Chapter 2: Welcome to Doornham

EGORAVEN: HEIR OF THE FIRST UNICORN - The Novelization adaptation of the comic series

The night had long bloomed into the light of morning when the unicorn began to slow from his seemingly endless run. The stallion had been galloping for hours since their escape from the castle, but no matter how far he carried his precious cargo, the smell of dragons still surrounded them.

Amadaeo let out a fierce snort as he settled into a canter, trying to rid his senses of the foul beasts. Surely, by now, they would have been left so far behind. As he breathed in, his ears pinned as the unwelcome scent returned. They would find no safety while dragons were nearby. He felt Egoraven stir on his back.

“We’ve crossed the border during the night,” Amadaeo spoke, keeping his pace. “We must keep moving as far away from the valley as possible.” An exhausted groan answered him.

“I can’t…” Egoraven muttered into his neck as she began to slide off. Startled, Amadaeo circled, trying to catch her.

“No! Stay on!” he cried. “We can’t stop here!”

The unicorn girl fell into the grass, weak from trauma and lack of sleep. “…I’m just too tired…”

Amadaeo frantically nudged her. “Egoraven, we don’t have a choice—” A whistling followed a thud in the tree bark next to him. The unicorn reared as the embedded barbed arrow punctuated what he was saying. “Run!” he yelled with a whinny.

Suddenly flooded with energy, Egoraven popped up and scrambled through the underbrush to anywhere away from whatever it was that chased them. Amadaeo leaped in her direction when another whistling sound cut the air.

His front legs snapping together, he shrieked and crashed to the ground, tangled in a sling weighted by stones. Amadaeo struggled, expecting them to snap easily, as no mortal can weave a rope that can hold a unicorn—until he realized he was not dealing with mortal binds.

“AMADAEO!” Egoraven screamed, seeing the rope tightly wrapped around his legs, and made her way back to him.

“Don’t worry about me! Just go!” The stallion yelled at her.

Egoraven refused to hear it. “No! I won’t leave you!” As she reached out, a blur of armor jumped from the brush and landed violently between her and her uncle. With a whip of its tail, the Rakan claimed the unicorn, perching itself astride and planting its blade into the ground perilously near Amadaeo’s head. Not knowing what to do, Egoraven spun, only to come face to face with the lizard’s handler.

The Raikashan casually watched the girl as she clumsily clawed through the grass, frantically trying to find anything to use as a weapon. He grunted, annoyed that the long chase had such a pathetic end. “Returning you alive is the goal,” he snarled through yellow teeth and cobalt lips. “But by how much is up to you.” The resentment at his task couldn’t have been made more evident.

The raptor yelped, losing his balance as the grey unicorn beneath him thrashed. “Don’t let them take you back!” Amadaeo cried, feeling claws dig into his flesh and hearing a chittering growl too close in his ear. “You have to escape!”

The unicorn girl stared back with wide, panicked eyes and heaving from shallow breathing. Amadaeo knew at that moment his promise to Alaric was broken.

The blue-grey dragon walked up and impatiently grabbed the girl’s arm with a rough hand, claws digging through her sleeve. “You’ve given me quite the chase. You’re lucky your prince fancies you.”

Egoraven gnashed her teeth at Rillian’s name. “You’re not supposed to come out this far from the valley,” she spat, finding her courage.

Her sudden defiance did not amuse the Raikashan. “Neither are you, but here we are.” Twisting, he forced her to stand until she stood on the tips of her hooves. The unicorn girl tried to wrench herself from his grasp, but the strength that served her against the prince was no match for the dragon. He towered over her with glittering eyes, obviously wanting to be done with this.

A guttural voice came from behind. “What of him?” The Rakan clutched his spear tighter as he bounced a lethal curved claw against Amadaeo’s throat. Without hesitation, the handler answered.

“Our orders were to bring back the girl. He is no use to us.”

Egoraven felt all bravery drain. “No!” she screamed, struggling against the Raikashan’s steely grip. The raptor yanked the blade from the ground.

“Not today, dragon.”

Feeling the grip on her slack, Egoraven dropped, catching a glimpse of another being jumping into the clearing with them. The reaction of the dragons, however, showed that this intruder was not another Raikashan as she first thought.

The Rakan was the first to fall as a curved blade deftly pierced leathery skin and made quick work of its throat. In a fountain of blood, the head thumped to the ground as the body flailed in the opposite direction, yellow eyes staring ahead in the shock it never recovered from. Amadaeo flinched at the sight, unclear as to what was happening.

The Raikashan fared no better. Distracted by how quickly the raptor was taken and who would dare do such a thing, he went for his bow, but the ambush was quicker than his wits, with the curved blade meeting its lethal mark. The attacker did not need to know any more about dragons other than a sword in their neck made them die the same way as any other creature.

Egoraven positioned herself between her uncle and the intruder, waving a flimsy tree branch. It didn’t matter how it looked as she trembled uncontrollably. All she knew was that she had to protect Amadaeo from this someone who could kill dragons with a single strike and was now alone with them.

Amadaeo looked ahead, his ears perking forward. He could not decide what was more surprising than dragons who walked like Men—except maybe a horse that did the same.

“You have very ugly enemies for one so young.”

Egoraven gripped the stick, trying to control her shaking hands. Crouching towards the strange horse man, she made a feeble attempt at a threat. “Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice cracked.

The horse man walked over to the fallen Raikashan, indifferently taking the dragon’s cloak and wiping the blood from his sword. The blade, clean to his satisfaction, he returned it to its sheath, ignoring the unicorn girl's behavior while still paying enough attention to her. She still had something that could be used as a weapon, effectively or not. However, he didn’t want to find out the hard way. Adjusting his robes, he finally faced them.

“I suppose it is only natural for two weary travelers so far from home to be suspicious,” he started. “My name is Johar Amir El-Sahar, artisan and metalsmith at your service.” Johar folded his hands into each other and gave a deep, respectful bow to the unicorns.

Egoraven blinked, still not sure what to make of this odd mortal before her, a statuesque horse of steel-like grey and a mane that reflected blue in the morning sunlight. Taking a cue from her uncle, who showed no apprehension towards him, Egoraven returned his greeting.

“I am Egoraven, daughter of the unicorn king Alaric and Hannah of Edinrahn. And this is my uncle Amadaeo." She ended her presentation with a curtsey as awkward as her point to the unicorn behind her as if he could be overlooked somehow.

Johar smiled and held out his hands, palms up, as he cautiously walked towards them. “Allow me to help you further,” he said, gesturing to the rope still tied around Amadaeo’s front legs. The unicorn nodded, accepting the offer wordlessly, and the horse man began to untangle the snare to their relief.

“The privilege is mine, princess,” Johar continued as he worked. “An unusual heritage for certain but no less impressive.”

The unicorn girl let out a sigh. “No need to get formal. I’m far from being a princess now.”

Glad to have his legs back, Amadaeo stood. “Raikashans have seized the castle at Edinrahn. We are the only ones to escape, and we’re trying to keep it that way.”

They looked around at the remains of the dragons as flies began to buzz around them. “I am glad to have been able to help with that,” Johar answered with a chuckle that turned equally serious. “Dragons on the move is a dangerous sign. We’d better head out of these woods in case there are more of them.”

“I don’t think we have to worry. It was the scent of these two that plagued us throughout the night. From what I can tell, there are no others following.” Amadaeo scrunched his nose. “And believe me, their scent is not easy to miss.”

Johar nodded. “If there were others, they definitely would have revealed themselves by now.” He started to make his way. “But why stay around to take that chance?”

“I agree,” the unicorn answered.

As they started walking, something in the grass near the Rakan's lifeless head caught Egoraven’s attention. Reaching down, she spied a charm tied to a crude rope. Her curiosity piqued, she went over to the Raikashan's body and used her hoof to poke at what was left of his neck until she found what she was looking for.

“Egoraven, what are you doing, child?” she heard Amadaeo shout.

“I’ll be right there!”  she answered, grasping at the charm. A fading tingling emanated as she studied the unfamiliar carvings in the ivory. Not wanting to hear her uncle yell again, she tucked the charm into her waistband and trotted to where Amadaeo and Johar waited.

The unicorn and the horse man shared small talk, with Amadaeo filling in more details of their story. Egoraven kept close, distracted by the charm against her waist and what little magic there was left in it, feeling as if it were leaking into her skin.

Johar, she repeated in her head as she watched his tail swish calmly as he walked. Not paying attention, she said his name out loud. His ears swiveled back.

“How can I help you, princess?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

Egoraven blushed at the title that now seemed so out of place. “You can call me Egoraven. It’s okay,” she shyly answered.

