it has come to pass...

The timeless maiden was a flawless alabaster canvas, with transfixing azul pools, depthless as the sea. Her visionaries were set opposite of each other and gave her superb peripheral vision. An ivory horn spiraled three feet in length from her brow, emanating a pearly iridescent glow. It was as light as titanium and was twice the resilience of steel. Her visage was placed on a slender, lustrous nape, delicately structured, but efficiently fabricated, leaving no room in her small cranium for hot air. Her exquisite muzzle lended to an unfathomable sense of redolence and her frail ears captured every resonating melodic note. Her compact torso spoke of stealth and strength, while her muscles moved with grace, like an ocean’s tide underneath a velvety fur coat. Her hide, taunt, glistened with a luxurious healthy sheen.

The moon encased her frame, under the magic of the diamond encrusted night sky. She only stood at fourteen-two, but withheld a heart greater and fiercer in size. Sturdy limbs extended from her bodice with simple eloquence, carrying her with sophisticated poise. Golden, cloven hooves keep her hoof falls silenced, lending her the ability to advance upon the land like a figment of your imagination. Milky strands of silk made up her mane and tail, while her bangs wrapped themselves around her petite ears and her ivory horn. The blood that coursed its way through her immortal existence, bled purple, and ran thick with a glittery substance.

Her light movements were swift over the terrain. Emerald hues blanketed the rainforest and moss was abundant, making for a cushy floor beneath her cloven hooves. It hadn’t been more than a few weeks since her transformation and she was still becoming accustomed to walking on four limbs again. Her fable was a long one, but to make the fairy tale short, she had started her journey as a unicorn, only to be changed into a human girl for the past twenty years of her life. Having experienced the mortal world, she had witnessed the sensation of her body dying every day. And now, it still haunted her. Her dreams devoured her in her slumber. She hadn’t been able to rest since evading the hunters. Every once in awhile, she still caught herself glancing back to her hind end, examining the shadow of her front end, seeing to it the were keeping up and not loosing their footing.


The sights and smells she drank in, as they were new to her. This place was new. She had only just arrived that morning. Though it had taken a few weeks of traveling through uncharted territory to even find this new world. Uncharted territory was land outside of the map, unbeknownst to the mapmakers of this time realm. It was like those in between places. She had had plenty of experience in that area. She had made short-term friends that had guided her through these in between places, lands that had yet to be discovered and mapped. But she was not afraid. She was a traveler of sorts. A gypsy if you must put a term to it. But all that time alone, gave her the window of opportunity to think about life. As a human, she had always been on the run, fighting for every dying breath she inhaled, and fearing the realization of having to exhale, only wanting to hold on to every moment she could. She was not ready to die.


She was not particularly looking for companionship at the moment, but should it show itself, she would not dismiss it. Her parched throat was begging for a drink of fresh spring fluid to quench her thirst. The sound of rushing water was music to her ears, and she found she had needed little encouragement for her limbs to gracefully advance her picturesque figure to the running water’s edge. Having a heightened sixth sense, compared to her human days, it did not take her long to locate the brook that made its way through the forest. The crystal clear liquid slowly gurgled and rippled with the flow of the current, paying no mind to the gravel and pebbles that took up space on the bottom floor. Stopping her motion, she lowered her dainty features to the blue crystals surface and drank heavily and greedily of the sweet liquid. For only a moment, did she allow the windows to her soul, to shut out the daylight, as she relished in the taste that spoiled her tongue like candy.


The morning birds sang their songs and fluttered through the crisp atmosphere. The lass wondered if she was the only one in the forest, besides nature itself. Were there any others who inhabited this world? Where was she anyway? What did they call this place? She was old enough to have seen many worlds’ form and dissolve. According to human time, she would be considered only two past her day of birth. But in the time known to all unicorns, she was actually two centuries past her day of birth. But many did not believe her, so she stuck with the measurement of time the humans used instead. She would just have to wait and see what lovely surprises awaited her in this new world. For it certainly was not her homeland.

osiris</style>

we resign ourselves to existence in the dark. </style>
we must stay afraid.  </style>

it has come to pass...

