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The sky bathed the woods in a milky half-light as the boys reached the fence at the end of the hollow, where the silvery horns of unicorns poked out from the thicket of trees. The dark-haired elven boy ran ahead, long braided hair wildly swinging behind him, and used his momentum to vault himself onto the top of the wooden frame, straddling both sides.
“Wait! Theremin!” His blond human companion called after him, skidding to a stop. Theremin stopped, turning his head back to his friend, and rolled his eyes.
“C’mon Nam, you can’t chicken out now! Look, they’re right there!”
Namulith hung back a couple of meters behind the fence, looking between the hollow behind him and his friend. Their fathers had made it crystal clear- the boys were not to explore the forest beyond the wooden barrier, and were absolutely forbidden from interfering with the unicorns ahead of the Ride. He bit the inside of his cheek, the harsh scolding he knew his father would rain upon him already ringing in his ears.
The two boys’ fathers had surprised them a few days before, and packed them and their sisters up, and taken a wagon out to the hollow where Theremin’s father had grown up, just in time for Midsummer Night. The community was mostly elven, and all of the homes in the surrounding area were built into dead trees or were a part of the treehouse canopy system connected by swinging bridges and rope ladders. Tonight’s festivities had been a spectacle; fireworks, an array of grilled meats for supper, and at midnight: The Wild Ride.
“You said we were just gonna watch the druids ride! My dad’s going to kill me if he catches us!” He hissed back.
Theremin gave him a judgmental, disapproving look.
“You don’t care about being caught- you’re still afraid of them, aren’t you?” He taunted.
“No I’m not!” Namulith refuted, but it was the truth. Even from this far back, he could see the outlines of those long, white muzzles, flashing hooves, and the sharp spires of their silvery horns. His mind raced picturing the two of them creeping up to the aloof, gangly creatures, only to startle them, and have no choice but to watch, frozen, as they scrambled in all directions, whinnying and screeching, dipping their heads before impaling them both.
He remembered what his mother had said, the day after the horse incident. She’d cleaned his wounds and then combed through his hair while he read through one of his father’s encyclopedias by candlelight. “The Scion of Bhaal fears nothing,” She’d whispered to him, reminding him of the secret they shared. “Fear is weakness,” The comb snagged on a knot, and she yanked it through in one quick motion, as if to accentuate her point. “And I am not raising a weak man.” He’d wanted to object, to tell her she was wrong- but decided to stay silent and agree with her instead.
“Ugh, fine, then stay there and keep watch- I’m gonna get on one!” Theremin swept his other leg over the fence and dropped on to the ground. Namulith balled his hand into a fist- he couldn’t possibly let his best friend class him as a coward, unicorns be damned, he wasn’t getting left out!
“No, I’m coming too!” In a far less graceful manner, he struggled up the fence, clutching to the wood so hard he felt the sharp pricks of splinters sink into his skin. He dropped onto the other side, and quickly caught up.
“That one’s lying down,” Theremin pointed, his voice low. “I’m gonna ride that one.”
“Why do they have to be unicorns?” Namulith asked.
Theremin shrugged. “I dunno, Mielikki picked them as her symbol. I’ve heard she makes them teleport!”
“Will it even let you on? You’re not a druid.”
The elven boy waved his hand dismissively.
“My dad used to be a druid,” He clasped his hands together in a dramatic gesture, and looked up to the sky. “And I am a true believer of the great Mistress of the Forest.”
It was Namulith’s turn to roll his eyes. The only thing Theremin believed for certain was that a monster lived under his bed.
“Just be careful,” He cautioned, and stood behind a tree as he watched his friend continue to approach the serene beast.
Theremin walked lightly over the grass, and Namulith was surprised by the lack of interest the other unicorns showed him, each minding their own business, whether that was grazing the grass or grooming each other. He managed to reach the creature on the ground, and jumped on to its back with a smack.
Namulith dug his nails into the bark of the tree. Oh gods, now they were done for. Instead, the unicorn opened its eyes and abruptly rose, eliciting a few fearful “whoa whoa”s from Theremin, who did his best to cling to its back. His hands clutched at the long, spider-silk strands of its mane, while his short legs hugged its flank, but its coat was so smooth, he struggled to get a grip. He slid further down, and then the unicorn tossed its head, shaking its body, and he slumped onto the forest floor.
Namulith hurried over, worry crossing his face.
“You okay?”
Theremin wiped his hands on his shirt as the unicorn he’d attempted to ride nickered, tossing its mane again, as though it were laughing at him. He sat up, grinning.
“That was awesome.”