The Red Unicorn

Two young boys ran in from the cold, the elder chasing the younger, anger on his lips. “I’m the eldest! I must come first!”

The younger, Anatoly, just laughed, thinking it all part of a grand game. Katya, the mother, catching the look in the elder’s eye, sighed and herded the boys near the fireplace.

“What is all this, Aleksei? Your face is wild.” Katya smoothed her hand over his wayward dark hair and down his ruddy cheek.

Aleksei, a boy the great age of ten, pushed his mother’s hand away and moved to stare into the flames. Unshed tears made his dark blue eyes shimmer like moonlight reflected off the Black Sea. “It isn’t fair.” He muttered, frustration showing in the clench of jaw and fists. “It just isn’t fair. Always, he wins. Why?”

“What is wrong, bratok?” Anatoly, the younger by three years, asked, the excitement of the race and the snow still lighting his face.

Aleksei dashed a fist across his eyes, punishing them for showing such weakness, and glared down at Anatoly. “I am the eldest. If you win, it is only because I allow it.”

Anatoly laughed and wrapped his arms around Aleksei, standing near the fire. “Of course I know this. You make me happy, bratok.”

A look of disgust and fury crossed Aleksei’s flushed face a moment before he shoved his brother away from him, seeming not to care in which direction he fell. Their mother made a mad grab, pulling Anatoly back toward her before he could fall into the fire.

“Aleksei! You must be careful!” Katya watched her eldest shudder back a sob, knowing this was about much more than one race, she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Come,” her voice calm and soothing, “I will tell you both a story.”

Anatoly hugged his mother and jumped up and down in excitement. “I love your stories, Mama! What shall we hear? Vladyk and the Three Wishes? Anastasia of the Sea? Oh, please let’s hear Anatoly the Wise. That is my favorite.”

“No!” Aleksei slashed his hand down in front of his body. “I will not hear one more word about Anatoly the Wise.” He twisted his shoulders in an effort to escape, his body tense and sweating.

If not for Katya’s strong grip on his shoulder, he might have made good his escape, but she held him firm and directed him to the sofa. “No, deti, my little ones, a new story. Come, sit. Snuggle close to your mother who loves you.” She sat with one son at each side, her arms holding them to her chest.

With a kiss to the top of each head, Katya sighed. “This story is called The Red Unicorn.” She gave her sons a quick squeeze. “And I will not be interrupted.”

Anatoly nestled his head against her breast, his small hand resting on her lap. “I will not interrupt, but please wake me if I fall asleep.”

Katya chuckled softly and nodded with another quick kiss to Anatoly’s golden curls. She caressed Aleksei’s shoulder and arm, worried at his stiffness, and began her tale.

“Long ago, deep in the Kovalevsky Forest, a tsardom of unicorns thrived. They were beautiful. Their coats were a brilliant, luminescent white; their horns spiraling pearls. However, their beauty did not come from their coats or horns but from their pure, golden hearts. Their kindness pumped through them with each heartbeat. Their wisdom and innocence shone in their regal silver eyes.

“The Tsar and Tsaritsa were blessed with two sons, Agripin, the eldest, and Afanasii, the younger. They were the delight of the tsardom and unicorns from far and wide would come to pay tribute to the future Tsar and his Horn Bearer. For that was the way of their tsardom, the younger brother held the position to protect the land and Tsar. It had been many years since any Horn Bearer had needed to know how to protect, however; such was the long reign of peace they’d enjoyed.

“The brothers would race across the snowy fields, ice flurries whipping into tapestries streaming behind them. Soon Afanasii began to outrun his older brother, his delight in the wind and speed causing his heart to be ever lighter. At first Agripin laughed and cheered his brother on, but when he found he could not catch him, he felt a strange weight develop in his chest.

“Over the next few months it became clear that Afanasii’s spirit and skills far outstripped his brother’s. Agripin began to snap at Afanasii’s lighthearted teasing and one day his brilliant white coat flashed a brief pink. The Tsar, Tsaritsa, and all the court shared a gasp, for never had they seen a coat other than pure white. The Tsar worried on the portents of the flash of color, but put it out of his mind when it did not return in the days following.

“Agripin wandered out in the fields alone, not finding the delight he used to at the sight of the sparkling hills of snow. The only thing in his thoughts was his brother and how he, Agripin, should be the one leading, not a younger brother.”

Katya stroked along Aleksei’s still stiff shoulders, and he gave her a narrowed eyed stare.

“He could not turn his mind from the heavy thoughts to bask in the beauty of his home,” Katya continued, “and so his gait became sluggish and his coat dull. He retreated to his rooms and, embarrassed by what he saw in the looking glass, refused to let anyone into his chambers.

