How the unicorn got her name

She was born, deep in the Greenwood, as the moon eclipsed the sun.

It was unusual for a Unicorn to be born in the daytime, for they were shy creatures and darkness made it easier for them to hide. But this was hardly daylight, for what luminescence remained as the sun was eclipsed, flowed like waves over the white coats of the herd who had gathered there for the birth. It was a great event and they were all excited. This was the first foal to be born among them for at least four hundred earth years.

Time is different for Unicorns, for they belong to two worlds. Our world, where time is important, and the Otherworld of Earthspace, the Land of Faerie, where time hardly matters at all.

The inhabitants of this world are immortals, which means they cannot die, and what is special about the place, is that they took their forms from those pictures in human imagination. They had simple spirits existing in the marvellous expanding universe but when earth came into their space they gained a new consciousness and sense of wonder about all Creation. Through the wonder, came the Magick.

Magick, was transformation. A torquandrous entity that governed the passage of nothingness into essence and substance. It was both magnet and mirror, drawing to itself the images, the sounds, the smells and touches of the newly created Earth and forming them inside Earthspace. Even the thoughts of the earth creatures could take shape inside this 'sort of a place' so that any child might recognise it likenesses of their own world.

So it was, that because mankind convinced itself that one-horned creatures had special powers, that those spirits of Earthspace who were most suited to become them, became them. These were the first Unicorns.

They came through the passageways and portals between the two worlds because men needed them and all they symbolised. Magick enrobed them in flesh and they took on many forms. Some were goat-like creatures, some like rhinos, others horses. Some were so fierce and terrible in aspect that they could survive in the very harshest places of their new world, but they were still shy and only approached those creatures who looked for guidance in their lives. They lingered in the shadows between dream and reality for there they could best see the brightness of the body's soul.

For the Unicorn Herd themselves, this birth had long been a dream they had wished into reality. They had felt the need for a new Unicorn for a while now but the Magick had seemed reluctant to oblige. So many of the old ones had become tired of their life on earth and passing through the Portal for the last time, had wandered off into the far reaches of Earthspace, letting go the bodies that enrobed them. They could still be seen sometimes, but far off, for when the blue halo of the moon opened the cloud gate between earth and sky, there they would be, weightless and free, sending their mind and loving to the Herd. They had deserved their happiness and tranquillity. No need to disturb them there and call them away back to the rigors of Earth life to be re-clothed, for the world was always in crisis. Disaster and opportunity walked hoof by hoof there. In their own telepathic language the Unicorns called Earth, 'Place of the Divine Quest', for when they were called to there as guides and mentors, it was as if their coming was sanctioned by that very love that both ordained and overruled the Magick.

For many full moons, the Unicorns had come together to sing and dance, to graze and join together in intimacy. It had seemed odd even to the young Unicorns that no more babies had come to the Herd but finally, the smallest and most unassuming of their number, a mare called Nahjine, found she was in foal.

'My foal is for the Earthworld, not for me,' Nahjine told the Herd. 'She will be half mortal and for much of her life she will be separated from us.' Her voice was mixed with pride with sadness. Not one questioned how she knew, for she often made prophecies that came to pass.

The moment of birth came as the eclipsed sun re-emerged from behind the moon. There was a huge sunburst of light. The longed-for gift of new life came to them. The foal made her entry into the world.

She lay on the ground blinking in the strange brilliance that was now growing ever stronger while her mother licked her with a tongue like silk. Love and Magick were everywhere and as the Herd formed themselves into a circle about her, the foal felt herself drawn into their mind. All its history and much of their 'knowing', simply settled with her telepathically with its language and stories and songs.

 

In the days that followed, Nahjine, waited quietly with her foal until the Magick saw fit to send a name. She was near the place of the birth, at the edge of a clearing where the Otherworlders sometimes made their passage through gate they called the Oak Portal.

If they wished it, this Portal would cover them in real flesh and clothing so they could experience the 'feel' of Earthlife. This was a source of great fascination but the weight of a body could become hard to endure. At that point, they could hardly wait to regain their weightless forms again, scattering their substance so that they seemed to disappear.