Amadaeo contemplated the comment. “It might be best not to use her title. We don’t know who may be lurking about who might take an interest in it.”

Glancing at the two unicorns, Johar tried not to chuckle at the idea that her title would be the problem. “How can I help you, Egoraven?”

“Are all the mortals here animal men like you?” she asked, fidgeting with her fingers. “We have many humans living in the castle, and I didn’t think the world outside would look so different.”

Johar laughed. “The world is much larger than you see right now. I am one of many like me and of different kinds, but I am not all. Human men, exactly as you imagine them, far outnumber people like me.” He let out a little snort. “It’s why I’m alone in these woods. There’s so many, even I need to get away from them occasionally.”

As he spoke, vast grassland opened before them. Near the tree line was a small campsite marked by a tent, a worn yet well-kept, elaborately designed rug, and a small circle of stones where a kettle hung over a long put-out flame. “You are welcome to rest and take some food, " Johar said, raising the tent's flap.

Egoraven felt her ears droop at the invitation. The exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm her before returned even stronger. She crawled inside.

“You are welcome as well, Amadaeo. The tent is done in the desert style of my people and meant to accommodate an animal of your size.”

“Excuse me?”

The horse man straightened his back. “I was born and raised in a family of nomads. Sleeping alongside the livestock we tended to was common, both outside and inside.

The unicorn snorted. “I appreciate the hospitality but not the comparison to livestock; I think you should know.”

Johar smiled and gave a bow. “I mean no disrespect.”

“None is taken,” the unicorn answered as he lowered himself and entered.

The two unicorns curled together in the cozy space as Egoraven mindlessly plucked at the mat underneath her, similar to the one outside. Peeking through the opening, she spied the odd horse man kneeling on his rug. He bowed forward, touched his forehead to the ground, and raised himself again. Straining her ears, she heard what sounded like chanting but couldn’t make out any of the words. Completing his prayers, Johar returned to a more relaxed seated position. Pulling out a leather book from a bag, he started writing.

As Amadaeo settled, he sighed loudly, releasing what little strength he had left. Egoraven wrapped her arms around his neck, noticing that the marks from the Rakan’s claws on his coat were long healed. But his fatigue was from much more than the night-long running and their final encounter with dragons.

“Uncle? You don’t look well,” she said, then hesitated. “Is it the Pull?”

Amadaeo knew he could not hide anything from her. “The magic of the valley is calling. But I knew that would happen. That was the risk we had to take.”

Egoraven reached inside her to the sapling of enchantment that laid dormant yet undisturbed. Her exhaustion was indeed of the more physical kind. “Then why don’t I feel anything?”

 “Your magic protects you.” Amadaeo let out a softer sigh.

The unicorn girl felt confused. “My magic? But I don’t have…” her voice trailed in disbelief, imagining the spark that wouldn’t even allow her to shapeshift long enough to play with her brother and felt heartache at the thought of him.

 “Your father has told me so,” he answered as he nuzzled her. “He also said your magic will protect me as well.”

Feeling drowsy, Egoraven hugged him tighter. “Figures that you would be sent to take care of me, only to have me take care of you.” She deepened her cuddle. “I would do anything for you, uncle.”

Amadaeo lowered his head as sleep took him as well. “I know.”

Overhearing their conversation, Johar smiled and returned to his book.

* * *

To call it darkness would be an understatement. Egoraven couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed, only that the void enveloped her, and her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She could feel the semblance of ground but nothing more specific than a hard surface beneath her hands and knees. Egoraven took strange comfort in realizing she was at least not floating.

No light, no stars. Neither inside nor outside. Just the pitch. And her.

Before fear could take its hold, a dim glow underneath began to appear. Egoraven looked down, suddenly fixated, until a second, brighter light caught her peripheral vision. A white shadow separated from the radiance and took a more familiar form. Another unicorn. But not one she had ever seen before.

It was an elegant, shimmering creature, looking as if it were swimming in the darkness rather than walking, its pearlescent mane waving like water around a sparkling, impossibly long, ivory horn. Egoraven stared, mesmerized by its ethereal beauty that none of the unicorns of Edinrahn could ever come close to having.

Another shadow caught her attention, but this one remained part of the dark, with only a faint glimmer marking the outline of another horn. A second unicorn, but this one was the opposite of the first, embracing the black where the other shone through. Egoraven gasped as she realized she recognized this one.

Alaric.

Egoraven tried to call out his name, but no sound came forth. Reaching out, she silently called out again.

Her father turned in her direction, but where she would have expected the brilliant blue of his eyes, Egoraven only met the blankness of white. She sat frozen, dread creeping up her spine the longer his sightless gaze bore through her. Pushing forward, she was determined to touch him.

No matter how close Egoraven thought she was getting, her fingers never settled on the black shadow. The more she tried, the more distorted he became. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, but the rippling in the air continued. It wasn’t her eyesight; it was him.

The shadow stretched and pulled until Alaric shifted from black to a blanched grey, his horn splitting into two, his body lengthening.

Holding her breath, what she wanted to touch, she now couldn’t get away from fast enough, scrambling in the darkness as the twisting shape beamed gleaming yellow eyes and bared teeth sharp like daggers at her.

The wyrm coiled its massive body in an endless procession of scales and roared.

* * *

Egoraven shot up awake with a choking wheeze. Sweat beaded her brow as her eyes darted, disoriented, but the familiarity of the tent brought calm, especially with Amadaeo sleeping soundly next to her. She gently stroked his coat, surprised he was not disturbed by her sudden movements. Regaining her senses from the strange dream, the unicorn girl leaned back and tried to return to a more restful sleep.

Distracted by a pinching at her waist, Egoraven remembered the charm she had tucked there. Cradling it in her hands, she studied the unrecognizable designs carved in the ivory.

“What is that,” muttered a groggy voice next to her.

Egoraven turned her hands to show the charm to her waking uncle. “I took it from the Raikashan’s body,” she answered. “I felt a strong magic center from it, but the spell is gone now. The Rakan had one as well.”

Amadaeo sniffed, and his ears twitched. “Enchanted talismans. So that is how they followed us beyond the border.” He almost sounded impressed.

“I’m surprised the spell wore off so quickly,” Egoraven added, remembering the tingling feeling from when she first picked it up. “Maybe they didn’t think they had to chase us far.”

The unicorn snorted. “Or maybe they are not the sorcerers they think themselves as.”

A rustling at the front of the tent was followed by the horse man entering. “I hope you found my modest accommodations to your liking.” With a wide smile, he placed a small tray before the unicorns.

The tip of Egoraven’s tail wagged as she felt the kettle's warmth and spied several biscuits glistening with honey. “My uncle is still weak, but we will be fine,” she answered.

Johar began to pour the tea, two cups, and one bowl for the elder unicorn. He presented one to Egoraven. “Drink up, my friends.” He then presented the bowl to Amadaeo, who sniffed curiously at the fragrant hot liquid. “There is nothing fresh hot tea can’t cure.”

The unicorns savored the tea, appreciating the warmth in their bellies. Johar sipped at his own, amused at how Egoraven’s gaze hungrily fell on the cookies.

“Please, help yourself,” he chuckled. The unicorn girl didn’t hesitate to take him up on his invitation. Quickly stuffing one in her mouth, she took a second and handed it to Amadaeo, who relished the sweet confection as much as his niece did.

The odd trio sat quietly together, enjoying their breakfast.

“Our only regret is that we have nothing to repay your generosity,” Egoraven said, embarrassed at having gone from princess to pauper in the blink of a moment.

Johar raised his hand. “Nonsense. So, what are your plans now?”

“Returning to Edinrahn is out of the question,” Amadaeo replied as he licked the bowl clean.

Johar cradled his cup, warming his hands. “Being the heir to Edinrahn must be of great value to the Dragon Lords.”

The unicorn girl shrugged. “I don’t know how. But if we can’t return to Edinrahn, where do we go?” She glanced at Amadaeo and then at Johar. “We’ve never been outside of the valley before. We don’t even know where we are.” Amadaeo huffed into the empty bowl.

“You are in the kingdom of Ternam, ruled by King Jason the Second,” Johar answered. The unicorns awkwardly stared back, the string of words meaning nothing to them. The horse man thought for a bit, then nodded. “Since you are so willing to repay my hospitality, come to Doornham with me. I can provide room and board in exchange for a couple of strong backs.”

Amadaeo frowned, and his ears pinned. “As in carrying things?”

Egoraven, however, smiled with growing excitement. “I don’t know how useful I can be, but I welcome the opportunity.”

