wow. 'tis been awhile. such neglect... thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review; you guys are more awesome than you can possibly know.
In between the brown bark of the trees, he could see silver-white that could belong to nothing usual. He ducked under a branch; it swatted at him reproachfully but let him pass. Into the presence of the unicorn.
He was tall, and beautiful, a beauty that transcended nature and adjective. His was a beauty that defied sex--it was gossamer: delicately, utterly masculine. He looked just like her, and looked more unlike her than the very embodiments of yin and yang. Half and whole.
Halves, yes. And that was why they were here.
First, formalities. He doffed his hat. "Koshayn," he said gravely.
The other afforded the man a great honor: he bowed, the tip of his translucent-moon horn scratching the dirt; the scraping noise was like a profanity. He was proud, but things had changed--how they had changed!--and now he was humbled. Once, we were perfect... we were even perfect in the sea... "Schmendrick. Thank you for seeing me."
The magician sighed lightly. "As if I had a choice."
"There is always a choice." The unicorn raised his head and regarded Schmendrick sideways, one wise eye trained in careful scrutiny. "We must control our choice. You know this perhaps better than anyone."
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"Then you know..." Koshayn stopped, hesitating over the magnitude of what he needed to say but knew not how, or where to begin. "Your... your Amalthea," he said finally. "What... what is she like? I mean to say... is she acting... like herself?"
Schmendrick sank onto a rock, elbows driving into his knees, head in his hands. "She is... she is as close to a ghost as one might be while still living." He had a nasty feeling he knew where this was heading. And a nastier feeling that they both knew what had to be done. Still, to ensure this, he had a question. A question that would hurt as much as his own answer before. "And... your...?"
Koshayn looked away; the night breeze rustled the leaves in the trees but steered around him, whistling past without disturbing his body. Even as the quiet moan mourned, his mane and tail hung still, as if he, two, were a ghost. "If... once... we were sea foam... if once, we sang the song of the ocean... Amalthea is... a seashell. A perfect seashell, whole and lovely, but what lived inside it is dead, not so much as rotting remains to bury and thus be done. You can hold it to your ear and hear the ocean calling, but it's not real, and you can't help but wonder... was it ever?"
The wind slacked off, ceased its crying, and it left behind an empty silence, an aching hollow. They stood together, man and unicorn, pieces of opposite worlds that perhaps never should have met. How can the perfect be perfect once exposed to imperfection? How can the imperfect strive for perfection when they have seen it and know that they cannot have it yet?
"I don't know how much longer I can care for her," Koshayn said slowly, reluctantly, but it was the truth, and he could tell it. "She's... empty. She doesn't want to die... nor does she want to live. She merely is." He glanced away. "This... hurts." A pause. "I have never... hurt. Before."
"No." Schmendrick ran a hand through his hair. "But it makes everything else worth it, somehow." He turned his hat over in his hands, tracing the brim with one finger. "You know what has to be done, don't you? You know... too."
The horn dipped. "I do. And soon. But I confess to not knowing how."
"I'll have to bring... human Amalthea with me. I don't know how I'll get her away... but somehow I'll do it. We will come to this forest clearing as soon as we can. You will be nearby?"
"We will." It was spoken with such firm resolve that Schmendrick was heartened despite himself. It felt better knowing there was a plan, even if it was sketchy at best. It made him feel a little less helpless. It gave him the courage to venture another question, and a touchy one.
"May I see her? Just for a moment."
Koshayn's response was to stride out of the clearing, and Schmendrick had to scramble madly to keep up with him; doubtless he would have lost the stallion in moments had the distance not been so luckily short.
"Here."
And he gazed at her.
Her appearance was little different, no less fine, no less white. She was sprawled on her side, eyes closed, neck stretched vulnerably, lashes fluttering, perhaps in dream. She would have looked only like herself, if the gray tear tracks hadn't marred her cheek.
Yet thank God--there was no blood.
He had come very close to telling Koshayn--what happened to the other Amalthea. If this worked, it would be part of her... whichever her there happened to be. Somehow, though... Whether it was the stallion's imposing presence or his suprisingly tender care of his Amalthea, Schmendrick couldn't bring himself to do it. Not now, anyway. Not now.
Was this what King Haggard had once seen? Two unicorns in a lilac wood, and a love he had to make his own?
Schmendrick straightened, replaced his hat upon his head. "I will come as soon as I can. You have my word."
And he would. He had to.
to be continued....
if you want more, review! pleeeeease?