These 'spirits of Earthspace,' humans call by various names. Most commonly Faeries or Elves. Sometimes they kept Nahjine and the young foal company, for the 'waiting' for the gift of a name, was a special time. Incarnation Magick engendered feelings of deep reverence for a power beyond them all. The birthplace remained full of good feeling and each Unicorn mother would hope they could stay there and not have to run from predators before the name came.

Naming was special to Unicorns, for each name characterised the special abilities of the creature who was given it. Names were a gift from the first language of Earthspace - 'Old Magick'. It was Old Magick that had given them the Unicorns power to speak their telepathic thoughts out loud and in almost any language. Sometimes, a name blew in upon the wind or came from the mouth of a bird, or formed inside the tune of a new song, for Unicorns were always singing.

So it was that Nahjine waited for the name of her foal. It was the third day and still the name had not come. Unusual. The foal was restless in her expectation and kept darting about, unable to contain her excitement.

They were grazing by a clear pool when Nahjine suddenly started. She had heard the sound of a horn and the baying of dogs. A hunt was on and her Faerie companions whispered through the trees that the victim was a human child.

Men were the worst predators.

Mother and foal trotted quickly away through the trees, Nahjine knowing she must first take her infant to the safety of the Portal. Few humans knew of its existence and most could not enter there. The young one would be safe.

The Herd members had wandered off to graze in other parts of the forest, some way off. Though they knew from her thoughts what was happening, Nahjine also knew that she must be the one to help, for she was closest. These hunters were not seeking food, (although they might taste the blood of the child in the end), their goal was murder; the simple, disgusting, pleasure of it. They had a madness upon them and egged each other on. The 'knowing' of this came to her in nauseating waves for she could read the mind of the evil they had created together. Human evil. The worst of all destructive cruelty. An entity that Old Magick had called 'The Maugrah.' Harm was hidden in its name. It was unspeakable, for even naming it gave it power!

She knew what she must do. Find the child and bring her to the Oak Portal. The protective Magick inside it would reach out and make her invisible. There was no time to lose and she galloped through the trees, homing in on the dark cloud of Maugrah fear energy that was writhing in horrid tentacles around the tiny victim.

The foremost hunter had ridden well ahead of the others, even of the dogs, through treacherous terrain. He was almost upon the little two-leg who was running barefoot beneath the spiky passages that led across the forest floor. Her thick, dark curls and chubby arms were snagged by the briars across her path, but these were friends. It was only their sharp thorns that had saved her from capture already. She was the height of a small deer only and she had often followed the wild creatures through these sharp tunnels in the hope of finding the magick kingdom.

The girl had reached a dried up stream bed and the mare saw that the hunter was about to lean down and catch her up. The youngster had caught her foot and had fallen as she tried to flee. At that moment, Nahjine whinnied and spoke in the mind of the man's stallion. It slid obediently to a halt almost making him fall off. He cursed and whipped it brutishly, until he saw that facing him was a Unicorn. The ultimate prize. He had not known they truly existed, believing that talk of them had been ignorant peasants' tales. His mouth slavered like a dog's. The horn alone, a real Alicorn, would be worth a fortune and he had read in an ancient parchment that Unicorn meat tasted exceptionally sweet.

The girl remained on the ground. She was exhausted, but with a will to live, she took a stone and hurled it at the man. He wore no helmet and the stone found its mark, for Nahjine added a little of her own magick to its trajectory. It surprised her a little when she found what she had done, for the man cried out and held his head in his hands, cursing. The child now raised herself and jumping upon a fallen oak, climbed on to Nahjine's back.

With the child clinging to her soft white mane, the mare turned and began to canter away through the forest. She was afraid to go too fast in case the child fell off, for she had no gift of holding magick to keep her there.

Behind her she could hear the hunter blowing furiously on his horn and the baying of the dogs. He had obviously recovered and now the pounding hooves of the Maugrah Bloodguild came ever closer. She had reached the other side of a clearing almost to the oak when the arrow struck. Deep into her shoulder it found its mark. She stumbled and the girl lost her grip and slid to the ground.