Amadaeo grumbled, the sound deep in his throat. “I made a promise to your father to take care of you. If it means laying down my dignity to keep that promise, then so be it.” He snorted loudly and gave an exaggerated nod to punctuate his decree.

Egoraven and Johar sipped the last of their tea at the same time. “Ah, so full of embellishment,” Johar teased.

Egoraven smiled into her cup. “It’s a unicorn thing. You get used to it.”

Amadaeo couldn’t understand what was so funny.

“It is settled then,” Johar answered. “I meant to camp here for several more days but think it is a good time to return. It will still take us another day or so to reach the city, so the earlier start we get, the better. I suggest we make our way after a proper stew lunch.”

As if feeling now was the time to start repaying her debt, Egoraven carefully collected the cups and bowl and placed them in a tidy pile, but not before catching the cookie crumbs in the tray and licking her fingers. Her large mule-like ears flicked as the last taste of sugar met her tongue. Johar grinned at the display.

After the promised lunch of hearty stew, the campsite was packed, and the horse man, unicorn girl, and unicorn started their journey. Egoraven was fascinated by how the landscape changed as humans began to dot the land. Wild wood faded into wild meadow, then into tended fields where sheep and cattle grazed. Short stone walls started to appear, marking territory, and worn roads fanned beneath their feet.

The few travelers who passed them on the road paid Johar no mind, but the unicorns met stares that took from every emotion. Luckily, that was as far as anyone went, with most people deciding to make wide detours rather than chance how real the myths about the creatures were. Amadaeo took the responses in stride and ignored the humans. Egoraven walked beside Johar, flustered by the encounters.

“Are all humans going to be like this?” she asked sheepishly.

Johar placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I would be lying if I said it couldn’t get worse. But there are more people who mind their own business than those who act maliciously because of superstition.”

Egoraven cringed at the answer. “I’m wondering if I should have taken my chances with the dragons.”

Johar gave her a pat. “We’re almost there.” Adjusting his pack, he pointed ahead to a great wall that jutted out from the landscape. “Once we reach The Coal Horse, you and your uncle can settle in. You’ll be feeling like you’re home in no time.”

“I highly doubt that,” Amadaeo answered from behind.

“The Coal Horse?” Egoraven pondered the name.

“It is our foundry,” Johar explained. “We are blacksmiths. It’s where we live and work. It is our home.”

Egoraven became nervous again. “There are others? Do you live with your family?”

Johar laughed. “Oh no. I left the desert a long time ago. I live with two other friends. One of them is human, if you’re worried about that. But the entire city is mostly human, so what is one more?”

Egoraven huffed as her ears drooped.

They continued their trek, following the wall until Johar slowed his pace and frowned. “Seems your people’s reputation precedes you, princess.”

Up ahead was the tower entrance to the city with guards standing at attention in front of the closed, iron gate. As people grouped by the entrance, the guards made their way to check everyone coming in, then opened the gates enough to let them in before closing them again.

“I can’t remember the last time they’ve had the gates shut,” Johar explained. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re acting on the word of unicorns on the road. After all, it’s usually not a good sign when magical creatures roam too close to people.”

“What are we going to do now?” Amadaeo asked.

Johar thought for a bit. “We’re going to go through,” he answered, adjusting his pack again.

“But… but what about us?” Egoraven became frightened at getting this far, only to be abandoned.

“Remain calm, and let me speak to them first. Don’t act suspiciously, and we should be fine.” He started walking.

Egoraven’s ears pinned. “What does he mean by not acting suspiciously? What is suspicious behavior to humans?” Her tail anxiously swished.

Amadaeo snorted at her. “Acting like that.”

Egoraven’s face turned red.

 The unicorn nuzzled her. “Do what Johar says, and hopefully, he’s right.” She took a gulp and followed.

“HALT! TAKE NOT ANOTHER STEP!”

Johar let out a frustrated sigh at the guards as they readied and aimed their pikes at the unicorns behind him. “Captain, I was just—”

Another guard rushed at the black and grey unicorn, not actually attempting to do harm but instead trying to frighten him away. Amadaeo reared, annoyed at having another blade waved at his muzzle.

“Back off, vampires!” the guard bellowed. “There will be no slaves gotten here for your masters!”

“Vampires?” Amadaeo screeched. “How dare you compare us to those filthy creatures!”

Johar groaned at the situation getting out of hand so quickly, especially as he saw Egoraven with her tail tucked and holding up trembling hands at the guard by her side. He cleared his throat. Diplomacy had to be traded for clarity. “I am under no enchantment, Captain,” Johar announced with an odd tone of authority. “Send your men away.”

The captain reacted to the command but did not lower his weapon. “But Johar, the legends—”

“I am fully aware of them,” Johar answered sternly.

“Legends?” Egoraven kept her eyes on the blade in front of her.

Amadaeo angrily swished his tail. “They think we’ve come to enchant humans for the Eihdans.”

Egoraven knew some of the unicorns who helped the elves in that way, but she never thought anyone would think all of them did that. “Us? Enchant humans?” The idea sounded absurd.

“Stay silent, kidnapper!” the captain shouted, startling her. Egoraven felt her chest tighten.

“Captain!” boomed Johar, losing all patience. There was a tense, silent moment between the captain, his guards, and the horse man. “These are my guests,” Johar continued in a softer tone. “Do you think I would imperil the city by bringing dangerous creatures within its walls?”

The captain chewed his tongue, shifting his gaze between the annoyed unicorn and then to the odd unicorn girl who wrung her furred hands and was on the edge of tears from the stress of the encounter. He had to admit, they did not look anything like what the stories he grew up with warned him about. “At ease, men,” he ordered. “Let them pass.”

The guards hesitated but did as they were told, and the trio collectively sighed of relief.

“If I have trust in anyone, it’s Johar.” The captain faced him, planting his pike on the ground. “You can’t blame me for being too cautious. People were coming with warnings of unicorns near the city, and you know how we have to be.”

Johar nodded. “Of course.”

As the gate opened, the guards returned to their posts, and the captain watched the two unicorns pass into the tower. “But be warned. At the first sign of trouble—” he shook his pike at them.

“Captain, you and your men do an excellent job of keeping Doornham safe.” Johar raised his hands to his muzzle as he bowed. “Every citizen, including myself, thank you.”

“Welcome home, Johar,” answered the captain.

“May the creator bless you, Captain.”

“And Helo’s blessing on you, as well.”

As they entered the dark tunnel, the guards couldn’t help but look back, hoping they did the right thing.

Egoraven glanced back at them, thinking the same. “I hope we didn’t make a mistake doing this,” she whispered to Amadaeo as sunlight shone ahead.

“Just keep alert,” Amadaeo answered. 

The short tunnel opened into a cramped street with people seeming to appear out of nowhere going about their day. On every building wall hung colorful banners and bunting, all featuring sun-like symbols at their centers. Dotting the walls along with the banners were golden discs and plaques, all bearing the same sun image. And as the actual sun hit its afternoon peak, they glittered as if shining with their own light.

Egoraven was breathless. “This is amazing!” she exclaimed with delight, wholly entranced. “The Eihdans have never done anything like this.” Amadaeo, on the other hand, was already overwhelmed by the constant noise, movement, and especially the smell. He remained quiet, already seeing people stopping to stare at them with less-than-friendly looks.

The unicorn girl remained oblivious, barely able to walk and pay attention to where she was going. Johar stayed close, allowing her to take it all in. “Doornham always has a flair for celebration and barely needs a reason to have one.”

“What is everyone celebrating?” She continued looking around.

“We had a particularly rough winter, so this spring season is especially welcome. And what better way to look forward to it than with festivals and tournaments?” Johar couldn’t help but find her enthusiasm infectious.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful to go to a festival, uncle?” Egoraven turned to see Amadaeo with a stern look on his muzzle, walking carefully to avoid the filthy puddles that dotted the ground. She looked down, wondering if, in her distracted state, she had been trailing mud the entire time, but instead found her hooves and the long brown fur of her legs still clean.

“I don’t know how you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been avoiding all this muck since we entered,” Amadaeo replied. “Even your tail seems to know to pick up at the right moment.”

Egoraven sighed at the thought of her magic not allowing her to shapeshift but having no problem keeping her from getting dirty. Some enchanted unicorn she was turning out to be.

As she continued following Johar, she began to feel heavy and shivered. Looking around, faces quickly turned away from her, no one wanting to be caught making eye contact with the strange girl. Person after person glared, not knowing what to make of unicorns in their city, conversations turning into whispers as they passed. Egoraven’s ears drooped the more it happened, her excitement in this new city fading quickly.