“Afanasii came each day with a joke or an invitation to some merriment he’d thought of for his brother, but was each day rebuffed with a sharp word through Agripin’s thick marble doors. Afanasii worried with his mother and father at what curse had befallen Agripin, and over time their worry began to affect the entire tsardom.

“Nearly at his wit’s end, the Tsar approached the door, demanding his son to show himself. He’d brought a doctor, a mage, and an oracle. ‘Surely one of these will cure you, my son. Please open the door.’

“A fierce cry sounded behind the thick marble that sent a chill to the Tsar’s pure heart. He felt such a heaviness in that sound that he staggered and nearly fell to his knees. The doors flew open with a great gust of wind, Agripin finally emerging after a month of marinating in his frustrations, confusion, and battles with his hopelessness.

‘Cure me? Cure me? Do I look like I need curing, Father? Am I not good enough, even now? Will you say I am not your son?’ The force of Agripin’s words and passion of his voice at first made it hard for his father to look at him, but when the Tsar raised his eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Instead of his son’s brilliant white coat, shimmering iridescent mane, and pearlescent horn, he saw a great beast with a blood red coat, a mane and eyes as dark and fathomless as a starless night, and a great, jagged obsidian horn. The Tsar shook his head, unable to comprehend the changes to his son’s appearance. ‘Agripin? What has become of you? Hurry, Doctor, Mage, Oracle, any of you, all of you! Help my son!’

“The unicorns that the Tsar had gathered approached Agripin hesitantly, as they knew not what to do. The mage began a spell, but Agripin stomped a heavy hoof. ‘I do not need saving, Father. There is more to this existence than lightness and joy, and while my heart feels a solid rock in my chest, I have substance. I will find a purpose for this new form. I will not be second to my younger brother.’

“With those parting words, Agripin dashed out of the castle, leaving a scorched path behind him. He ignored the calls from his father, his mother, and most especially his brother. The road up the mountain out of the tsardom twisted and curled back on itself like a winding river, but eventually Agripin crested the rise that was the boundary of their land.

“He’d never been this far from the castle and a bit of the old lightness tried to work its way into his heart, such was his anticipation of the journey ahead. When he realized the feeling, he felt confused, unsure if he should let it take root, not wanting to lose the substance he’d gained.

“Flexing his muscles, he discovered the excitement of adventure hadn’t diminished his strength as he’d feared. He laughed out and stood tall on his hind legs, reaching to the sky and feeling freer than he had in any part of his father’s tsardom.

“Agripin ran through the day and on into the setting sun when he came upon a small village. The sun had gone down, and he could see a great bonfire in the town square. Although there was plenty of light for work to continue, the citizens of the village seemed to be in their homes for an early evening meal.

“Agripin wandered up and down the streets, marveling at the differences between this village and his home. As he approached the town square, he realized the bonfire was not flames at all, but a lonely firebird in a wrought iron cage easily large enough to have contained Agripin himself. This village must be inhabited by humans, he thought. For what other creatures would use thick iron to keep such a splendid treasure prisoner?

“Nearly half Agripin’s size, the bird shimmered red, gold, yellow, and orange, and gave off a wondrous warm light. Agripin felt comforted by it though he hadn’t known he was in need of comfort. He stepped closer, drawn like a moth to this living flame. The bird’s tail feathers fanned out behind it in a crackling half circle with what looked like flaming eyes amidst the plumage, peering at Agripin.

“When Agripin approached the cage, the firebird gave a short chirp and shook its tail feathers twice to signal a conversation. Agripin walked up close and chuffed a hello.

‘Oh, please, please, sir. You look strong and courageous. I have been trapped in this cage for months. Could you, do you think, could you, please break my lock? I would like to go home.’ The firebird made a soft, imploring peep.

“No one had ever asked Agripin to do something so important and he was filled with pride that such a beautiful creature would ask for his help. He nodded and shook his mane; it billowed out around him like a plume of black smoke. ‘Stand to the other side, beautiful bird. I would not like you to be hurt while I try.’

“The bird perched as far from the lock as she could get while Agripin reared up and batted the lock with his front hooves. Many noisy minutes passed, and just when he was about to give up, the lock shattered. Unfortunately, the racket they had made had drawn the villagers out of their homes with angry faces and pitch forks. They shouted at Agripin for setting their prize free, threatening to lock him up in return.

‘Hurry, my friend, we must escape this town. I am weak from my captivity; could I cling to your mane as you run?’

