The unicorns traveled for weeks, trudging through muddied paths and dense brush, through mosquito-infested woods, and prickly woodlands. Their hides were scraped, turning the white of their coats to a grayish, blood-matted colour. Burrs stuck to their fur.
Ulysees and Téo’s thoughts turned often to Danae in the weeks as they journeyed.
“I wonder if he’s okay,” Téo whispered one night.
“He must be. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made us go on,” said Ulysees.
“But I’ve heard that if no one heals you, that a wound can fester and even kill you.” Téo’s eyebrows turned up in a worried expression. “We should have gone back.”
Ulysees shook his head. “We couldn’t. You know that. Danae wouldn’t let us.”
“Maybe not, but I sure hope the giant beasts didn’t get him.”
Ulysees’ coat twitched at his friend’s words. “Me too.”
They continued their trek until the old moon turned dark, and a new one took its place, its light filtering through the trees and casting enchanting shadows. It was on this night that Ramah halted the herd and addressed them.
“All hail Icarus,” her voice rumbled.
Ulysees’ muscles tightened as he waited for the stallion to speak. What bad news would he deliver now?
Icarus stepped forward with an air of decisiveness. “Mares and stallion, colts and fillies, we’ve traveled for the duration of an entire moon since we left our home. It’s been difficult, but I now believe we are safe from the humans as well as the giant beasts that surely roamed the valley. And so I’ve decided we’ll set about searching for a new hidden spot among the trees to call our home at dawn.”
Ulysees’ mouth dropped. “It’s actually over?”
Téo’s face lit up. “I guess it is!”
The unicorns cheered. They pranced about despite their fatigue, their hooves dancing on the lush ground beneath them. Stallions reared while the younger unicorns bucked and galloped about.
After they celebrated, the foals explored their new surroundings in the dark with wonder-filled eyes.
Ulysees breathed in the rich smell of the foliage. He bent his head to taste the sweet grass at his feet. Water bubbled close by. Turning toward the sound, he stopped when he spied Alannah wading in the creek.
He watched her from the corner of his eye, his gaze shifting to her over and over again. Funny, he’d never noticed how pretty she was.
Alannah dipped her nose in the water, her silvery white coat reflected in the sheen of the moonlight. Catching his glances, she took timid steps to the bank and climbed onto the grass a short distance from him, nibbling at the tender shoots.
Ulysees secretly watched her for a while longer, and then said, “You know you’re going to get fat if you eat too much of that.” His mouth turned up into a crooked smile.
Alannah regarded him, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Kidding,” he said.
She huffed and flipped back her mane.
They stood in awkward silence for a spell until Ulysees gathered up his courage to say the words he’d been thinking. “Alannah … I’m really sorry about being mad at you. You were right. We all have to stick together.”
She looked uncertain for a moment, and then her face brightened as she broke into the sweetest smile. “It’s okay,” she said.
“It’s just that I was so humiliated that day,” Ulysees explained.
“I know. And I’m sorry I told, but I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Ulysees felt his face grow warm. “Aw, thanks.”
They stood silent again, nibbling on the grass, content to be in each other’s presence. Ulysees grunted from time to time while Alannah swished her tail lazily. As the moon lowered in the sky, they sauntered back to the herd where they all huddled for the night beneath the branches of a wide banyan.
* * *
The next day, after the long shadows had faded into the darkness of the indigo night, Ramah addressed them all again. The herd scrambled at attention, their eyes hopeful.
“It’s been a long journey, and I’m glad we’ve arrived,” Icarus began. “Everything we need is here – sweet grass, fresh water, even purple flowers, though not as plentiful as in the valley of the bones. Most of all, there are trees, lots of trees, where we can continue to live as shadows.”
Mournful cries resounded at his last words.
“But we’re tired of being shadows,” said a mare.
“Yeah. Aren’t we far enough that we can live openly now?” whinnied an older stallion. “The sun feels so good.”