Sensing a change in her mood, Johar touched her shoulder and smiled warmly. “Keep to yourself and mind your manners, and no one will bother you.”

“That doesn’t comfort me at all,” Egoraven answered, now keeping her eyes down and trying not to look at anyone. “Where is this Coal Horse?” she asked softly, desperate for a place to hide yet wondering if they were going to meet more of the same.

“We’re almost there,” Johar answered. It’s just right around this corner.”

As he spoke, The Coal Horse came into view. Egoraven looked up at the hanging wood sign swinging slightly in the breeze, decorated with a horse head and the place's name.

Johar approached the closed door and turned to them, but mainly to Amadaeo. “Wait here. The shop doesn’t have enough room. Egoraven, you may enter if you want.”

Amadaeo took a spot in front of the window by a trough filled with water as Egoraven looked at him with concern.

“I shouldn’t leave Amadaeo alone,” she replied, more worried about what she was about to encounter inside.

Amadaeo snorted. “I can take care of myself, child.” He sniffed the water. Taking a sip, he smacked his lips, finding the taste bitter. “What I would give for a cool stream right now.”

Johar laughed. “Let’s get you both settled here first before I give you the grand tour.” His smile was almost mischievous.

The door opened with the sound of bells twinkling into a small shop with shelves lining the walls and a desk along the back facing the entrance. Egoraven positioned herself directly behind Johar as he entered, hiding from whoever might be there. She didn’t know if she could handle meeting anyone, much less the two people Johar said he lived with.

“Johar! I was wondering when you’d be back!” she heard a voice call from the desk.

Johar walked up to where a fox was in the middle of scribbling in a large book. He sat perched on a tall stool, the only way he could have reached the top of the desk. Egoraven wanted to stare, never having seen a talking fox before, but became utterly distracted by the curios that lined one of the side shelves. As Johar kept the fox that acted like a little man busy, the unicorn girl shuffled to the side.

“Good to see you again, Morgan,” Johar replied as he placed his pack on the desk.

The fox returned his quill to the inkwell. He gently blew the page he was writing on to dry the ink. “Did you get any inspiration in the mountains?” he asked. Johar unpacked a black, leather-bound book and handed it to him.

“I was unable to make it to the mountains this time, but the glory of Helo always inspires me.”

Morgan carefully flipped through the yellowed pages, excitedly looking over the sketches of landscapes and individual plants that melded into more abstract images. “A lot of great designs…”

As they spoke, Egoraven studied the shelves. They were a mix of items, from highly decorated bowls and cups that reminded her of Johar’s tea set to silver charms and pewter figurines, even small illuminations on panels, shimmering with brightly colored ink and gold. One piece particularly caught her attention—a sculpted wooden figure of a young maiden holding a lamb. She smiled at seeing it, wondering who could have carved such an exquisite thing with its fine details and how out of place it looked in the shop. So engrossed, she didn’t realize she was being spoken to.

“Those are some high-quality crafted items, there,” Morgan announced. “We have crafts from artisans hailing from throughout the city. You can’t find any finer in Doornham.” He quickly turned to Johar when he realized he wasn’t getting a response from what he thought was a goat woman intently staring at the shelves. “Is she with you?” he whispered, brushing the front of his tunic.

Johar cleared his throat. “Morgan, this is Egoraven.”

Hearing her name, Egoraven snapped out of her reverie and stood straight, awkwardly presenting herself. “My pleasure—!” she squeaked nervously, her throat suddenly dry.

The fox’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. She wasn’t a goat. She was a unicorn.

“Johar! Have you gone insane?!” he screeched. Johar stood silently with a slight smirk on his muzzle.

Egoraven felt her heart drop as the fox bared his teeth and noticed Amadaeo through the window. This was not going well.

“They’re unicorns!” Morgan continued yelling, standing on the stool and slamming his hands on the desk.

“I haven’t noticed,” Johar sarcastically answered.

Egoraven hesitantly stepped forward. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she offered apologetically.

The fox continued to rage. “You better believe I’m upset when creatures from the far wood come to turn us into slaves!”

“I’m not turning anyone into a slave!” Egoraven whined back, tears stinging the edges of her eyes.

Johar finally lost patience. “Enough, Morgan!” he snapped loud enough to startle the fox back into some semblance of composure. Even Egoraven jumped. At least the tears dried up as quickly as they came because of it. “You, of all people, should know better,” Johar scolded.

Morgan scrunched his muzzle, taking the chiding. He growled and flattened his ears, admitting defeat. He looked at Egoraven through the corner of his eye. “Well, I guess they’d be okay if you brought them here,” he muttered.

“Of course,” Johar nodded, satisfied. “Now, is Daniel about? I’m surprised your yelling hasn’t brought him here already.”

“He’s at the forge. I’ll get him for you.”

“You do that,” Johar answered.

Morgan jumped down from the stool, suspiciously glaring at the unicorn girl as he did so. Egoraven felt her face flush.

The fox spun on his hind paws. “I got my eye on you!” he snarled at her. Unable to take any more, Egoraven hid her face in her hands, the tears welling back up.

“MORGAN!” Johar shouted.

The fox angrily swished his tail as he exited the shop through the back. Johar heard a soft sniffling.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Egoraven whispered through her hands. She felt strong arms envelop her.

“You can do this, princess,” the horse man whispered back. “It’s all right to feel overwhelmed, but I promise you are safe here.”

Egoraven looked up at him with tear-reddened eyes. “How safe can I be if your friends don’t trust me just for being a unicorn? What if your other friend doesn’t like me, either? Is he going to be yelling at me all the time, too?”

Johar hugged her again and then braced her shoulders. “Morgan is of the very superstitious sort. He only lashed out because he doesn’t know you or your uncle. But I’m positive with time, he will feel differently. I’ve only known you for a few days, and I know the good you both have in your hearts.”

Egoraven wiped her eyes. “But what of the other—?”

“Just relax. It will be all right.” He brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ears, and adjusted her shirt collar as a father would.  He then guided her to the shelf. “I noticed you taking a fancy to something here. Show me.”

Egoraven smiled at him. “Oh, yes! This piece.” She pointed to the wooden maiden with the lamb. “It’s so beautiful.”

“Why, thank you.” Johar proudly straightened his back. “I carved that.”

Egoraven’s eyes widened. “You did? I wouldn’t have expected…” she paused, looking at his large hands. “It’s so delicate.”

Johar laughed, wiggling his fingers. “I can make a lot of things with these.” He pointed at other pieces on the shelf—his other works. “I can show you more later.”

“I would like that.” The unicorn girl beamed, feeling much better.

“Hey, Johar!”

Egoraven shrank at the sound of the new voice, folding her arms across herself.

A human entered the shop, trying to look a bit more presentable for a blacksmith by running fingers through shaggy black hair that grew long in the back. He tossed his thick leather gloves on the desk and met Johar’s hand with a loud clap. They hugged in greeting, patting each other on the back. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week.” Noticing someone else, he peeked around him.

Egoraven braced herself for another barrage of abuse. Instead, she watched the young man, slightly taller than her, adjust his glasses.

“Oh, hi there,” he replied softly. He turned to Johar. “I see you brought back more than just a full sketchbook.”

“Daniel, I want you to meet Egoraven. Her uncle Amadaeo is waiting outside.”

Daniel looked out the window at the other unicorn, his eyebrows raising less in surprise and more in curiosity. “So that’s what Morgan was going on about. He was raving like a little loon.” He stepped forward, extending his hand only for Egoraven to hesitate and glance away. “No reason to be skittish,” Daniel replied, gently taking hers and completing the shake. He couldn’t help but study the three golden fingers, crowned by the soft brown fur of her wrist, coming together like a cloven hoof but feeling just as supple as any woman’s hand.

An intense blush crossed her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” Egoraven answered. “We just haven’t exactly gotten a warm reception here.”

 “You mean Morgan,” Daniel chuckled. “I’m really sorry for that. He can be a dick more times than he should be. But no stranger ever gets a warm reception in Doornham. Don’t worry, though. Remain your charming self, and you’ll do fine.”

Their eyes met, and Egoraven felt her mouth stretch into a wide grin as her heart felt like it would jump into her throat. Where she had hesitated to take this blacksmith’s hand before, she now hesitated to let go.

* * *

“What is taking them so long? I am not a tethered horse!”

The grey and black unicorn stood impatiently, staring through the distorted glass into the shop. People gathering at nearby points, peeking behind corners to take turns to see him, only added to his aggravation. Amadaeo ignored the gossiping mortals as best as he could, taking advantage of their superstition to chase bolder ones away with a glare and a stomp as he waved his horn at them. No one wanted to risk making eye contact and scattering when he displayed the slightest aggression, no matter how apparently false it was.