“Agripin was about to tell the firebird that he was heavy and slow, but seeing the villagers approaching, violence in their step, he merely nodded and set off as fast as he could go while the firebird clutched and pulled at his hair with beak and feet.

“Once they were out of the village, the firebird released his mane and took a couple of experimental flaps of her wings. ‘You were quite swift. Many thanks to you.’

‘My brother is much swifter than I. I am glad we were able to escape them. I would hate to think of you being caged again.’

‘Your brother may be swifter, but I cannot imagine he is braver or kinder. I must return home, my family will be missing me.’ The firebird plucked one of her beautiful glowing tail feathers and tucked it into Agripin’s mane. ‘For your kindness,’ the firebird chirped. ‘This will lead you out of the darkness and warm your heart as you have warmed mine.’ With that, the firebird rose into the sky, like a falling star being reclaimed by the heavens, and made her way home.

“Agripin watched the glow of her flight until she was out of his sight. Eager for his next adventure, he set off further down the road. He only thought of his family once.

“As the rays of the sun broke over the distant hills, Agripin slowed his gait to a walk. He couldn’t believe he’d been able to continue on throughout the entire night. He felt strong, though he thought he should take a rest. He found a large willow tree next to a lake and made his way under branches that swept the ground and into the small clearing around the base. He had just settled himself down on his knees when he heard someone muttering to themselves.

‘Oh, how will I get back? How will I return? I am too light; I do not sink.’

“The voice sounded so sad and troubled that Agripin got back to his feet and walked to the other side of the willow. ‘I beg your pardon, but I couldn’t help overhearing. You seem upset. May I help you?’

“A small girl of eight looked up with wonder. ‘Oh, yes, yes, I am quite upset. I came up out of the water to get a better look at this tree, but when I tried to get back to Kitezh, I only floated on the top of the water.’

“Agripin had heard of the invisible city at the bottom of the lake, the legendary city of beautiful people with gracious hearts. He was delighted to meet someone who had lived their entire life underwater. ‘My name is Agripin and I will help you. What shall we do?’

‘Pleased to meet you, my name is Coralline’, for she was a very polite young lady. ‘I fear I do not know. I need something to make me heavy so I will sink.’

‘I am heavy, why don’t I carry you down? I must say I would like to see your city.’

‘Do you think it will work?’ Coralline asked hopefully.

‘We have only to try.’

“The girl climbed onto Agripin’s back and he made his way to the lake. ‘I’ve never spent much time underwater; the lakes in my land are not as deep as this.’

‘If you can take me half way, I think that will be far enough for my family to pull me home. They must be worried about me.’

“Agripin charged into the lake, his big body splashing the water all around. Soon he was completely submerged and he felt his first moment of panic as he sunk. How was he to breathe? How was he to return? Why had he not thought of these before plunging into the water? The girl drew a bubble from her pocket and placed it over his nose. She giggled and he watched the air bubbling to the surface from her mouth. She did not seem frightened and so he told himself that he wouldn’t be either.

“With his great weight, it didn’t take long for them to reach the bottom of the lake. Her mother, father and sister ran out to help her down from his back and hugged her close saying over and over how much they had missed her. The citizens of Kitezh invited Agripin to stay for dinner, to celebrate their princess’ return, for Coralline was their beloved eldest tsarevna.”

“Could we go to Kitezh, Mama? I want to the beautiful people too!” Anatoly asked with excitement.

Katya heard Aleksei’s ‘hmph’ and smiled, hugging both her sons tightly before continuing with her story. “Agripin accepted the invitation and followed the citizens through the city gates of coral and pearls. He marveled at all the different sea creatures flitting between the cliffs and arches of rock and sponge. The feast was more exotic than Agripin could have imagined and he dined on plants and crustaceans unlike any found in his father’s land. Fevroniya, Coralline’s mother, asked him about his home.

“Agripin told about its beauty and then about his departure and the pain in his heart, so calm and accepting were the rulers of Kitezh he felt he could unburden himself to them. As he talked he began to remember all that he loved in his tsardom. He told himself he didn’t feel sad, he didn’t miss his family, but he knew it was a lie. He thought it might be time for him to go home and talk to his father. Afanasii would love to hear of his adventures, and he knew his mother would like the firebird feather.

“Fevroniya patted his cheek and stroked his horn. ‘I see in you a great strength and the ability to protect all that you love. I know that feeling as I protected my home with all I had when we were threatened. Discovering you are different from your family should not fill you with pain. You will find that there will come a time where what needs to be done can be done by you alone.’

“Agripin’s new friends led him back to the entrance of the city and surrounded him with so many bubbles that he was able to float to the surface of the lake with ease. He climbed out, shook himself off, careful not to dislodge the feather, and set off up the road to home.