In between the brown bark of the trees, he could see silver-white that could belong to nothing usual. He ducked under a branch; it swatted at him reproachfully but let him pass. Into the presence of the unicorn.
He was tall, and beautiful, a beauty that transcended nature and adjective. His was a beauty that defied sex--it was gossamer: delicately, utterly masculine. He looked just like her, and looked more unlike her than the very embodiments of yin and yang. Half and whole.
Halves, yes. And that was why they were here.
First, formalities. He doffed his hat. "Koshayn," he said gravely.
The other afforded the man a great honor: he bowed, the tip of his translucent-moon horn scratching the dirt; the scraping noise was like a profanity. He was proud, but things had changed--how they had changed!--and now he was humbled. Once, we were perfect... we were even perfect in the sea... "Schmendrick. Thank you for seeing me."
The magician sighed lightly. "As if I had a choice."
"There is always a choice." The unicorn raised his head and regarded Schmendrick sideways, one wise eye trained in careful scrutiny. "We must control our choice. You know this perhaps better than anyone."
"Yes. Yes, I do."
"Then you know..." Koshayn stopped, hesitating over the magnitude of what he needed to say but knew not how, or where to begin. "Your... your Amalthea," he said finally. "What... what is she like? I mean to say... is she acting... like herself?"
Schmendrick sank onto a rock, elbows driving into his knees, head in his hands. "She is... she is as close to a ghost as one might be while still living." He had a nasty feeling he knew where this was heading. And a nastier feeling that they both knew what had to be done. Still, to ensure this, he had a question. A question that would hurt as much as his own answer before. "And... your...?"
Koshayn looked away; the night breeze rustled the leaves in the trees but steered around him, whistling past without disturbing his body. Even as the quiet moan mourned, his mane and tail hung still, as if he, two, were a ghost. "If... once... we were sea foam... if once, we sang the song of the ocean... Amalthea is... a seashell. A perfect seashell, whole and lovely, but what lived inside it is dead, not so much as rotting remains to bury and thus be done. You can hold it to your ear and hear the ocean calling, but it's not real, and you can't help but wonder... was it ever?"
The wind slacked off, ceased its crying, and it left behind an empty silence, an aching hollow. They stood together, man and unicorn, pieces of opposite worlds that perhaps never should have met. How can the perfect be perfect once exposed to imperfection? How can the imperfect strive for perfection when they have seen it and know that they cannot have it yet?
"I don't know how much longer I can care for her," Koshayn said slowly, reluctantly, but it was the truth, and he could tell it. "She's... empty. She doesn't want to die... nor does she want to live. She merely is." He glanced away. "This... hurts." A pause. "I have never... hurt. Before."
"No." Schmendrick ran a hand through his hair. "But it makes everything else worth it, somehow." He turned his hat over in his hands, tracing the brim with one finger. "You know what has to be done, don't you? You know... too."
The horn dipped. "I do. And soon. But I confess to not knowing how."
"I'll have to bring... human Amalthea with me. I don't know how I'll get her away... but somehow I'll do it. We will come to this forest clearing as soon as we can. You will be nearby?"
"We will." It was spoken with such firm resolve that Schmendrick was heartened despite himself. It felt better knowing there was a plan, even if it was sketchy at best. It made him feel a little less helpless. It gave him the courage to venture another question, and a touchy one.
"May I see her? Just for a moment."
Koshayn's response was to stride out of the clearing, and Schmendrick had to scramble madly to keep up with him; doubtless he would have lost the stallion in moments had the distance not been so luckily short.
"Here."
And he gazed at her.
Her appearance was little different, no less fine, no less white. She was sprawled on her side, eyes closed, neck stretched vulnerably, lashes fluttering, perhaps in dream. She would have looked only like herself, if the gray tear tracks hadn't marred her cheek.
Yet thank God--there was no blood.
He had come very close to telling Koshayn--what happened to the other Amalthea. If this worked, it would be part of her... whichever her there happened to be. Somehow, though... Whether it was the stallion's imposing presence or his suprisingly tender care of his Amalthea, Schmendrick couldn't bring himself to do it. Not now, anyway. Not now.
Was this what King Haggard had once seen? Two unicorns in a lilac wood, and a love he had to make his own?
Schmendrick straightened, replaced his hat upon his head. "I will come as soon as I can. You have my word."
And he would. He had to.
to be continued....
if you want more, review! pleeeeease?