by Blake Rivers
“He? You mean the vampire? They do exist then?” she asked.
The man smiled. “If they do exist, he is not one of them. He is much worse.”
Much worse? This dream was quickly turning into a nightmare, and she still hadn’t woken up. The fire spat between them, orange sparks flying into the air and rising toward the canopy of trees above.
“Please tell me, where am I? What am I doing here? Who are you? And who is the vampire, and what the hell was that black cloud thing? Why are we in here? Just…” Ami broke off, confused and overwhelmed. Tears sprang to her eyes, though she fought them back; the fire blurred everything orange.
The man sighed. “To answer those questions, I need to tell you who you are first.”
“Who I am? I know who I am!” She wiped her eyes.
“You are Princess Ami, heir to the throne of Legacy.”
Ami frowned. That wasn’t what she expected, though she didn’t truly know what she did expect. “I’m not a princess.”
“Yes, yes you are,” he said, looking down. “It was always going to be hard to explain, because you’ve never been told, have never known. No one knew. It is only a recent revelation to myself and our people, but I assure you that you are.”
Ami looked around her suddenly, her skin crawling as if someone was behind her, watching her. The man waited for her eyes to come back to his.
“I am Hero, Captain of the Guard of Legacy. The Guard keep the throne of Legacy for the heir, and protect the city. There is…much to discuss, and much you must learn. However, Adam will not make it easy for us.”
“Adam?” Ami shivered.
“Yes, Adam. The vampire as you called him. Though not a vampire, he is an evil and twisted man, a user of sacred power, now wretched.” Hero squinted into the fire. “It was he that created the storm cloud, using his power against us. Xavier was able to rally the herd in time, and it is the herd we should be grateful to. Adam is a shadowy part of history.”
Ami shook her head. “I’m an art student. I go to university and study art. I don’t even know whether we’re still in England.” If she were Dorothy, where was Toto? Because this sure wasn’t Kansas. “I just…I don’t care about princesses, legacies, evil vampire men and unicorns. I just want to wake up!”
Hero’s eyes were ablaze.
“You do care, about a lot of those things,” he said in a whisper above the crackle. “You paint them, you dream them, you imagine them. I know you do for I have seen your life, and you dream of Legacy.”
Ami shook her head, laughing in frustration. She’d love to disagree with him, argue her point, tell him that no, this had nothing to do with her, and it was all a damned dream anyway. And yet, what he said was true. In Ami’s earliest memories, her happiest dreams, her inspiration, there had always been unicorns and forests, bright colours and secret places, hidden and magical. But this was all just that, wasn’t it? Her imagination? Her dream? She was asleep. Had to be.
“Xavier showed me, let me glimpse your life, your hopes and dreams, proof beyond reason that you are the princess we never knew existed.”
Hero lifted a burning branch from the fire and blew the flame from the end. Standing, he came to her side and crouched back down. She shuffled away, but Hero lowered the end of the branch to the edge of his cloak and drew a large circle in black upon the fabric.
“This is earth.” He checked to make sure she was following. Ami nodded. “This one represents where we are.” He drew a smaller circle, just within the first. “And this one, is a different place, and this one another one again.” He drew two more circles, each just within the last.
“This outer layer is where you are from, and what you know, and who you know. Your whole existence is here.” He pointed with the branch to the outer layer and looked up at Ami before continuing. “The second layer exists in exactly the same space, but is a layer below yours. And the same for these other two here. There are an infinite number of layers to this world.”
Ami shook her head. “Each layer is a reality,” he concluded. “You are still on the same earth, but in a different reality. I brought you from yours,” he drew a line from the outer circle to the next one in, “to ours. If you have the power to rip into a layer, you can travel to any layer you wish.” He continued the line straight through the circles.
Ami considered the crude drawing. Was it possible? Could she actually be in another reality? She looked around her again, the being watched feeling acute.
Hero continued.
“Your father’s name is Graeme. He was the last Lord of Legacy.”
Ami looked up at Hero and then burst into laughter. “My father? He’s an illustrator.” She shook her head, but Hero wasn’t getting the joke. “He isn’t a lord and has never been a lord of anything.”
“Ami, all is not as it once seemed. I know this is a shock, but Lord Graeme ruled Legacy, as did his father, and his father before him. Graeme disappeared from Legacy and never returned.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, what you’re talking about.” Ami stood up and walked far from the fire, back into the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The trunks and branches squeaked, sending a shiver down her back as the feeling of being watched grew stronger.
“I know you don’t,” Hero said, following her with his whisper, “and that’s something we’ll rectify on our way to Legacy.”
“Is this not Legacy?”
“No,” he said. “Legacy is a land to the west, a beautiful city upon a mountain peak. It overlooks all other lands: the Planrus Lands and Noxumbra in the east, the sea to the west, the Madorus Lands to the south, and the impenetrable forests of the Mortrus Lands to the north. It’s a beautiful and enchanting place. In the days of your father’s rule, it was prosperous and benevolent. Now though, Legacy is dying, its people restless. It has been my entire lifetime without a lord. We need the heir of Legacy.” He gently took Ami’s arms in his hands and stroked down them, his dark eyes hidden. “We need our princess.”