“The next day, as he was approaching the rise that marked the boundary of his tsardom, he noticed a large group of centaurs ahead of him. Staying hidden behind the trees that lined the road, he neared the rear of the group to listen to what the centaurs were saying.

‘They have kept their riches for themselves for too long. As cousins, our tribes should have them as well.’

‘Surely it will be easy to take what they have. They do not know violence; they will not fight.’

“At first he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why would anyone want to attack his father’s land? What is this treasure they were speaking about? Agripin’s leaden heart pounded furiously. He must warn his family. He raced ahead of the centaurs and straight to his father’s Horn Bearer with his news. This was the first time their tsardom had ever been attacked and so, having been shielded from violence all their lives, the Horn Bearer’s Unicorns did not know how to fight.

“Hearing that Agripin had returned, the Tsar, Tsaritsa and Afanasii rushed to welcome him home, unaware of the danger closing in on them. Agripin saw their surprise that his appearance had not reverted, but they did not shy away from him. He interrupted their joyous welcomes with the grave news.

‘I do not know why, but there is a large group of centaurs heading into the city with greed and malice in their speech.’

“The unicorns that had gathered looked at Agripin in confusion, not understanding what his words could mean. Soon there came news of unicorns at the borders being slain by the centaurs. The Tsar looked to his Horn Bearer. ‘What shall we do brother? Why do they hurt us?’

“The Horn Bearer could only shake his head. ‘I am sorry, my Tsar. I do not know.’

“Agripin looked around at the faces of his family and loved ones, at their fear and worry and confusion. He wanted to spare them these things they did not understand. Walking over to his mother, he shook his mane and drew her attention to the feather he’d kept safe.

‘Mother, please. Take this feather and lead everyone you can find to the cavern beneath the fountain at the center of town. This feather will light your way and calm your hearts.’ The Tsaritsa nodded solemnly, took the feather between her lips, and rode through their city; her attendants calling all to follow her.

“Agripin addressed the males who had stayed behind. ‘The rest of us need to ride out to meet the centaurs.’ Though unsure what lay ahead, they followed and soon arrived at the battlefield. The centaurs were ruthless in cutting down the childlike unicorns. Agripin finally understood the purpose of his jagged horn and began to fight back. He took no joy in the battle, but he was comforted to know that he was protecting his land and subjects.

“The unicorns were horrified by what they were seeing and most were frozen in place. A few, after seeing how easily their friends and families were slaughtered, and knowing the centaurs wouldn’t stop until they were completely destroyed if they did nothing, gathered around Agripin. Their coats took on a pinkish hue and a jaggedness came to their horns as they fought to protect all they loved.

“Once the battle was over and the centaurs were driven out of their lands, the unicorns gathered under the fountain around the fallen body of the Tsar to witness his last words. Agripin knelt to his father’s left; Afanasii and their mother to the Tsar’s right. ‘Agripin, my son, you have saved us. I do not claim to understand the changes in you, but you are my son and will lead this land well when I have gone.’

‘No, Father. I know now my place is as Horn Bearer. I must protect the innocence and spirit of my brothers. I will take my leaden heart and heaviness and stand as a wall between us and any who would come against us. I am sorry I felt so bitter, but I understand now that this is my path. And it pleases me, Father.’ Agripin laid his head near his father’s; his black smoky mane resting across his father’s nearly transparent forehead.

‘I am proud to have a son so brave and strong.’

“A tear fell from Agripin’s fathomless gaze as his father slowly faded into mist and twilight.

From that day on, moi lyubovi, my loves, the Tsardom of Unicorns was never without a Red Unicorn, Bearer of All. He may not have been the swiftest or lightest, but his heart was the strongest and he kept all within his tsardom safe.”

Katya finished her story and hugged her sons to her once more. She smiled as she felt the heaviness of Anatoly’s sleeping body against her side, and then turned to Aleksei. He was staring down at his hands, deep in thought. She lightly kissed the top of his head and waited for him to speak.

After a moment he looked up at her, his deep blue eyes somber, all the anger and heat of earlier had faded away. “Mama, do you think I could have a brave and strong heart, even if I am clumsy and slow?”

She blinked to clear eyes suddenly misty with tears and smiled down at him tenderly. “Ah, moy voin, my little warrior, your heart is strong and brave. You will protect the innocence of this world, I know this. Ya znayu.”

Aleksei took a deep breath and nodded, resting against her side. He reached over and took Anatoly’s hand. “I will be Anatoshka’s Red Unicorn. I will bear all for him, Mama, for I am the eldest.”