Am I Truly the Last? ( on semi-hiatus)

This blog is now archived!! Over at aforestofcanons. What if– the last unicorn in the world was trapped in a mortal shell? Would she still seek out rest of her people, or grow old, and die as a mortal? Would she go mad in her fragile mortal shell? Would she even remember that she's a unicorn at all? Reimagined Lady Amalthea from The Last Unicorn.

[oldasthemoon]

This blog is now archived! Come find me at @aforestofcanons! 

<3

[oldasthemoon]

fierypips‌:

               it wasn’t that he had never seen a human before! though, he had never seen a human woman before. especially a unicorn that has taken form as one. it made his chest ache. though, he kept his mouth shut. it was becoming more apparent that the poor mystically creature in front of him didn’t realize what she was. curiouser and curiouser. he’d play along. for now. 

                “well, you certainly aren’t dreaming. i’m right here. in the flesh,” he says this rather proudly, puffing out his chest slightly before he turns his attention back to her once again. “what do you mean when you were someone else?” he’ll muse, raising an eyebrow. “are you sayin’ you weren’t always you?”

       “Sometimes I feel as if I was not always as I was now, but those are merely fleeting fancies. Illusions.” After all, how else is one to explain not knowing who they are, other than inventing a fantastic backstory. Her mind is like a sieve, and her memories like a river flowing ever onwards. “I am human, simple as that.” 

     The words, though clear, are more out of defiance than anything else, almost as if to frighten the nightmares away. The dreams can’t hurt her if she blocks them out, can they? Molly has reassured her the monstrous beast, which burns through her dreams like a forest fire, is truly gone, but still, the bull lurks in the darkest parts of her mind like the last glowing embers of a fire.

[chasingrainbowsforever]

Moonlit Night

[monthofloveart]

[oldasthemoon]

fierypips‌:

               confusion is obvious on his features at the unicorn’s confusion towards him. what did she mean by that? he knew what she was, hiding underneath the guise of a human but perhaps maybe she did not? the fae simply flies closer to the other’s face, raising his eyebrow as he observed her. there was a magic that wasn’t her own that seemed to to linger around her. a loud gasp leaves him, a hand coming up to cover his mouth.

                 who could possibly do such a thing to a beautiful creature like a unicorn? powerful wizard magic? a wizard? his eyebrows furrow as arms cross against his bare chest. he finally decides to speak. 

                                                              “of course i am!” 

     A pale hand raises to smooth across Amalthea’s brow, brushing across the strange flower shaped birthmark on her forehead. The gasp puzzles her, as she doesn’t know why the strange man in front of her gasped, only that he seems as confused by her, as she is by him. Has he never seen a human before?

       “Do forgive me– I can no longer tell when I am asleep or when I dream. I seem to recall meeting someone like you, long ago, but that memory is behind a veil, when I was someone else. I had to be sure you weren’t another part of the many dreams which are my daily companions.”

     Her gaze flickers to the ground before returning to the man in front of her, only the reflection of the fae within those eyes, just like any other human woman. 

[oldasthemoon]

@fierypips​ gets a sad and confused former unicorn

     Amalthea takes a step backwards, shaken out of her dazed reverie by the sudden appearance of one of the fae before her waking eyes. The sight pries something loose deep inside of her, the sudden scent of lilac trees overwhelming her, and she blinks deep violet eyes, seeing if the man is part of her waking dreams. 

     No– she’s never been in any place this strange before, but she’s seen someone like him, long ago; in another lifetime, as the phrase goes, when nothing would take her by surprise, as it does now. She almost remembers that time, and wishes she could grasp those memories with a firmer hand, or if not, at least forget what cannot be, instead of living with these half-remembered ghosts. She can’t decide which would be worse. 

     “You’re real, aren’t you?” 

[oldasthemoon]

Sing to me," she said. "That would be valiant, to raise your voice in this dark, lonely place, and it will be useful as well. Sing to me, sing loudly-drown out my dreams, keep me from remembering whatever wants me to remember it. Sing to me, my lord prince, if it please you. It may not seem a hero's task, but I would be glad of it.

The Last Unicorn, Peter Beagle

[roseydoux]

[apparatingtohogsmeade]

I kissed his forehead, as if by doing so I could protect him from the invisible threads that kept him away from me, from that tiny apartment and from my memories. As if I believed that with that kiss I could deceive time and convinced it to pass us by, to return some other day, some other life.