“I’m not her,” she whispered.
“Are you so sure?”
Ami nodded, whispering again, “It’s not me.”
In one fluid movement Hero stepped back and drew his sword, slashing through the air toward Ami’s neck.
Ami shrieked and closed her eyes.
Then there was silence, except the crackle of the fire and the sounds of the forest. When Ami realised she wasn’t dead, she opened her eyes.
Hero was on his knees, his face pained. A guttural noise came from him as her hand squeezed tight around his throat. She let go with a yelp and pulled away, yelping again when she found her other hand holding his sword.
“What the hell just happened?” She dropped the sword and stepped back against the tree, looking from the sword to her hand, then to Hero who was now getting to his feet.
“What I expected to happen, hoped to happen,” he croaked. “That you would defend yourself.”
“But I didn’t move!”
“You did,” he said. “In the split second that you knew you were in danger, you grabbed my wrist and released the sword. You swung it and disabled me by grabbing my throat, forcing me to my knees. It was…impressive to watch to say the least.” He smiled and picked up the sword.
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t know how. I didn’t…” She slid down the trunk, her back scratching on the bark, her eyes closing as she realised that she’d done exactly what he’d said she had. She saw each move in her mind, each action, fast and precise.
“You did, you can, you have, and you know. It is you, Princess Ami. You have powers inherited from your father, from your bloodline.” He took Ami’s hand, and pulled her to her feet. “You are the heir of Legacy.”
Noises sounded deep within the forest, but Ami ignored them. They were far away, distant and apart from her.
She thought instead to her childhood and how she’d always been told that she had spirit and imagination. As early as she could remember she’d made up stories b
ased around TV shows and films. She’d act them out like a play, her hands moving spaceships across the sky, her arms flailing at the big explosions. Few people understood her and would say, ‘Oh, Ami’s exploding again…’ leaving her to it. But as she’d grown up, she was able to explain that she’d had to play all the parts of the story herself, a one girl theatre production. From then on it was known that Ami was artistic. She’d been given paints and pencils, paper and card. Encouraged to draw and paint, Ami had taken to each task with excitement. As she let her imagination go, new worlds, scenes, characters and places had opened up to her; books inspired her, the written word sketched, painted, and drawn.
Dreams began to take shape of distant lands, places she could escape to and explore.
Was it possible that all her dreams were about this place, this land where unicorns roamed in forests? Had her father hidden a whole other life from her, a whole other world where she was a princess and he a lord?
It was quite a story—an adventure—if it were true.
“What does the vampire-man want?”
“He wants you.” Hero sheathed his sword and pulled Ami to her feet.
“Me? Why does he want me? What did I do?”
“It’s not about what you’ve done, but about who you are. He wants you because you are the heir. He wants you destroyed because he is the son of Graeme, and in his mind the rightful heir. He’s your half-brother.”
“My what?” Ami’s eyes widened. “My brother? And he wants to kill me?”
“Xavier will explain more,” he said, taking her by the hand. “It is now morning, and we should go to him.”
“This Xavier again…who is this Xavier?”
“That would be I,” a smooth voice said from the darkness, a white unicorn stepping into the firelight. “Hello, Ami, and welcome to the Solancra Forest.”
Chapter Three
The clearing seemed too small, or maybe it was only that the unicorn filled it so well, his white coat giving a luminous light that chased the shadows to the furthest corners, his crystal horn glowing a silver-white. He was the most beautiful creature Ami had ever seen, and in her thrall, she reached out to touch his muzzle.
“It’s good to meet you at last, Princess Ami.”
Ami drew her hand back as if she’d burned it. It spoke. The unicorn just spoke.
“Do not worry,” he said, “my appearance can seem overwhelming to humans. It’s quite normal.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back into Hero, who held her arm, steadying her.
The unicorn laughed. “You can touch me if you like.” But Ami didn’t dare, for now it seemed too personal a thing. She turned to Hero.
“Is this real?” she whispered.
“Oh yes, it’s very real,” Hero said, “and I think Xavier would like to talk with you alone.”
Ami turned back to the unicorn, who gave a single nod. “Walk with me.”
Hero let go of her arm and Ami stepped forward, humbled in the presence of the unicorn’s light. She wanted to believe—it would be so magical if it was all real. Leaves crunched beneath her feet—very real indeed—and Hero’s touch had been firm, the fire warm, and the darkness cold. She saw an adventure mapping out in front of her: she, a princess, her father a lord; a land, a city, a castle. She turned for one last look at Hero, standing with his back to the fire, and then to the unicorn, whose light paved their way into darkness.
*
Soon they’d left the clearing behind and rejoined the forest, the shadowy trees either side of them reaching into infinite darkness above. Ami caught glimpses of white beyond gnarled branches and heard the soft thudding of hooves—there were others, stalking them in the shadows.
“They are simply curious about you,” the unicorn said without turning. “It’s been many years since we’ve had human company and some of our herd have never met a human at all.”
