The Prayer of the Unicorn

Delicate flakes of white blew into Tarik Stasio�s face and gathered in his hair as the wind made the long strands twist and tangle with each violent blast. The force of the cold air pushed him back, and made it hard for him to breath, but still he trudged wearily up a snow-laden hill. Tarik leaned heavily against his broadsword, using it as a walking staff as he slowly, very slowly, urged himself away from the carnage of the battle that had taken place only hours ago. The fight had been as merciless as all those to precede it in this brutal war. Few had survived the day�s events, and even Tarik, who had been selected by the king himself to be one of the five Knights of Taran, had not come out unscathed. He clutched his side painfully, trying to stop the flow of blood from a deep gash in his side where an enemy sword had found it�s way around his protective armor. The heavy weight of the armor and the sudden loss of blood made each step more difficult than the last.

Tarik blinked, trying to bring his fuzzy vision into focus and looked down to see a drop of crimson fall and join with pure white. Fingers of red slowly reached out from the spot as it soaked into the snow, and soon the small spot expanded as more ruby droplets fell from Tarik�s side. His silver sword, tarnished with blood, fell from his hand. �Pity.� He said simply, staring at the lifeless, shimmering sword lying haphazardly in the snow. He let himself fall to the ground and closed his eyes, waiting for the darkness to claim him. As he lay there, his blood mixing with the earth, the wind shifted and the smell of burning death caught in his throat. His eyes flew open and he saw a shape moving towards him. It appeared to be an animal, and it would have looked equine had it not been made entirely of flames. He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating as it continued to advance toward him. Then suddenly, it stopped and lifted it's head to sniff the air, like a rabbit that senses danger, and with little hesitation it turned and went back from where it had come. The putrid odor of war and death receded and in its place came a sweeter, muskier scent, like that of the ocean, drifting on the breeze which was now not as cold and biting as it had been.

Tarik searched until his eyes fell on a sight that took even his breath away. A hundred yards to the west, just in front of the sinking sun stood a creature of unsurpassable beauty. It looked somewhat like a horse, with fur as soft and white as the fresh-fallen snow it was treading on, long graceful legs that ended in dainty silver cloven hooves, a mane and tale flowing in soft blue cascades, deep wise blue eyes that seemed to shift like the waves of the ocean, and a single horn spiraling up from its forehead. The colors of the horn sparkled and danced like the northern lights as the pied rays of the sunset shone on it.

Tarik continued to watch in awe as the elegant creature came ever closer, the smell of seashore now wafting through the air. He would have moved back when the beast lowered its horn calmly, as if to deal judgment on the knight, but he found that he was frozen in awe. It seemed all he could do was watch as the horn pierced the skin above his heart. His breath caught in his throat as he realized that it had not hurt at all, and that his wounds seemed to have closed.

He wondered briefly if he was dead, but before the question could leave his lips, it was answered; not out loud, or even telepathically, but without words, through music that could be heard only in the heart, like the song of the stars. Fear seized Tarik's heart for a moment, but it was immediately dispelled. He wasn't dead; the creature wasn't some celestial seraphim. No, the dark warrior was still earthbound.

�Why did it help me?� He mused to himself, and once again his question was answered.

They were kindred: both outcasts, both with a love of places that rejected them. For a moment a feeling of encouragement ran through Tarik's veins, as if the creature was lending him its strength, pleading with him to continue fighting for the world they both loved. He struggled to keep his eyes open longer, but was growing wearier by the second. Before long he gave into sleep, reassured by the gentle presence that willed him to go on.

~^~^~^~^~^~

The creature was still nearby watching when help came to the dark knight in the form of Silvanus Palidor, a kind hearted blonde elf who was also one of the Knights of Taran. The creature felt relief knowing it had helped one of the five. They had a light about them, these pure hearted warriors. Even after fighting so many battles, with the blood of hundreds on their hands, they still retained a kindness, a purity that made them shine.

Regret filled the creature's heart for a moment and it turned its noble head to the heavens, sending up a prayer. A prayer that these five would not be betrayed by those they fought for, that they might win their fight and when the end finally came, no matter what it might be, the sacrifices made by them would not be forgotten, that they not be disregarded and have their lives fade into oblivion . . . that they not share the fate of the unicorn.

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