I felt small and helpless in front of the magic. It was like an aurora, an aurora of supreme magic, and it changed me forever."
"What do you mean?" asked the unicorn. "What does the Royal Sunrise have to do with your new name, and your difference?"
"The sunrise spoke to me," continued the Whistler, "Not in words, but I could hear it in my head, in symbols and sounds. I don't know if I have been blessed by the magic, or cursed, but from then on I was different from all unicorns.
"I was no longer as graceful or as beautiful as the others. I could feel my body aging and dying. My horn, now a mere shadow of its former glory, lost all its magical power. It was as if the Royal Sunrise had drained immortality right out of my body."
They stopped walking, and, looking over at the Whistler, the unicorn suddenly realized how sorrowful the young unicorn was. It was only then did she see that the Whistler was almost just like her, she was mortal.
"If only I hadn't followed those hunters through the forest," said the Whistler sadly, "If only I had just turned back when I realized the forest I was in was unknown to me. Yes, unicorn, I am mortal, a disgrace to the name of unicorns. That is why I have a name, that is why I can no longer act or live like a unicorn and it is why I regret.
"When I returned home, the others knew I was different from them. Hardly any would even speak to me as mortality frightened those who never die of age. One old unicorn did speak to me, she was very wise and ancient and I still remember the way she looked at me with such pity when I asked her if she knew of the Royal Sunrise.
"After she told me about the sunrise, she also said this: 'My child, The Royal Sunrise does not curse, or bless, it changes. The sunrise knows your purpose in life, and it knew that you needed to change. My heart tells me your greatest adventure has only begun and the supreme magic will help you more, trust me young one, trust me.'
"Two years after that, the Red Bull entered our forest, and chased us into the sea." concluded the Whistler.
After her story, the two unicorns were silent for a while. The only things to be heard were the crickets hiding amongst the trees. 'The Whistler is just like me,' thought the unicorn sadly, 'but what did the old one mean by an adventure? How can something as terrible as becoming mortal be such a wonderful thing?'
