it has come to pass...

Oh how weary she was. All the commotion she had ensued since arriving from Earth had caught up with her. She had become quite found of the Threshold. It had been her first introduction to this new world, known by others as Helovia. But she cared not for the name, only for what it could offer her. Seeing as she had been lead astray from her birthplace. It was quite a foretelling chronicle of her existence, up until now. Quite frankly, at this moment, all she yearned for was a peaceful slumber and nothing more. With inaudible rhythm, her lithe limbs bore her restless immortal frame. Her canvas was of pure moonlight, and her golden cloven hooves sparkled with newness. Though in human years she had only witnessed two decades, in unicorn fashion, she had seen two centuries. But by coming here, she had formed assumptions that lead her to tell others she was only of two seasons. She had yet to find anyone to completely trust, and until then would guard herself.

Her willingness to endure the search for the perfect place to rest her weary bones finally rewarded her greatly. A small brush, on the outskirts of the tree-lined forest, beckoned her. She was relatively small in stature, compared to those she had already came in contact with, so finding comfort in a confide overhang of the brush was of no concern to her. Strands of milky silk lightly tapped against her sleek and slender nape, placed with considerable forethought on her well sloping shoulders. Her façade was petite, and her weapon of choice stretched three feet from her brow. It was made of ivory, with a classic twist of growth. With the lightness of titanium, it was but ten fold that of the strength of steel. As she came upon the little brush, she knelt with the grace only known to unicorns, but not meeting the soiled ground. She sat mid air, like that of a toddler and crept into place before lowering her alabaster canvas underneath the protection she had chosen.

Listening to the wind weave its way through the tall grasses and whistle a light tune, the crickets joined in and off in the distance, the croak of frogs could be heard. Nature’s lullaby could not be out done. A slight breeze rustled the leaves above, and soon enough the heaviness of sleep overtook her. Slowly her eyelids closed over her glacier sapphire pools, and she was no longer troubled with the world’s illusions and distractions.

The unicorn fought tirelessly in her slumber. Fighting the demons of her past and those who had hunted her down day after day, night after night, wishing to end her life. Her limbs moved with swiftness, trying to run from the nightmares that had begun to devour her once again. Would there ever be any peace for her? It was at the climax of the horror that threatened her, she could feel the bare twigs reach for her, claw at her, pulling her from reality and suffocating her, when a loud crash brought her back to the meadow of the Threshold. With surprising fleetness, she sprung out of her hiding, sides heaving as she fought for air. Sweat beads had drowned her small and petite ballerina bodice. Her frail, but flawless ears swiveled to desperately distinguish the loud ruckus that had drawn her from her nightmare. But with the shade of the larger trees, and the absence of the moon’s light, she was able to stay hidden as she witnessed the scene play out before.

A mare of pale gold and a stag of chocolate, dipped in fudge appeared in the open. They both kept their distance, fearing the other was a threat of some kind. The stag ruffled his beautifully distinguished wings, while the mare inquired about his safe landing. Some safe landing if it had disturbed her enough from the stronghold of her terrors. She held in a defying snort, not wanting to give her location away. Though if it hadn’t been for his reckless fall, she may never have awoken. She would never know, thank goodness. And then another mare with wings appeared from nowhere, as far as she was enlightened. Granted she had been too focused on the pair in front of her to keep an observing eye on the lookout. She was of a richer golden hue, with pale locks, and gorgeous golden wings that glistened like heaven. She had to admit, though the unicorn was of ancient lore, the pegasi was just as revered in her standing.

So the stag of the sky was known as Galen. It was a good solid calling. And as for the golden maiden, she called himself Kri. It was short and simple, and surprisingly it fit her. Why, she had no idea, but it did. But the pale gold mare still had yet to give her name. The unicorn was satisfied with her position. She was still trying to calm herself from the rude awaking, but slowly her heartbeat was receding to normalcy. She didn’t know when she would make herself known. But this was not a good time for the bloodless maiden to appear to the party of three. She would bide her time, and let the opportunity present itself.