All but one.

A disheveled, barefoot girl in rumpled clothing, nervously wringing her hands, stared at the unicorn, keeping her ground when all others had grown bored and left. Amadaeo tried ignoring her as well but knew he had to be more direct when she didn’t depart with the others.

“May I help you,” he sternly asked. The girl choked on a gasp at him speaking to her, neither answering nor leaving.

Amadaeo stepped forward, exaggerating a stomp. “If you have nothing to say, then I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stare.”

The girl only glanced away, kneading her hands more, but still didn’t move. The stallion huffed at her. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked.

“Yes… yes… I very am so!” exclaimed the girl, looking as if she were about to burst into tears.

“Then why are you here?” Amadaeo continued. “You seem to have much to say, but test my patience by not doing so.”

“Please! I beg you! I only came when I heard there was a real unicorn in the city.” The words tumbled out of her mouth.

“A real unicorn? As opposed to a fake one?” he scoffed.

“The girl nodded. “Yes, sir. Many a traveling carnival claim they have a unicorn when it’s just a goat with a broken horn.”

Amadaeo grimaced at the thought. “What a horrible thing to do,” he replied. “I would like to think I could not be confused for a mere goat!”

“No, sir,” the girl continued. “That’s why I just had to see for myself. And once I saw you, I knew that you were indeed real and—” She stopped and wrung her hands again. Her hesitation was apparent as she gathered the courage to complete her thoughts. “I—I will gladly relinquish my maidenhood to the elves for one favor from you.”

If a unicorn could blush, Amadaeo proved it could happen, as the white of his face turned a bright rose at the request. His blue-grey eyes widened as she could have been no more than thirteen turns. “By Arias’ graces, girl!” he cried. “I am certainly not the sort to require such a bargain! The elves can go rot for all I care!” He would have preferred to have been confused for a goat.

The girl covered her mouth in both confusion and despair. “Then how will I—” She started trembling.

Amadaeo took pity, letting out a soft sigh, and gently nuzzled her to focus her attention. She held her breath as he did so. “Tell me what you need, and I will try to help you,” he replied kindly.

Tears streamed down her face, but of the joy she felt at the unicorn agreeing to help. Placing a shaking hand on his shoulder, she led the way.

They walked through a maze of winding, narrow streets and tight, dark alleys. Amadaeo realized she was deliberately avoiding anywhere crowds would be, lest anyone think he was doing what they feared unicorns would do. He found it useful to see how it was possible to avoid people in this dank, oppressive place but hoped their stay would be short-lived enough not to have to utilize it.

The girl’s pace picked up as they entered one last alleyway. Separating from him, she ran to a flight of stairs, waving her arm for the unicorn to catch up, but Amadaeo did not rush. This had to be where she lived.

Following behind as she burst through a door, Amadaeo cautiously peeked in. The flat was dark save for several dim lanterns but lit enough for him to see how they lived, surrounded by everything they owned, which wasn’t much, in no semblance of order, but still tidy for the space. The unicorn stepped inside.

“By Helo’s name, you stupid girl! You made a pact with a demon!”

Amadaeo jumped at a broom smashing against his muzzle, its rough bristles barely missing his eye. He braced himself, bumping into a shelf, not hard enough to make anything fall but shaking at the impact just the same. He caught the blur of the girl jumping in front of him, raising her hands to stop the attack.

“He said he had nothing to do with the elves!” she screamed at her father, who raised the broom, readying another swat.

“And you believe him?” he raged, tightening his grip on the handle.

“He came to help!” the girl continued crying. “Father! Don’t anger him and make him leave! He’s our only hope!”

The man rushed forward with another charge of the broom. “Out, demon! I will not have you steal my daughter to save my wife!”

The unicorn was fed up. “Calm yourself!” Amadaeo bellowed back at the mortal. “If it were my will, I would have just taken her!” He tossed his mane, his horn shimmering. “But instead, I am here in your cramped house getting assaulted by a broom!”

The standoff ended with the man and the unicorn glaring at each other. In the tense moment, the girl went to a blanket covering another doorway. “Please, come this way,” she pleaded, pulling it aside. Huffing, the unicorn followed. The father continued his stare, not letting go of his makeshift weapon.

Amadaeo glimpsed into the even smaller room, unsure he could fit inside, much less enter. His ears pinned as he caught a scent immortals did not often encounter but recognized immediately when they did, filling them with dread.

A single bed took up most of the space, and in it lay a woman, dark hair matted by fever-induced sweat, yet covered in blankets and even a sheepskin that did nothing to curb her noticeable shivering. What bare skin was exposed was covered in sores.

“This woman is dying,” Amadaeo replied softly, now understanding the girl’s insistence. She looked up with sorrowful eyes.

 “I was hoping you could change that,” she whispered back. “We’ve tried everything to help.” She paused, frowning. “Everything we could afford, that is.” Shame rode out on her deep sigh. “We don’t have anything for a proper healer, and I thought maybe the legends about unicorns—”

“These legends of us say many things.” Amadaeo looked over the woman who slept fitfully but was too weak to move, and his heart filled with sadness. This was not a scent he wanted to encounter again.

The girl wrung her hands. “Is this another part of the legend that is wrong as well?”

The unicorn stepped towards the bed as best as he could, the mother totally unaware of anyone’s presence, much less his. Nuzzling her, the golden horn above his brow shimmered, glowing white in the dimly lit room, flashing brightest as he kissed her forehead. With a final spark, Amadaeo pulled away.

“Mother?” the girl quietly called, watching as the sores faded and the shivering stopped. Swallowing hard through a parched throat, the woman gave a soft moan. As she awoke, she saw the unicorn, causing tears to stream freely as she began to weep. He nuzzled her again, breathing in deeply. The scent was gone.

“No. You are not wrong,” Amadaeo answered. He met the woman’s eyes again. Instead of turning away, she returned his gaze, unable to speak but emanating gratitude all the same.

“Gina?” she spoke in a raspy voice. With a squeal, the girl ran, hugging her fiercely. Her mother, still weak from sickness, returned the embrace as best as she could.

 “You will be fragile for a while and feel some pain. But let the magic do its will, and you will be whole again.” Amadaeo carefully backed out of the room.

“How can I ever repay you,” Gina asked, hoping the unicorn was truthful about the elves.

Exhausted from the healing and distressed by the stench of death that clung to his memory, Amadaeo sighed. “I am unfamiliar with your city. Just take me back to where we met.” The unicorn turned to meet the father’s stare again, still mistrustful but at least not as angry. Although the broom still hovered in a position not intended for it.

“If my daughter doesn’t return, I shall have the city hunt you down like the demon you are,” he sputtered. Gina blushed, embarrassed, but said nothing as she placed a hand on the unicorn’s shoulder.

“A simple ‘thank you’ would have sufficed,” Amadaeo answered tersely through clenched teeth as he and the girl made their way back outside.

* * *

Egoraven stood at a table in the center of the forge, watching Daniel and Johar package the many completed swords for delivery. After a final inspection and making sure the blades fit perfectly in their scabbards, some were wrapped in simple cloth, some in leather, while the fancier ones were placed in ornate wooden boxes. She leaned on her elbows and wagged the tip of her tail, fascinated by the two men working. From the corner of her eye, she spied the fox grabbing a couple of items from a shelf. Still sulking, he scurried back into the shop, noticeably not looking at her. Her ears drooped.

“Don’t be too worried about him.” Daniel smiled at her as he wrapped another blade. “I would like to say he’s not always like that, but he is. You’ll get used to it, and he’ll get over whatever burr he has stuck in his—” he stopped himself and then puckered his lips, “tail,” he ended. Egoraven giggled and blushed.

The items sufficiently marked and ready for final packing, the blacksmith handed Johar a list, explaining each piece of inventory. “Make sure you deliver to Lord Madison first. His blades are for a ceremony, and he’s traveling tomorrow for it.”

“Understood,” the horse man answered.

Daniel pointed to another item. “This one is for Sir Blakewood. Make sure he pays first before you give it to him. I’m not in the mood to chase him down like the last time.”

“Definitely understood,” Johar nodded.

Adjusting his glasses, Daniel scanned down the rest of the list. He mumbled to himself at each name, then shook his head. “Lady Evelyn asked if she could pay the last half when her husband gets back. I told her it was fine, but Lord Chauncy really needs to stop being a cheapskate with her stipends.”

Johar’s ears shot forward. “You didn’t actually tell her that, did you?”

Daniel waved his hand and chuckled. “Of course not. But it is true.” He looked over the list one last time. “Everyone else is in good standing.”

