From the Archive: The Fortunicorn
The fantasy in full - newly updated
Usually, I send out standalone fiction, week by week.
Sometimes, however, a story begs to be told in a different way - a different form, genre… or length.
This was one of those times. I ended up spending the first few months of 2024 serialising this short-story-in-drabbles.
Technically a romantasy, ‘The Fortunicorn’ follows three princesses - sisters. Unlucky in (romantic) love, they seek to improve their fortunes by meeting a certain magical creature…
The original drabbles total 2,600 words. Today’s updated post has a few small changes (minor edits, which include separating this all-in-one tale from the episodic version), plus a selection of images (AI-generated with Substack) from the serialised posts.
I, a human being, wrote the text myself.
Now for the story! Grab a cup of lavender tea, and settle in…
In a land of magic, three unlucky princesses were longing for love.
The golden-haired princess suffered from a mysterious illness; she rarely saw anyone outside of the royal apartments.
The dark-haired princess nursed a broken heart, for a dastardly lord had left her at the altar, seven years previously.
And the red-haired princess, the heir herself, simply did not fall in love - at least, not in the way that many people do…
So when the fabled Two-horned Unicorn was sighted, out in the Whispering Woods, they had to meet it.
If you did, you see, it would bring good fortune.
The sisters arrived in the Whispering Woods on a glorious summer morning. Leaving their entourage at the forest edge, they proceeded on foot - but it wasn’t long before Alanah, the golden-haired princess, needed to rest.
They found a clearing. Her sisters tucked her up against a tree and, deciding to continue the search, promised that they wouldn’t go far.
Wrapped in her cloak, she tried to sleep… but the wind rustled the foliage so, and just what was that knocking sound?
Princess Alanah opened her large brown eyes. There, on the other side of the clearing, was the Two-horned Unicorn. It was one of those grey equines that were so pale, people often mistook them for white horses.
She, however, knew better. In Alanah’s neverending convalescence, reading was one of the only things she could easily do. She had had the archivists bring her every book in the palace, one by one. This snow-backed Twonicorn’s smokier muzzle meant that it had dark skin - and that made it a grey.
It was currently knocking a front hoof against a birch tree on the other side of the clearing.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Princess Alanah.
The Two-horned Unicorn stopped, then lowered its hoof. It bowed.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I see. You’d like to come closer.’
‘I would indeed, my lady,’ the creature replied, raising its head from the bow in, oh, such a graceful arc. Its voice, too, was mellow - and melodic.
‘Please,’ Alanah croaked. She cleared her throat as the Twonicorn stepped a soft clop across the forest floor towards her.
Then, it knelt, and settled down beside her. ‘You are unwell.’
‘I am,’ she said, sighing. ‘I don’t suppose you know what it is? My sickness, I mean.’
‘Nay, lady,’ the equine replied. ‘I am no healer: merely a Two-horned Unicorn.’
Princess Alanah smiled. ‘A Twonicorn,’ she suggested.
Something twinkled in the equine’s eye. ‘A Fortunicorn!’
They chuckled together. Then: ‘I expect you’re wondering whether it is true,’ the creature continued.
‘Whether...’ Alanah blinked. ‘Sorry: what’s true?’
‘That meeting me brings good fortune. Well,’ it said, with a little snort, ‘it is true. See!’
The Fortunicorn lowered its head to the forest floor, so that Alanah could get a better view. One horn was almost transparent; she had thought it merely a branch of that birch across the clearing. The other horn was all in shadow.
‘My horns attune to negative energy,’ the Fortunicorn explained. ‘My subtle horn tells me where I shall find it, precisely - even to a particular clearing.’
Princess Alanah glanced at the birch tree.
‘My shadow horn,’ the Fortunicorn continued, ‘absorbs the energy. And then... heh heh heh. I eat it.’
Alanah did a double take. ‘How?!’
‘Oh,’ the Fortunicorn replied, waving a hoof, ‘the energy drains into my oesophagus, stomach, etc. Quite simple, really… you don’t have to do anything, much - merely meet me. As you are!’
The princess leant back against her tree. ‘Most wonderful,’ she murmured.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Princess Garnet looked around in surprise.