Ami listened to the deep timbre of his voice, the soft breathing through his nose. She had a million questions, but couldn’t find her voice to ask a single one. Instead, her eyes had strayed to his horn which was lit like a beacon, crowning his head in an aura of light.
“We are walking to the edge of the forest, a place in the morning sun where you can take sustenance and we can talk, but let me start our conversation off by telling you a little of the history of this place.” His voice was soothing and Ami felt herself floating by his side. “I cannot tell you the beginnings of the world any more than you could. I can tell you that this forest and valley, named Solancra, has been home to my kind for as long as anyone can tell. We have lived and bred here, and some of us have died here. I am the eldest of the herd, and so have been named chief, or leader, or any such word that means a similar thing—I am the one that oversees the herd—but it is at the death of a unicorn I should really start.”
Ami walked with him between the trees, turning here and there, following a path unknown to her. In her mind she was seeing pictures, as if half remembered dreams, slipping between his words.
“A group of five humans found their way into Solancra. They were injured, desperate, and starving, but in our wariness we kept our distance. We didn’t know where they’d come from and had never seen such creatures before, but we tracked them and kept a watch on them. Soon they found fruit on the trees and settled in the forest to rest.
“One of our kind was foolish though and thought himself brave. He approached them and greeted them, but did not see the hidden danger.
“Whether through fear or desperation we never knew, but as humans are wont to do, they killed what they didn’t understand. They killed the young unicorn. The herd came running and chased the humans from the forest, but it was too late for our brother. He was dead, his horn taken. Perhaps it was to be a weapon? Perhaps a trophy? Either way, they found instead something that was far more valuable, as they came to realise.”
Ami saw it in her mind, all of it, through hazy pictures of bright yellows and greens. Her heart sank at the image of the dead unicorn, the missing horn; they’d all mourned the loss.
“Yes, we were very sad. But it is here I must talk about our most precious attribute. The horn of a unicorn. It is our pride, our protection, our weapon, our defence, our source of all knowledge and sight. To take a unicorn’s horn is to take his heart, his soul, but more than this, it is to take his power. The horn retains this even when broken.
“As we mourned, we searched with our power, and found the humans to be alive and prospering. They’d found early on that with the stolen horn in hand, things they needed would come to them. They froze the dividing river between Solancra and Planrus, crossing it with ease, and called up new trees from the earth to grow and bear fruit for their journey; water sprang from the earth at the simplest of commands, and all because of the power within the horn, the magic as they saw it. It was seductive and soon began to corrupt.
“In time they founded a homestead upon the peak of a high mountain in the Edorus range, and with power unlimited, built their houses, birthed their young. Their homestead became a settlement which flourished. It is not in our nature to hurt or seek revenge, and they never returned to our forests.”
Ami saw the peak of a mountain, three people standing upon it. Rocks were shorn, stones were placed, houses made; children ran through cobbled streets. A castle tower stood proud over all, and the settlement became a town, spiralling down the mountainside.
Her eyes flickered between the trees, watching as shafts of light broke through the branches, her mind far, far away.
“We kept our gaze upon that mountain and watched with interest as the centuries passed. A civilisation had blossomed, a structure of rule appointed, and the land thrived.”
She saw the lord sitting upon his golden throne, his family around him. She saw the people paying tribute, working, providing for their families, and living.
The pictures faded and the forest lit through a break in the trees.
“Here we arrive at the river, and here you may eat
and drink.” The unicorn led her under the low hanging branches and out into daylight.
*
The sound of the river burst through the silence, and Ami shaded her eyes from the glints of morning light thrown from the water as it flowed to the left, dropped, and continued on out of sight. Across the river was more forest that rose up an incline, forming the horizon against a clear blue sky.
On her side, the bank was grassy and short, enough room for only a handful of people, the trees closing on either side, breaching the river. There was a mixture of red and black berries littering the branches, the fruit full and ripe. She walked toward them, eyeing them mistrustfully before taking to the river’s edge instead. The water was clear, fast, and fresh.
The unicorn appeared at her side. “This is the crossing of Solancra,” he said, “and this is where our land, and our protection, ends. The forest across the way belongs to the Planrus Lands, and from then on your only protection shall be Hero and the knowledge I arm you with now. But first, please, drink from the water. It is pure. Eat the fruit.”
Ami got to her knees and looked down into the fast flowing waters, her reflection shattered and blurred. There were no fish that she saw, though the water was deep and wild, and could have held anything below its surface. She bowed onto her front, her hair trailing and drawing lines in the stream, and dipped her mouth to the water.
It was cold and delicious, and made her whole body tingle. She dipped in once more, taking down a few mouthfuls before sitting back up, wiping her face, and looking at the unicorn.
Xavier watched the opposing bank.
Watching you.
“Can you feel it too?” Ami asked, startling the unicorn.
“I can feel it, yes. It is Adam. He watches us, watches you. It’s all he can do right now, but yes, I can feel it. It feels like ice.”
Ami shuddered. She pulled up from the bank, and feeling her stomach roar, approached the fruit again. She took a berry from the nearest branch—a ripe red—and popped it into her mouth. The juices broke like an explosion on her tongue, the taste like nothing she’d ever tasted before. She ate a few more, savouring them.