Resolutely, Nahjine turned to face the murderers, lowering her precious Alicorn that must now serve her as a weapon. They began to advance towards her and she knew that she would have to kill the men if she were to kill the evil they had conjured between them and save the girl. She would fight to the last breath and before they hacked her earth body to death, she would take many of their lives with her. If the Magick permitted, she would be enrobed in flesh again If it did not, she would never come back to the world to see her foal grow up, but that was the way of nature sometimes and she accepted it.

The next moment, however, her heart sank. She felt a sudden and intense grief but one mingled with strange pride, as she saw her foal moving out of the safety of the shadows into the clearing. The tiny infant was snorting and stamping angrily at the hunters, no fear in her eyes. She could not hope to fight at such a young age and she would be certainly be killed. She had been born of flesh within the daylight world and she hadn't even received her name. This foal who had been born to serve Earth in a very special way, might at this terrible moment, be separated from the Herd forever. Then it was that the wyst-sorrow came upon Nahjine. The terrible spiritual anguish that immortals must learn to live with for ever and ever and ever.

The men had begun to laugh at the foal and Nahjine braced herself for the inevitable outcome, for there were too many of them for her to fight at once. Then something happened that gave her hope.

The little Unicorn had fixed her gaze upon a strange bird that sat upon the wrist of one of the hunters. It was the first time she had ever set eyes upon men but this large, feathered 'sharp-eye' was infinitely more fascinating. Round its feet, for that is what she supposed the strange, gnarled pointy things were, were long brown strings and upon one of them was a tiny round object that jingled when the sharp-eye moved. It was just a tiny vibration but it made the end of her Alicorn tingle and itch.

She began to revolve her head, making a circle in the air with the tiny horn that had sprouted from her forehead only the day before. It was still covered with down, except for a tiny, pearly spike at the top. As she continued circling her head, the vibrations from the little bell got louder and stronger and the girl who was cowering by Nahjine's side immediately put her hands over her ears and whimpered.

The hunters did not realise what was happening at first but then the sound struck them. By this time it was reverberating from the metal of their weapons, paralysing their arms and bodies and stiffening their muscles in repeated spasms of pain.

Nahjine felt no pain though. The sound seemed to give her strength and she managed to struggle back on to her feet, the arrow still hanging down from her side where the wound dripped purple blood.

As if someone had called her, the girl ran towards the Portal and disappeared inside. Nahjine knew that this meant only one thing. The child had Faerie ancestry or was perhaps half human, half spirit; a changeling.

Now the mare moved towards her foal, urging her to back away into the trees. Soon she would have to stand again between her young one and the hunters, for the vibrations of the bell were now diminishing; the little Unicorn was growing tired. It could only be a matter of seconds before whatever Magick was finding its way through her, ran out. and they would be struck down.

Then they heard it. Hunters and quarry alike. A sound like a screeching wind in the trees. There were no hoofbeats, for Unicorns rarely make a sound, but somehow the men understood that it was a stampede. They turned and fled but too late, aware only of white flashes and pain as sharp horns drove into their cowardly retreating flesh, breaking backs, puncturing kidneys and hearts. Those who were meant to live better lives rode away in shock and blessed forgetfulness into their towns and villages. Others, staggered into the forest settlements where they were recognised for the villains they were and finished off.

Of the rest, their horses returned whence they had come, and such was the rolling of their eyes no-one ventured out to look for their riders. Something supernatural had obviously taken place.

As far as they were concerned, the townspeople and gatekeepers thought it was good riddance, for the commoners had been victims of the evil for a long time.

Those people of changeling descent, knew in their hearts that the land had been made safe from the malefactors. For a while at least.

 

It had been a great victory for the Herd but they felt no triumph. Fierce when threatened, Unicorns are gentle creatures at heart and hold all life to be sacred and God-given. They had come into the world out of the Land of Earthspace to help mankind. If a person of honest intent sought them out, they would always assist them; give them a Quest if they wished it. But these men had no remorse. They had the spite of the Maugrah harnessed within them and had laid all compassion aside. They had forsworn themselves in their madness to its great harm. It had been their choice to perpetrate wickedness for pleasure and the Herd had dealt death to them. The Herd could only grieve for souls so wasted. Thus gloom descended on them all.