Egoraven stepped aside as they organized the deliveries by distance and separated out corresponding duffels. Placing his hands on his hips, Daniel surveyed the packs, tucking a thumb into his leather apron. “It’s nice that you have help now, but it’s still going to be a couple of trips back and forth.”

Johar pointed at each full duffel as he counted. “It’s not that bad if we make the closer deliveries first. Two… most likely three…”

“One,” Egoraven blurted. The two men looked at her. “I can carry them.”

They both tilted their heads.

“I told you I wanted to repay your generosity. And I can carry them for you.” To prove her point, the unicorn girl grabbed the nearest duffel, which would have been quite the exertion for a normal, human woman her size. Johar and Daniel panicked.

“No! No! No! Don’t do that!” They both shouted as they scrambled to her. Egoraven huffed.

“You just got here! I’m not going to have you hurting yourself in my forge!” Daniel snapped in worry.

“I’m not going to hurt myself,” she replied, staring back at him. “Put the rest of the packs on top. I’ll show you.”

Taken aback by her confidence, the human looked at the horse man, who could only shrug back.

“Uh…”

“Trust me.”

Against his better judgment, Johar took a lighter duffle from the table and gingerly placed it in Egoraven’s arms with the pack she still held. She didn’t flinch. With Daniel’s help, he followed with another one. She stood as if nothing was in her arms, showing no strain as the men were now overwhelmed with curiosity over how much weight she could carry. Johar placed the last pack on top, and still, the unicorn didn’t struggle or sweat. Although it was very apparent she couldn’t see where she was going.

“Is that it?” she asked with a muffled voice.

Johar and Daniel looked on in awe as she cradled at least two hundred pounds of metal, leather, and wood in her arms without an ounce of effort.

“Are we ready to go?” Egoraven took a step.

“NO!” they screamed as they rushed forward again.

Johar and Daniel grabbed the duffels and quickly placed them back on the table.

Egoraven was disappointed but couldn’t help the proud smile on her face.

“Well, that was interesting,” Daniel grimaced. “So, in theory, we can do one trip—”

“But we will not,” Johar interjected, not humored by what he had just witnessed nor Daniel’s attempt at a joke about it. “I doubt your uncle will approve of us taking advantage of you in that way.”

Egoraven let out a sigh. “I just want to help.”

Daniel leaned on the table, not wanting to admit his knees were a bit weak from the display. “I’m sure we can find other ways for you to help that don’t require you to scare us like that.” He then snickered. “That was impressive, though. Just how much can you lift—?”

“Don’t encourage her!” Johar snapped, just as angry at himself for allowing the stunt to go on as long as it did. Daniel raised his hands and lowered his head, yielding to the horse.

Johar turned to the unicorn girl. “You are not a pack animal, and we will not treat you as one. With your uncle’s help, we can do two trips.” He raised his fingers. “Two.” There would be no debating.

Egoraven nodded but continued grinning.

Starting with four duffels, Johar and Egoraven made their way to the front, passing a still cranky Morgan at his desk. She stepped out first, greeted with the sight of Amadaeo drinking deeply from the same water trough he had complained earlier wasn’t good enough. As he raised his head, Egoraven looked at him askance, noticing how he looked worse for wear than when she last left him. “Uncle, what happened? You look like you ran to the valley and back again.”

The unicorn gave himself a vigorous shake, trying to regain his composure. “Mind your manners,” he scolded, then became distracted as Johar walked towards him with a pack and a harness. “And what are you going to do with that?”

Johar settled the duffle. “Would you prefer just to stand around doing nothing?” Without waiting for an answer, he began working the harness on the unicorn.

Amadaeo ground his teeth as he stood and took the indignity. “I can’t believe I got talked into this.” He felt the duffels being strapped in as his niece watched, amused. After finishing, Johar gave his shoulder a robust pat, adding to the affront.

“I’m sure unicorns are the type to bore easily,” Johar commented. “If it makes you feel any better, I am grateful for your help. I would have had to make several trips on my own.”

Amadaeo wiggled to adjust the harness to a more comfortable seating. “No, it doesn’t make me feel better,” he snorted.

* * *

Living in a world where magic was familiar, healers cured the sick with a touch, letters could be sent via enchanted means, and if you had the coin, access to portals to other lands, the people of Doornham thought they saw it all. Yet through the streets walked the odd trio of a horse man, an even odder unicorn girl, and a unicorn carrying packs like a common horse. And they all couldn’t help but gawk and gossip as they passed. However, Johar was the least strange of them, as many greeted him as any man, even speaking in wonder at how he lucked out in gaining such a magnificent steed. Amadaeo’s ability to not completely lose his temper at such talk was sorely being tested.

“I did promise you a grand tour,” Johar laughed as they trekked through the city.

Amadaeo grunted, still aggravated at the position he was put into for the good of his niece, even though the harness and packs he carried were genuinely not a bother, not that he would ever admit to it. “Your attempt at humor repulses me,” he answered. The horse man smirked.

Egoraven trotted up, the large, heavy duffle she carried feeling as light as a coin purse to her. “Don’t tell me you don’t find this at all interesting,” she chirped as she adjusted the pack. “What about the last house? They were really nice to us. They even gave us sweets!”

“While the one before that threatened to loose their dogs on us,” Amadaeo replied.

Johar chuckled. “Everyone will get used to you soon enough. The explanation I have been giving seems to alleviate their concerns.”

The grey unicorn spied more people staring and whispering. “Soon enough can’t come soon enough,” he muttered to himself.

“What are you telling them, anyway?” Egoraven asked.

“That you are a princess running away from an arranged marriage.”

“Oh,” she blushed. “That’s not actually true…”

Amadaeo’s head snapped up. “You’re telling everyone she’s a princess? That could be dangerous! What if someone acts on that information?”

Johar kept his pace. “It’s not the truth people need right now, just a good story.” He looked over his shoulder. “Better to entertain them with one about a unicorn princess on the run from a roguish prince, then tell them the truth that dragons may be in our lands because of her.” He suddenly became serious. “The last thing you need is a panicked populace, especially over dragons. That would be the fastest way to have an entire kingdom turn on you.”

Amadaeo conceded the point. “The dragons are trapped by the magic of the valley. Even their attempt to chase us outside was short-lived. They will not come this far.”

“I hope you are right,” Johar answered.

Each stop was the same. Johar would present his deliveries in exchange for the coin that was owed, as the unicorns stood just far enough to pique suspicious curiosity. With his not quite fanciful yet exaggerated tale, Johar comforted them enough that most just did their business, then left the trio to their own devices. The longer they worked, the less the ogling happened, with the unicorns becoming a speck on everyone’s minds. There were grander things going on.

The street opened to a wide plaza, where a cheering crowd waved flags and threw flower petals from the open windows overlooking the street. The colorful banners that seemed to decorate every surface fluttered dramatically in the wind.

Amadaeo came to a complete halt. “I’m not walking through that. I’ll be pushed from all sides!” Egoraven had a different reaction.

“What’s going on?” she asked, mirroring the people's excitement while not knowing why.

“Look for yourself,” Johar encouraged as he glimpsed the procession making its way through.

Long free from the pack she carried, Egoraven found the nearest awning post and climbed just enough to see above everyone’s heads. Her ears perked all the way forward.

To the sound of trumpets, gleaming armor sparkled, and glorious banners of different heraldic symbols rippled as a train of knights on equally impressive horses paraded, whipping the crowd into a frenzy at their presence. Egoraven’s eyes widened along with the smile on her face. She was completely enamored. “They’re beautiful! Where are they going?”

“To Duke Mercer’s castle for tournament,” Johar yelled back over the roar of the crowd.

Amadaeo remained far enough from the rabble without losing sight of his niece.

“I’ve never seen an actual tournament before,” she continued.

“Unfortunately, commoners are not privy to the games nobles play,” Johar replied as he stepped closer. Egoraven turned to him.

“I’m a princess, remember?”

Amadaeo pinned his ears. “That is not something you should be making public,” he hissed. “Let Johar have his stories for the humans, but you should be leaving well enough alone.”

Egoraven felt a firm pat on her arm. “Come.” Johar slung his pack on his shoulder. “We still have several deliveries on our list.”

She watched the knights pass for a few moments more, feeling melancholy at needing to leave. Jumping down from her perch, she wondered if there was a way she could see those knights in shining armor again.

