A light silvery glow seems to emanate from deep inside of him, this majestic being of fierce beauty. The moonlight reflects off of his sleek silver coat. His mane of shimmering crystals seems to catch the light and hold to it fiercely. His tail sweeps the ground, not catching a speck of dust. The most breathtaking point of his appearance is that golden horn, that one spike of purity. The innocence in his wide, deep, blue eyes is apparent. Those deep blue orbs with flecks of silver in them greatly resemble the midnight sky. He stoops gracefully to take a drink from the sparkling lake, the water dripping off of his fine whiskers catches the light of the moon, and sends it in a thousand different directions, as he lifts his majestic head. He shakes his mane slightly, letting out a soft whinny of satisfaction. He moves with the grace of a practiced gentleman, the muscles rippling underneath his soft coat.
In his comfort, he does not notice the evil that approaches until it is too late. A strong rope is thrown around his neck and lashed quickly to a nearby tree. He panics. He bucks and kicks at anything near. And yet, the mage is not daunted. She simply holds her hands palms up, and whispers a few sultry words and the unicorn is still. The magnificence of the animal is more than she anticipated. He only sees the threat of not being able to flee. The resemblance of the intelligence in both of their eyes is uncanny. He shakes his head, struggling to free himself from this bond. She removes the rope from the tree and tries to lead him behind her. When he does not cooperate, she lashes at his flanks with a whip. An animal once so magnificent, is now a broken-spirit. The animal she truly wanted, she could never have. That flying free spirit is now gone. The luster has disappeared from his eyes. His coat no longer shines, but is dull. The essence of his life flows from the open wounds from her whip, making him weak.
Finally, she can lead him no more . . . he silently drops to his knees, looks to the sky one last time, then lays on his side and gives up hope. A crystal teardrop falls from his eyes just before he closes them. A unicorn can only fall under the hands of another. The innocence of the world is now gone, and all because of the selfishness to contain what never truly belonged to anyone except nature. Even now, every place that his silvery blood was spilt, naught will grow.
Copyright ©2002: Megan E. Dickerson
October 6, 2002