The little Unicorn was sad too, for still, she had not received her name.

Nahjine began to recover from her injury and Amval and Aelanje, the Herd Father and Mother, decided there should be a celebration to raise their spirits.

The large gibbous moon shone brightly in the clearing where sheets of rain had washed away the blood. The grassy lawn was full of creatures from the Faerie world for the Portal stood open and they could freely come and go, enrobed or in spirit form as they chose.

The little changeling girl whose name was Elinore, also came through the Portal. She had been re-united with her father who had been driven away from her village some time before by the wrath of men who prized their women as if they were cattle. They no longer welcomed Otherworlders. They were jealous of them, for their spirits were bright and full of love and joy and the women preferred their company. The 'heroes' of the meadhalls and ale meets, with their drunken, brawling, bragging ways, were no match for the subtle power and gentleness of these Elvish Lords. Most of all, men hated them for their freedom to live in the world as they chose, for in that time, Men lorded it over their fellow humans even more than they do now.

'There will be a special guest at our party later on,' Nahjine told her foal. You must not be afraid of him as you would of the wild beasts, for he eats nothing but the brightness of the day and he is the Soulmate of Our Lady Earth.

The foal longed to see this mysterious guest. She looked among the Faerie people whose skin glowed pale green in the moonlight but knew he was not there.

Even the earth creatures, foxes, badgers, rabbits, owls and mice, weasels and nightingales, mingled together in the clearing as if the thought of food was farthest from their minds. The guest did not seem to be among them or among the many other beings there who looked like half men, half animals. Some of these made unearthly music on pipes and lyres and harp and an extraordinarily wonderful cacophony of sounds filled the woodland. The foal listened and studied them hard. Perhaps the special guest was one of these?

But there was no-one and the foal sighed for she was desperate to have a name before the honoured guest arrived. The younger Unicorns came up and nuzzled her to comfort her. She was aware some of them wished they had as much Magick as she did but she knew they felt proud too because she had brought honour to the whole Herd.

'Patience little one,' whinnied Aramishay, the son of Amval and Aelanje. 'Your name will come soon, I am sure,' and so it did, for as the music ended, Elinore's father, Orvan, stepped forward and began to sing a ballad about how Nahjine and her foal had saved his child. He had brought the dead hunter's hawk, Reehel, with him, for that was the name he had given the sharp-eye. As he sang, Elinore undid the thin leather strap with the bell on it that restrained the bird's feet and the creature flew into the air, free to go wheresoever it would. Choosing to stay among the woodland spirits, it circled and then settled on a tree branch to watch and listen.

 

This was the song that Orvan the songweaver, Father of Elinore, the changeling, composed in the way men spoke at that time, to enshrine the Unicorns' heroic deed.

 

Twas by the speare Elinore's mother died.

In wretched state, hir orphan ran to hide.

The evill armèd men poursewd

Seeking hir life with brandished sword.

Into the Grenewode she did run

With the sky blode red from the setting sun.

Though bush and briar hir flesh did teare,

No pain she felt but only feare.

 

And then a champioun unto hir rescue came,

A fierce Unicorne that only maid may tame.

With stamping hoof and lowered horne

She showed this cruelle knight hir scorne.

 

Worthless his honour, murdrous in his pride,

He shot an arrow straight into hir side.

With courage true and grete chivalry

She urged the changeling from hir side to flee.

As houndes and hunters filled the forest glade

With sadness was she suddenly dismay'd.

For fearless, from the forest deep and wild,

There came the infant Unicorn, hir child

To join hir Mother in the deadly game,

Before Olde Magick had yet sent hir name.

 

This foal who scarce three days could walk

Espied upon a hunter's wrist, a hawk,

Jingling a tiny bell around its claw

Which by some noysome magick that she bore,

Grew to a sound that held them all in thrall,

Deafening in power like a mighty waterfall.