* * *

The simple meal of stew, cheese, and fresh bread had outshone every single one of the lavish, multi-course dinners she remembered in Edinrahn. Or maybe being on the run from dragons, ending up in an unfamiliar city, and immediately in the employ of a blacksmith forge charged her appetite to the point that even the simplest meal came off as decadent. Egoraven forced herself to savor every bite of vegetables and meat in the savory broth, the sharp, sliced cheese, and perfectly buttered bread, fighting the overwhelming urge to scarf down everything and then some like a ravenous animal.

Upstairs above the forge was a cozy single room with a small fireplace. One side was a galley kitchen-like area, while the facing wall contained shelves and trunks storing the common items and random bits and bobs of the three men living there. In the center of the room was a large table where they all sat, enjoying the final remnants of their meal with a familiar tea set at its center. A black and grey unicorn dozed at the hearth, sated by a stew meal of his own.

“Sales are so brisk I can barely keep the shop stocked,” Daniel spoke between sips of tea. “At this rate, we’ll do better than last year.”

Johar nodded. “Festival time is always good for us.”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, significantly less irritable than that morning. “Especially since you started making more decorative items.”

Drinking from his cup, the horse man nodded. “People always want to be surrounded by beautiful things. Getting the Artists’ Guild involved and adding their own items to the shop was such a good idea, Daniel.”

“It was Annie’s idea, not mine,” Daniel answered. “If she weren’t back at the monastery already, I’d be thanking her myself.”

Egoraven’s ears twitched as she listened to the conversation, feeling contented by the meal and taking in the warmth of the cup in her palm. She looked at the human sitting opposite her. “So, you and Johar are in business together?”

“And me too,” snapped the fox, incensed that she would omit him from her question. “This place doesn’t stay organized by itself.”

Daniel smirked as he gave a small roll of his eyes. “The Coal Horse was only me at first,” he continued. “I met Morgan when I was apprenticing in Acerael. Then I hired Johar when he came here from Kadaran.”

“You mean ASS-rael” Morgan snarked, stressing an incorrect emphasis. “I’m glad to be out of that shithole. At least I can have a proper job here. You’ll never catch me working in a slaughterhouse ever again.” He flared his rust-toned fur and exaggerated a disgusted shiver.

Egoraven gasped at the revelation. Daniel shook his head. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a shithole, but I’d agree it wasn’t the best place to be.” He turned back to Egoraven. “Doornham is definitely a much nicer place.”

“That’s saying a lot,” grumbled the unicorn by the fireplace. Egoraven blushed at the comment, causing Daniel to chuckle.

“Employment for people like us can be difficult to come by if you’re not willing to be regulated to distasteful work not even humans like doing,” Johar added for Egoraven’s benefit. “When I first came to Doornham, it was difficult, to say the least.” He turned to Daniel. “You were the only one willing to hire doubans.”

Egoraven perked up at the unrecognizable word. “Doubans?”

“It’s the old tongue word for animal-people,” Morgan answered, then his ears flattened. “Just don’t use the short version. It’s not exactly a term of endearment.”

“Why would people treat doubans that way?” she asked, taking a sip, then wondering. “I’m half unicorn. Does that make me a douban?”

They all looked at her, answering simultaneously in a mismatched chorus.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Maybe.”

Egoraven pursed her lips. “Oh,” she answered timidly.

“It doesn’t matter.” Daniel finished his tea. “You and your uncle are welcome here. That’s what matters. I’m not frightened by differences. People here just don’t understand you beyond what they’ve heard in fairy tales.”

“Even though some of them are true.”

“Morgan!” Johar yelled.

Daniel roughly rubbed his mouth and held up his hands. “No offense—!” he apologized loud enough for Amadaeo to hear. The unicorn answered with an annoyed snort.

The human leaned close to the fox, trying to temper his own exasperation “Could you relax with that?” Morgan huffed in reply. Daniel sat back up and adjusted his glasses as he faced Egoraven again. “Sorry about that,” he said with a little wave.

“It’s fine,” she whispered back with a shy smile.

“Speaking of festival time…” Johar started to change the subject. “Have you decided which contests you are entering?”

The fox lit up at the question. “Decided? I’m sweeping archery like I always do.” He fluffed up in smugness. “Just because high-borns want to play by themselves doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t play. And the prizes aren’t shabby, either.”

Daniel gave a mischievous smirk. “I think it would be wonderful to introduce Egoraven to the contests.”

“What?”

“A splendid idea,” Johar jumped in as Morgan’s muzzle dropped. “Although these aren’t quite the same, they are no less thrilling.”

Egoraven’s tail wagged at the idea. Maybe she wouldn’t see the knights from the parade, but it would be close enough. “I would love to!” she excitedly answered until she saw the fox’s reaction and hesitated. “That is if you don’t mind.”

Morgan’s ears pinned as Daniel and Johar stared him down with tight smiles. He groaned, knowing there was only one answer he could give. “Just remember to keep your magic to yourself,” he grumbled.

It will just have to do.

They continued sharing small talk until Egoraven noticed a familiar gold disk hanging above the mantle—the austere-faced sun whose empty eyes seemed to follow her. “What is that sun symbol I see everywhere?” she asked. “It haunts me with its constant gaze.”

“That’s Mithraea-Helo, the sun god,” Daniel explained. “It’s considered powerful protection to have his symbol in the home.”

“Bah,” Morgan coughed. “Gods only make things complicated.”

Egoraven was torn between continuing to stare at it and looking away. She lowered her eyes to Amadaeo, who had been lying quietly the entire time. He looked tired, but not the type that can be slept off. She reached out to him. “Would you like some more food, Uncle? You haven’t really eaten much.”

“I am fine, child,” Amadaeo answered. “I am just very tired from everything.” He continued watching the fire.

Johar leaned over. “It’s because of the Pull, isn’t it?”

Egoraven was surprised to hear him mention it. “You probably know more about it than I do.” She crawled out of her seat onto the floor. “Prince Rillian mentioned something about it keeping everyone in the valley, but I don’t know. Supposedly, that’s what trapping the dragons inside, but I don’t feel anything. Yet Amadaeo looks like he’s been dragged all the way.” She placed her hands on the unicorn’s neck.

“What the—!”

A strong tingling shot through her hands and up her arms, not painful, but very uncomfortable. Amadaeo felt it as well and turned to his niece to see what was happening, only to not understand either.

Her fingers began to sparkle, then glow brightly, magic surging through the both of them.

“Amadaeo! What’s happening?” she cried as both their horns shimmered. With a flash of light, everything went black.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open to reveal a sea of darkness and points of light, looking like stars, but it was not the sky. A halo shined beneath her hooves, and she realized where she was. “I’m back here again… the place from my dream,” she spoke to herself, knowing she wasn’t dreaming.

A shadow appeared from the darkness, just as it happened before, but this one was different from the first time. It obviously wasn’t the ghostly unicorn, but even with its similar inky coat that melded into the dark, it didn’t look like Alaric either. A bronze horn revealed itself.

“Blackavar—?” Egoraven called out as she recognized him, but something was not quite right. Blackavar stood with empty white eyes, staring at something she couldn’t see. Wondering if he was an illusion, she cautiously reached out. The magic began to spark again through her hand, this time feeling like a magnet instead of a shock. Unable to resist, Egoraven touched Blackavar’s neck. She staggered as her vision went white again.

The throne room rang with the sounds of protest as crying elves and unicorns alike were crowded and corralled along the sides, keeping the grand red carpet leading to the dais clear. Armored Rakans patrolled the hall, the vicious claws of their hind legs clacking against the marble as they walked. Also standing guard along the carpet edge and pillars were Raikashan handlers, the Dragon Lords who controlled the raptors and also kept an equal eye on their prisoners.

Another regiment of Rakans entered the hall, flanking the last prisoner whose presence silenced the lamenting captives in a wave as they passed. Alaric, king of the unicorns of Edinrahn, walked silently towards the dais as his guards rattled and snarled with each breath. He held his head high, his horn shimmering with magic that would not save him. The lead raptor lowered a spear that threatened to split his chest, stopping them before the steps that led to the throne. A pall came over the hall as a Dragon Lord stepped into view and overlooked the scene.

Even among the Raikashans, he towered over them, a dragon of steel grey crowned by a pair of curved ivory horns. A long blue cloak fanned behind him, enlarging his already large frame encased in armor and leather. Beside him, overshadowed on one side, stood the elf prince. On the other, a bronze unicorn mare flanked by her yearling son.

“So, Rillian. You may be Gardowin’s heir, but it is obvious to whom the throne belongs.” Rillian sneered as Alaric turned his stern gaze. “And Lilith—I thought you capable of much, but not this.” Lilith did not react to the accusation.

The steel dragon looked down at the black stallion. “Now, Alaric. There is no need for hostilities here.”