“Ophelia”

It was a four-syllable lyric that resonated like a bell and reverberated off the evergreens that surrounded the brook. The water’s crystal surface wrinkled with the trembling of the forest floor. The colourless maiden lifted her sea foam countenance with ease and redirected her gaze to her rear, resting her vision on the bearer who had spoken in a masculine tone, and who had also disturbed the brook’s stillness. His appearance favored that of the grey wolf, with a thick and massive fur coat. With no hooves to speak of, the canine paws answered her curiosity to the near silence that which could not be heard. It also explained the liquid’s sensitivity to the trembling it absorbed through the woodland’s sod.

Depthless ocean globes followed the unnatural looking creature, only ceasing when the breadth amidst them drew in its limitations. She established her sight a foot or two further elevated in conjunction with the varying size difference, and conceded the bewilderment that had overwhelmed his features at the sudden consciousness of her individuality. Where a smile had been once, was now lost to a memory. In lieu, humiliation took shape on his facet. Apparently she had surfaced a figment of his imagination that had trounced his senses. A small pull at the corners of her maw was a consolation of an apologetic understanding.

Sapphire eyes shifted and ears flitted as an apology was given to the mistaken identity between her and this other femora known as Ophelia. The winged critter that hovered above the equine pair let a knowing noise sound above them, acknowledging his master’s faux and vindication of assumption. The vintage mare took a prompt glance to observe Comadre, the stallion’s companion. Less than a foot in length, the little flying lizard, with bat-like wings, seemed to keep a watchful eye over his master. Her focus switched to the study of the creature before her. She was about to release a response, when her hearing aids tuned in to another set of hoof beats approaching.

Through the clearing, a mottled grey stallion came from the depths to grace the company of three with his presence. Mane and tail were exceedingly endless, as they draped to his knees and dusted the ground. Just as before, with dismay etched on the wolf-like stallion, so a shadow passed over this stallion’s features as so. She balked at such responses she had brought forth. She had seemed to reach a place with these two strangers that she had yet to unravel their mysteries for herself. But these hidden trinkets of information, highly classified she was certain, she had no use or intended curiosity to discover. Though the strangeness of it all still baffled her, only she chose to push it aside, for it did not concern her at this time.

Accepting both introductions at once, the bloodless and pale mare let her turquoise optics bounce back from one masculine form to the other. Only then did she take one receding stride, in the form of a bow. Arching her fine, feminine neck, she dipped her muzzle to her breast, careful not to place her horn where it ought not be. Then, and only then, did she return to her stance. The sun’s rays penetrated the deeply clothed canopy of the forest, and bathed the lady of alabaster in crystallized light that sparkled, glittering over her petite but toned torso.

"It is just as well, Osiris. It seems as if I am not the last of my kind." Her words were light and airy, but held a lady’s touch of melodic notes. She addressed the lupus beast first, as he deserved to know she held no resentment towards the misunderstanding.

"Good Morning Sir Boltar." Sweet bell like music waited quietly on the wind’s whisper to be accepted. She greeted the second steed with as much courteous as she had bestowed on the first.

"I am called N A D I R A."

Already, NADIRA could decipher the grey wolf. He seemed like an outcast, like a lone wolf, as the term is used. She had sensed it by his actions. They had been instantaneous to reach her side; only the sensation had been fleeting, for longing of another she had been mistaken for. He wasn’t alone in the mare’s discernment. It was the shadow that had passed over the mottled farrow’s detailed exterior. He too had a close recollection rise deep from within, that had brought with it sorrow. But to address each would not be appropriate. Only time could heal and give her direction as to where she should go.

osiris</style>

we resign ourselves to existence in the dark. </style>
we must stay afraid.  </style>

it has come to pass...