Shadow of the Wind (via hairfulloftears)

[oldasthemoon]

starlyht‌

out of the night came the shadow stalker, that grim bane of men, bane of kings and wrecker of mead halls. his features were both discriminate and non-discriminate, shifting and adjusting. from the shadows in the earth he had swept himself, material but featureless. he shaped himself only vaguely in resemblance of a man, but far too tall for a man and proportioned very much unlike one.

moonlit, inhuman scents had provoked the rare sceadu’s appearance, and so he was surprised to discover that the being before him was neither. disappointingly human, rather, he thought, not without disbelief.

from the shadows, adjacent to her, he seemed to melt. he wondered the taste of her, if human or odd and ethereal as her scent. seeing her was as though awakening from a dream, from recalling the ghost of an impression; but an impression he could scarcely recall nor name. 

in silence he stepped further and studied this odd creature. he observed, “a human that does not carry the scent of human.”

      Amalthea’s eyes narrow at the apparition which appears before her, like some waking nightmare. Certainly, if she was indeed herself, it would perhaps be easy to remember what this creature before her is, or to at least perceive his nature, but if she can’t even remember herself, how can she possibly remember anyone like him, or whether he means her any harm?

     The creature’s words shake her certainty away, as soon as she’s reclaimed it. It’s as if the forest knew in that moment, she needed to remember herself, taking away the safety of the dark trees. Molly’s words ring in her mind again; she’s going mad in that body, do you hear me? She doesn’t belong with us, going from town to town just to keep her safe!

     Stubbornly, she lifts her head, gossamer strands of hair falling over her shoulder, and meets the shadow creature’s gaze, feeling a tremor of fear pass through her, but she doesn’t allow it to show, ever the proud creature, no matter what form she takes.  “I don’t understand what you mean.” 

     Even as she denies the magic within herself, there’s the faintest flutter of bronze wings still trapped within a cage in the darkness of her mind, reminding her of the darker side of that magic; Part of the same magic, opposite sides of the coin. Just as she is the starlight and moonlight, he’s the shadows the light casts, the moonless and clouded nights. 

[oldasthemoon]

Classical Alignment Test

Your Result:

Neutral Good

85%

You are more of a modern kind of good. You are willing to break or use the law to defeat those you see as evil, and, though you prefer the truth, you are willing to lie to get those who are evil imprisoned or exposed. If you are working for an evil villain, you most likely are using him as a way to stop greater evils.

83%Neutral

57%Lawful Good 

50%Lawful Neutral

48%Chaotic Good 

18%Lawful Evil 

15%Neutral Evil 

12%Chaotic Neutral 

0%Chaotic Evil

Tagged by: @fierypips​ [Thanks, dear heart!] 

Tagging: @normallyxstrange​, @midwintermaid​, @starlyht​, @paharedar​, And really anyone who wants to do it! 

[editcrimes]

I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, although I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.

[oldasthemoon]

normallyxstrange‌

    Mara stepped behind the counter, ever the good shopkeeper. “Well, specific spells we have in abundance. And then some. All we need, of course, is to know the specifics.” He hadn’t been too detailed in their phone conversation, but many people weren’t. Most preferred face to face interaction, the better to explain in full detail just what he might want. Hopefully, he was one of those sorts, otherwise it would be a difficult endeavor to find what he needed. As psychic as she was, she was not a mind reader in the least.

    “So, what do you need?” She got right to it. No since in mincing it. If this was important, they had to get right to it. One thing she’d learned in her years of being a Priestess for the Kindheart Coven was to never waste a moment of time. As she brought out a yellow legal pad from under the counter, she cut her eyes to the side for a few seconds and peeked at her daughter and the young woman who’d accompanied Schmendrick.

    There was aura about the woman. Perhaps, not something physical that Mara could see, but there was something she sensed. It was a curious thing. Her gut tightened and she knew, instantly—whatever this spell was involved her heavily.

    Andy’s attention was drawn away from the young woman when she felt her mother’s eyes on her. Another Foster family quirk—their knowing stares. Though she had no clue what her mom was thinking, the look she briefly gave her was significant enough to make Andy reassess herself and her surroundings.

    “If we don’t have the spell,” her mother went on to say to their customer as she tapped the paper with a pen, “we do have other resources and we will do our best to track down what we can. Of course you understand there’s no guarantee.”

      As the voices went on and Andy tuned them out, she felt it. A ripple of something… otherworldly. Oh, there were a few things that emanated such energy, but this was one kind Andy didn’t understand. It wasn’t overt, but rather subtle but enough now that she was focused, she could sense it.

    Blue eyes returned to Amalthea, soft smile touching her lips. Her body language was clear. She was uncomfortable, shy. Andy didn’t press forward, but rather stood her ground. She reached out too, to touch one of the gems. “It makes me think of reflections on water. The way light shimmers and dances.” She exhaled a soft sigh and withdrew her hand. “It has a power of its own,” she continued, after a brief pause.  “Some people can’t even tell it, but others…”

    The witch trailed off and moved around the table, putting distance between them in an attempt to ease her discomfort, respectful of boundaries. However, she couldn’t take her eyes off her. Realizing that the staring was rude, her smile brightened and she averted her eyes back to the other crystals. “I’m sorry to stare. I’ve never met anyone with eyes like yours.” It was meant as a compliment, but the unease and uncertainty she felt from the woman makes her unsure as to whether or not such words would scare her off. Despite what she felt, she couldn’t get a good reading from her.