“As opposed to the hostilities you bring to my domain, Bilakath,” Alaric answered sharply.

“My domain, now,” he retorted. “And as such, you will refer to me as Lord Bilakath.”

Alaric snorted. “Your mortal title means nothing to me.”

“Then let me offer something that does,” the dragon continued. “You and your herd can remain in the valley with little interference from us…”

The stallion would not hear it. “We have been enemies since the dawn of time,” he interrupted, his voice echoing. “No Arisyan will bow to a Raikashan.”

The unicorns in the crowd shuffled and whinnied in response, and the elves cowered.

“Don’t be a fool,” Lilith shouted, silencing the dissenters. “Surely you can see an alliance will strengthen our position in this world. The mortal realm attempts more and more to encroach on us. Joining our magic with the dragons will show them that we are not to be trifled with.”

“And where do the Eihdans fit in that alliance, Prince Rillian?” Alaric pointed his gaze to the elf prince, who seethed at the proceedings. “What of your people whose magic is not strong enough to match ours? Who can’t even survive without ours? How they speak with no mention of your people.”

Rillian bared his teeth, about to retaliate, until Bilakath stepped in, raising a hand in dismissal. “Your discussion is with me, Alaric. Rillian is of no consequence here.”

The prince snapped at being insulted from two directions. “No consequence?” He exploded at the dragon. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here!” Thunderous chatter waved as the elves faced how deep their betrayal went.

A dispassionate Bilakath turned his back on the elf prince and took a seat on the throne, almost mocking Rillian with how deliberately he lowered himself onto the velvet cushions and claimed the royal seat of his murdered father. “And what of your promise?” he snarled. “I do not see the half-breed princess here.”

Lilith tossed her mane in offense. “Why the interest in Alaric’s disgrace?” she spat. “We do not need her.”

“Do not presume to know what we need, my dear mare,” Bilakath answered without facing her. Instead, he kept his yellow eyes firmly on the black unicorn before him.

“You will not have her.” Alaric glared.

The Raikashan placed a clawed finger on his lips, contemplating. The gesture commanded a silence that made the air thick with tension. “It matters not,” he finally answered. “The Pull will bring your whelp back soon enough, and we will be waiting with open arms and sharpened blades.”

Alaric was so focused on the dragon that sat before him as a conqueror he didn’t catch a red-cloaked handler rushing up to him. The guards backed away as Alaric reared, noticing too late, the Raikashan cracking what looked like a whip. As it wrapped tightly around the unicorn’s neck, Alaric realized what it was. The woven belt of blue silk and thread, shimmering with the golden runes of dwarven craftsmen, ran all along its length. The dragon deftly snapped the buckle shut, locking it in place. For a split second, Alaric stood wearing what looked like a simple collar. Then, the runes began to glow.

The unicorn let out an ear-piercing screech that threatened to shatter stone and glass alike, thrashing violently against invisible bonds as the surrounding dragons watched and waited. The unicorns and elves reacted in horror, not understanding what they were witnessing. With one last cry, Alaric fell to the ground with a painful thud.

Bilakath cracked a grin, exposing jagged, yellow teeth. “The collar that binds you has been enspelled. Unlike Eihdans, Raikashans have a working knowledge of magic.” He dragged his claws against the wood of the throne, leaving marks. “It is called The Ribbon of Fenrisúlfr.” He growled, savoring the heavy, distressed breathing coming from the fallen unicorn. “Well, at least a weaker variation, but no less potent.” A sound rumbled from the back of the dragon’s throat, the closest to a chuckle Bilakath gave. “You are very fortunate the dwarf craftsmen were incapable of completing the spell. Seems there was a missing component that they were unable or unwilling to find. But no matter. I don’t think you would have wanted to experience its full strength, anyway.” He smiled again. “What god would intervene to save you?”

“What are you doing?” The bronze mare was terror-struck, watching Alaric, his horn dull and drained, struggle against the magic of the collar and failing. “You promised we would live here as before. He is king stallion. Without him, we cannot—”

“Control the stallion, control the herd,” Bilakath spat. “The Raikashans are your masters now.”

A unicorn with a golden coat jumped to the front of the hall, causing the raptors to snarl and snap to attention, their spears at the ready. “Why are you just standing there? Are you going to allow yourselves to be betrayed by one of your own?” he cried to the elves, who shrank at the accusation. “Eihdans may be easily betrayed, but we are far from it! No dragon rules us! I stand by my rightful leader!” At his call, more unicorns joined him.

“I stand with Alaric as well!”

“As do I!”

As the chorus of defiance echoed in the hall, the Rakans whipped their tails furiously, waiting for any signal from their handlers. Instead, the Raikashans showed unusual patience.

“No!” came a raspy voice. “I will not allow anyone to sacrifice themselves on my behalf.” Just speaking made Alaric falter from the exertion.

“Without you, we have no freedom!” The gold unicorn jumped closer to the steps, turning hateful eyes toward the elf prince. “Don’t think your betrayal will go without consequences from us.”

Rillian returned the glare with equal loathing. “You are in no position to threaten anyone, horse.”

Bilakath rose from the throne, raising his clawed hand. “By the great Mother Dragon Miraon, you are witness to a new beginning,” he roared. “The kingdoms of Men will tremble beneath our power!”

The great hall exploded in cheers from the dragons, raising their fists and weapons in the air. The elves looked on in dismay, wondering what this meant to them as a people. The unicorns, however, dared to find out.

“I have had enough!” The unicorn leaped onto the steps, aiming his horn directly at the dragon at the top, who just stared without reaction.

It was unknown who sent the signal, but all the Rakans around the dais surged at once. Their primal restlessness finally let loose, their blades skewered the stallion in a shower of metal and blood. No amount of healing magic could overpower the severity of the attack, the raptors stabbing and slicing until the animal began to pull apart, causing them to drool furiously as ravenous hunger added to their frenzy.

Several commanding cries called to the Rakans, causing them reluctantly to back away from their kill, leaving what remained of the unicorn scattered in a pile of gore on the steps. What bravery he inspired in his kin before that moment, vanished. Lilith unsuccessfully tried to shield Blackavar from the sight as the yearling recoiled, his eyes wide and his body trembling.

Bilakath returned to his seat. Pulling a dagger from his belt, he offered it to the distracted elf prince, who stared, mouth agape at the carnage. “Bring me the horn,” he demanded.

Rillian sputtered. “Me? Why don’t you have your lizards do it? They were more than happy to do everything else.”

Bilakath shot him a glare as he continued to balance the blade in his hand. “You want me to hold up my end of the bargain, don’t you? Then don’t make me repeat myself.”

Unable to take his eyes off the defiled steps, Rillian snatched the dagger. Stepping close, he hesitated, not wanting to imagine how the dragons were going to clean up this mess, as the Rakans stared excitedly and salivated. Finding what was left of the unicorn’s head, he grabbed the horn and began to hack away with the dagger. The sound reverberated throughout the silent hall. Rillian didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until the horn separated and forced a gasp out of him.

“Mark this well… this… is your birthright.”

Rillian peered through strands of sweat-matted hair at the black unicorn staring back at him with ice-cold eyes. Gritting his teeth, he stood back up, making a show of wiping the dagger on his pants leg. As disturbed as he was, he couldn’t help but still hate the unicorns with all his being. In a last act of defiance to the unicorn king, Rillian marched back to the dragon on his father’s throne and handed over the horn.

Behind them, Lilith refused to watch any more of the proceedings as Blackavar relived the attack over and over. Alaric let out one last deep sigh and succumbed to unconsciousness.

With a satisfied smile, Bilakath took the prince’s gift and did not say another word.

* * *

Egoraven woke to her own screaming in her ears, unaware she was doing it. Lashing out away from Amadaeo, the bond broke, causing the grey unicorn to let out a deep groan of his own and collapse further. The three men shot up from their chairs, with Johar quickly attending to the unicorn girl still locked in her trance.

He cradled her in his arms as Morgan and Daniel watched on helplessly.  “Egoraven! It’s all right, you’re with friends! You’re all right—” Johar rocked and continued speaking in a soothing voice, repeating his words until her shallow breathing returned to normal and clarity returned to her eyes.

She looked up to see the horse man, the human, and the fox staring back, her disorientation replaced with mortified embarrassment. “I’m all right... I… I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry.” She slowly sat up and reached out to her uncle, who nuzzled her in return.

“What happened?” Daniel asked, clenching his hands anxiously. Morgan was too stunned for any remark, much less a snarky one.

Egoraven hid her face in her hands, choking back a sob. “Blackavar—Alaric—I heard them—I saw them all in my head. My people are suffering, and I can’t help them.”