NADIRA contemplated Osiris’s movements. Odd and isolated, he was unsure of himself. Bewildered by her acceptance of him. Cocking her façade, she had already seen strange things. His strange form was nothing new. Even his retreat spoke of broken trust, but broken trust in what? And Boltar… he seemed caught between emotions. She was no mind reader, but actions spoke louder than words. These two held individually strange behavior, and in their own right, they held a feral appearance to them. But it did not make them feral, did it? Can you really base a creature off of their semblance alone?

Then again, maybe, it was her that had made the atmosphere seem unsettled. She admitted, when she had first come to the understanding of the past twenty years of her life, spent as a lost soul, trapped in a mortal’s body, and then come home, to the body that had been patiently waiting for her, she had been terrified. But with time to think, on her journey here, wherever her was… Helovia they called it? She had had an unlimited amount of hushed moments to herself to ponder. It still scarred her, but nothing so much as the feeling of her body continuously dying, day after day; the feeling of becoming mortal. She, as a unicorn, probably would have been lost to the human world, had it not been for the portal she had stumbled through on accident.

The tension that had matured, thick with heaviness, hung in front of her, as curt replies were traded from stallion to stallion. Shifting her weight to her rear end, she felt herself being evaluated. Could her etiquette really be ancient as time? Had she really been away from her embodiment that long? A unicorn held their own fables, compared to other mythical beasts, but had her world forsaken her so, to lead her astray to a new world?

Orbs of a glacier blue did not reflect her companions, but instead held the reflection of the forest and of the ocean; which-so-ever the looker was blessed with to gaze at, kind of like listening to the ocean in a seashell. These were the windows to her soul. They quivered from one resting body to the other, trying to grasp the realization that she may not be the last of her kind, but she was the last. That the unicorns had been… oh what was the word? Lost? Lost to themselves, in the depths of their being. Captured by this new world they had been thrown into?

It was actually quite astonishing how quickly she had fallen back into her old habits, or so she could only assume. That there had been some part of her that had not been lost to the human girl she had once been. Maybe there was still hope for her yet. But she did not wish to change who she was. If anything, she wished to preserve who she was. The last of her kind, of an era now only known to the fairy tales she had once been exposed to as a little girl. Elegant, innocent, pure, and wise, but she had been tainted in her own way, and she wondered how that would change things.

Shaking her tiara, the sunlight caught hold of her milky stands, and coruscated bits of her silky fiber, like a lake’s surface under the moonlight. How does one respond to being told their ‘customs’ were not shared? It would have been just as well she would be the last, if that were the case. Would she ever belong anywhere?

NADIRA kept her composure to herself, except for her slight exchange of weight distribution. She already felt as if her every move was going to be recorded and criticized. At this moment, she felt like Osiris, she was sure, feeling like you were the only one, among so many of your kind. She cast her pools on the beast, watching Comadre. She had found the comfort in silence, but knew she would have to eventually break it at some point. And that was when she heard Boltar’s invitation to his home… Where had he said he was from? A land that was just north… Oh dear, Foothills, was it called? It sounded correct. The invitation was tempting. She desperately wanted to have a place to call home again. She was growing weary of not belonging. Though traveling and seeking out adventure she would never grow weary of.

Sharpness fell over Boltar. The antique alabaster mare hadn’t noticed his relaxing demeanor, until the tension resurfaced. At his brisk invitation, she had already made up her mind that she would accept, but she wished Osiris would oblige and come with her. In such a short period, the connection, imprinting they call it, had formed slightly. Not an imprinting of romance, but of a deep friendship she had never known until now.

"Boltar, I am no warrior. War does not live in these bones. Though, a place to rest I cannot deny. "

She knew her soliloquy was distinct, but she wasn’t about to conform to a fashion she was not accustomed to. She redirected her vision to Osiris.

"Would you oblige me, Osiris, and come with me to this land of which Boltar speaks?"

Her breath was not held, for she was already certain of the answer. But one could not be certain without a verbal denial or acceptance. Delicate ears paused, facing the lupus, wondering if he had felt the strange connection she had, or if she had been mistaken.

osiris</style>

we resign ourselves to existence in the dark. </style>
we must stay afraid.  </style>