It wreaked upon them such a deadly vise

Of rigid agony and pain that binds and ties.

 

But soone hir infant strength began to wane

And evil threatened to grow strong again.

But now the leaves some hideous whistling stirred

With piercing warcries of an angry Herd.

It was a sounde that filled their hearts with drede

And mounting quickly, they reigned their steeds and fled.

 

These knights of shame now felt the stab and styng

That comes to those who court a reckonyng.

And mony that day their chosen path bewailed

As through their flesh the evil was impaled.

 

In honour let this tale be ever told

Of brave Nahjine, who even lately foaled

And wounded by an arrows flight full sore,

Stood to defend th'innocent Elinore,

And of her infant who hath yet no name

Who safety left and to the rescue came.

This beauteous foal who through the evil saw

The wonder even, in a fierce hawk's claw

And conjuring hope within a sounding spell

Wrought the Magick of a Jessie's bell.
Twas by the speare Elinore's mother died.

In wretched state, hir orphan ran to hide.

The evill armèd men poursewd

Seeking hir life with brandished sword.

Into the Grenewode she did run

With the sky blode red from the setting sun.

Though bush and briar hir flesh did teare,

No pain she felt but only feare.

 

And then a champioun unto hir rescue came,

A fierce Unicorne that only maid may tame.

With stamping hoof and lowered horne

She showed this cruelle knight hir scorne.

 

Worthless his honour, murdrous in his pride,

He shot an arrow straight into hir side.

With courage true and grete chivalry

She urged the changeling from hir side to flee.

As houndes and hunters filled the forest glade

With sadness was she suddenly dismay'd.

For fearless, from the forest deep and wild,

There came the infant Unicorn, hir child

To join hir Mother in the deadly game,

Before Olde Magick had yet sent hir name.

 

This foal who scarce three days could walk

Espied upon a hunter's wrist, a hawk,

Jingling a tiny bell around its claw

Which by some noysome magick that she bore,

Grew to a sound that held them all in thrall,

Deafening in power like a mighty waterfall.

It wreaked upon them such a deadly vise

Of rigid agony and pain that binds and ties.

 

But soone hir infant strength began to wane

And evil threatened to grow strong again.

But now the leaves some hideous whistling stirred

With piercing warcries of an angry Herd.

It was a sounde that filled their hearts with drede

And mounting quickly, they reigned their steeds and fled.

 

These knights of shame now felt the stab and styng

That comes to those who court a reckonyng.

And mony that day their chosen path bewailed

As through their flesh the evil was impaled.

 

In honour let this tale be ever told

Of brave Nahjine, who even lately foaled

And wounded by an arrows flight full sore,

Stood to defend th'innocent Elinore,

And of her infant who hath yet no name

Who safety left and to the rescue came.

This beauteous foal who through the evil saw

The wonder even, in a fierce hawk's claw

And conjuring hope within a sounding spell

Wrought the Magick of a Jessie's bell.

 

At the end of the song, Elinore, who had cried sorrowfully for many days, began to hop about and clap her hands and ring the tiny bell. It made a tiny tinkling sound that seemed to excite the other Unicorns. They responded with a kind of rippling music that came from their Alicorns.

The foal trotted over to look more closely at this strange object that had somehow saved them from certain death. 'It's a little bell,' Elinore told her and these leather strings are called the jessies. She knelt down and tied the bell round the foal's tiny horn. There you are! Jessiebell.'

All at once, the Herd began a kind of horsey mumbling amongst themselves.

'We are agreed then,' said Amval stepping forward.

'Agreed,' replied Aelanje. 'The foal has earned her name with honour. A name from the world of men and its ending also means beautiful. A most suitable name. The Magick chose to work through her against the evil. Henceforward, Nahjine's foal shall be known as Jessiebelle.

It was a pretty name and Jessiebelle pranced and bucked and ran to her mother. 'Mare they have given me a name.'

'And a most beautiful name too, my Jessiebelle,' Nahjine whispered. She nuzzled her daughter happily. She was amazed and pleased that it was she who had been chosen to bear this wonderful new foal for the Herd.

 

the end