“And I enjoyed the freedom of moving from one place to another, even if it was during an exodus,” said Sarah.
Icarus’ face knotted into a scowl. “No!” he said, his voice stern. “We must follow the Legacy of Azaria. That means we will flee humans until the end of time. Have you all forgotten? Has the smell of purple flowers crazed your minds?”
Ulysees dared not speak.
“Did you hear me? The end of time.” His hoof thumped the ground, emphasizing each word.
“But –” began Téo.
“Silence, or suffer the wrath of Jaresh! I’m the Great Stallion. You’ll do as I command you!”
Ulysees glanced at his friend. Téo shifted his weight in response.
“Good.” Icarus threw back his head, holding it high. “Now, because of our circumstances, I have decided that our foals will be initiated this very night.”
A round of gasps rippled through the herd.
“But we’re not quite yearlings,” Ulysees whispered to Téo.
“No, but we do have small horns.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
The Great Stallion’s anger dissipated as he spoke, “We shall begin with Ulysees. Ulysees step forward and stand before your matriarch.”
The colt wandered over, his footsteps uncertain, to where Ramah stood.
The ancient mare’s eyes met his as she addressed him. “Ulysees, the explorer, you have always been adventurous, and though that sense of adventure endangered the herd, your careless actions alerted us that humans lived nearby. Because of this, your crime has been forgiven. Therefore, I command you to kneel.”
Emotion welled up inside Ulysees at the kindness in her voice, but he bit his lip and lowered himself onto the knees of his forelegs, waiting. Ramah moved forward and pierced the tip of her horn to his shoulder. He winced in pain as the horn broke his skin. Energy flowed through his entire body, and heat surged through his brain. He felt feverish, and his legs tingled. The sounds of the forest began to drift away as Ulysees lost consciousness. He was about to surrender to darkness when his mind drifted back.
Ramah had removed her horn.
Ulysees let out a long, slow breath and awaited her next command.
“Rise!”
Ulysees obeyed, then faced the herd. The unicorns cheered.
Ramah turned to Téo. “Téo, the defender,” she said, “You have always shown strength and courage. Though you have engaged in great folly, I believe you’ve matured and that you will be a guardian to our legacy. Therefore, I command you to kneel.”
Téo lowered himself, and she dug her horn into his shoulder.
Ulysees watched in awe as his friend trembled, his face crumpled in pain. Fearing Téo would pass out, he held his breath. Téo shuddered violently and began to sway. Then Ramah removed her horn. His shuddering ceased, and he grew calm again.
“Rise!” she commanded.
Téo pushed himself up and faced the herd, his eyes shining with confidence as they cheered.
“Alannah,” The matriarch said, “you are renowned for your great beauty and poise. And it is for those traits that you may one day be regarded as a queen within our herd. Kneel before me.”
Ramah pierced the filly’s white coat with her horn. Alannah’s muscles stiffened, her head bent in agony. Her eyes rolled upward, and she took a sharp breath and held it for a moment before letting it escape as the matriarch withdrew.
“Rise!” Ramah commanded.
When Alannah rose, she was more radiant than ever.
“Lilia, the quiet and gentle one. You have been through many trials and tribulations that have given you a kindness and understanding unsurpassed. You have the gift of inner beauty and shall teach this to the young. Go forth and inspire our youth.” Again the horn pierced flesh as Lilia received her initiation. Her face twisted in pain. A gentle light glowed from within her body, and then, like a soft sunset, faded. She waited on bended knees.
“Rise!” Ramah said.
Lilia rose, her eyes moist as the others cheered.
Her expression softening, Ramah turned to the others and addressed them. “And now, mares and stallions, I present to you, our four new initiates.”
The unicorns pounded their hooves against the ground, their neighs and whinnies rising above the night noises of the forest.
Ramah waited until the joyous sound died, then said, “And now, let us walk in the shadow of Jaresh and keep alive the Legacy of Azaria.”