    Andy offered a smile as an apology. “It’s just a color I happen to like.” Her finger brushed over a pale amethyst before she withdrew her hand. She debated for a moment before offering, as she did with many of their other customers, refreshment. “Would you like something to drink? It’s no charge or anything. We have water, an assortment of teas…” She shrugged lightly. “If not, I’ll just leave you to browse. No pressure.”

      Schmendrick moves closer to the counter. Naturally, he knew the question was coming, but his face still turns to stone when it’s posed to him nevertheless, the old protective instinct to protect Amalthea remains. Still, he relents, and gestures his head to Amalthea, and lowers his voice. “It involves my niece. Is there– a place we can speak in private, safely? What I have to say would endanger her, if others were to know the truth of who she is.”

     The wizard has no idea whether or not the woman will allow him to speak in private with her, but he is already risking much by speaking with Mara and her daughter Andy. After all, he has no idea if they are witches who are anything like Fortuna, or worse. Unicorn blood is a very valuable asset on the black market, after all. Still, Molly had convinced him that he should seek out help, or failing a reversal spell, at least allies to help protect Amalthea. 

      As Schendrick speaks in hushed tones to Mara, Amalthea lets Andy’s words drown out their voices. 

       However, the description of light on water makes the stillness of her mind ripple even more, memories dancing under the surface, maddeningly just beyond her reach. “Long ago, I lived in a wood, with lilac trees. I remember...” She pauses, searching for the words. “Your words... I seem to remember how the moonlight used to create a path across the lake, a ribbon of silver in the lilac woods.” Her brow furrows, and there’s a hint of sorrow deep in those violet eyes as she remembers; how once upon a time she roamed woods of eternal springtime with eyes unclouded by sorrow or regret. 

     The depth of ages creeps into those rich colored eyes as the memory of herself, in her forest comes flooding back. Her whole form sways, and she has to catch herself on the edge of the table. She ignores the apology for the time being, unconcerned if the mortal is staring at her– Part of the curse of this form is the way humans seem to think it’s beautiful, as if anything that can die can truly be as beautiful as a unicorn.  

      After taking a steadying breath to keep the tears at bay, her eyes return to Andy, passing a pale hand across her brow. “Since you offered, I wouldn’t refuse a water.” 

[hellmouthbound]

       It wasn’t often that a person’s aura made her stop in her tracks. But this was one of those ‘holy cow! look at that!’ moments. Sarah blushed when she was caught staring. She hadn’t realized she had been staring that long, or that noticeably. Clearly, she needed to work on her spying skills. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

[oldasthemoon]

     Amalthea was bending down to pet a stray dog, open palm extended, not even noticing the brunette’s stare. The other woman’s words do halt Amalthea mid movement, however, white hair catching the sunlight as she rises back up. The dog below still watches the woman as though the stars itself were shining in that bright hair, and it would follow her to the ends of the earth. Her stare looks through the woman for a moment, before she gives a small tilt of her head. “Do as you wish. It’s no concern of mine whether you stare or not.” 

[oldasthemoon]

@starlyht has wandered into the woods

     Amalthea sits on the porch of the small cottage where she was living with Schmendrick and Molly. Even if their tones are hushed, she still knows the nature of their argument; It’s the same argument they’ve had for as long as she can remember, insisting that she’s something she is almost certain she has never been– a unicorn. 

     She can’t be some sort of magical creature. It goes beyond all sense of logic. To think otherwise would surely be madness. 

   Yet it’s in these quiet moments, when doubt comes creeping in from the deep recesses of her mind like a spider, whispering, ‘what if you are?’ And the moment she doubts, the veil lifts, and she can see everything more clearly, until her own defiant sense of denial shuts it out again. It can’t be so. 

    She finds that those pervasive thoughts are echoing within her mind much louder today, spurned on by the angry voices within the cottage, and so she sets off into the woods alone, to escape it all for the time being. The woods have always felt more like home than any cottage ever could, anyway. 

    As she walks, the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and in that moment she knows that there’s someone else in these woods. She freezes, standing perfectly still, except for the flash of her white throat as she breathes. The feeling persists; She’s not alone. 

     Immediately, she lowers her head, almost like a ram lowering its head to charge, the flower shaped mark on her forehead faint in the dim light. 

      “Who’s there?” She demands, her tone low. 

[aethernauts]

a & p

[clearslime]

❥ | ailiekirkwood on ig