‘Just because you like climbing,’ Princess Deirdre continued, rolling her eyes. ‘Well, I won’t be going, thank you very much.’
There was a silence, broken only by the Whispering waterfall. Then: ‘Riiiiight,’ said Garnet. Her voice was as icy as her hair seemed aflame. ‘You know I’m not commanding you?’
Deirdre merely shrugged.
Garnet stepped towards her. ‘I said, “Perhaps we should find the highest point, for vantage.” With emphasis on the “perhaps” - no, indeed, I shall go, immediately. Just stay where I can find you again.’
Princess Deirdre watched, impassive, as her sister scaled the waterfall path and rose, out of sight, into the tops of the Whispering Woods.
She remained by the pool. The cascade churned in her hearing - and her heart.
Without knowing what she was saying until she had already spoken it, Deirdre had snapped. Again. This time, she’d blazed at her second sister. How long before she turned both of them away for good?
Worse still, would her sorrows stab further innocents? Already, there were lords she could not bring herself to fall for, despite their proven chivalry...
Princess Deirdre had no desire to listen to her fears. The heartbroken would not become the heartbreaker - and yet, and yet…
The deeper she looked into the waterfall, the more victims she spied, shrouded, in its flow. Their numbers only expanded - far out of her inner circle - even to the kindest pauper in the land.
Whoever next? A child?
Princess Deirdre dreaded to think. She turned away from the cascade, and - ah...
There, on the other side of the pool, a little way downstream, the Fortunicorn was stooping to the water.
Yes. Just as she’d thought: even magical creatures need to drink, eventually.
Deirdre wandered by the water until she reached a place where she could face the Two-horned Unicorn - the Twonicorn, she reminded herself; that was the more accurate term.
It lapped away at the liquid. No cares in the world.
Princess Deirdre forced herself to be politer, this time. She waited - but only for a lull in the creature’s thirst. She still made the first move: ‘Enchanté.’
The Fortunicorn raised its head from the water, saw Deirdre, swallowed, then gave a bow. ‘My lady.’
Deirdre curtsied in return. Her eyes never left the equine’s.
There was a silence - broken only by the waterfall’s pool as it rippled between her and this living, beautiful fable.
‘You are grieving,’ the Fortunicorn said.
Princess Deirdre’s breath caught in her throat. Her resolve crumbled. She did not - could not - reply. Instead, she turned back towards the cascade, gnawing at her lip.
It was no use. She burst into tears, and was never quite sure, afterwards, what happened next - only that she heard a splash…
The highest hill in the Whispering Woods sported the tallest trees.
What were they? Pine? Fir? Cedar? Sequoia? Princess Garnet wasn’t sure.
Well, what did it matter? She’d already worked out a way to climb them. Her starting branch was directly above her - the second, a little to her left...
Garnet finished the hair-braid she’d been weaving. Then, she tucked her now-neat tresses down into her doublet; the plait tickled her spine.
At last, she was ready to rise. Jumping into the air, her hands grasped her starting branch and held it fast.
‘Thank you, tree,’ she whispered, swinging.
Princess Garnet climbed and climbed. On entering the canopy, she’d made a mental note of it: the final stage of her ascendancy!
Yet the greenery rose above her without revealing even a hint of blue.
Again. Oh, this was too typical… when would she emerge into the daylight?
Garnet wasn’t quite ready for her throne. Actually, she’d always felt that she wouldn’t be mature enough to rule until she was, well, in her maturer years.
In the meantime, she’d always thought she’d be a wife and mother.
It wasn’t simply that that was the done thing. Garnet actively craved it - from the day she’d first fallen in love...
She was eight years old, then, and shy. New people were terrifying. She often worried that they would turn on her, just as they had turned on her parents.
That particular day, a new apprentice bard performed in the palace - an orphan boy of ten. He made Garnet nervous, too - but the thought of his presence simultaneously felt like… bliss. Like waiting for her birthday.
Here was a different sort of shyness, she knew. Only later did she discover that this new emotion was the beginning of love - and how elated she was when, five years on, he confessed his own feelings for her-
How surprised when, three years after that, he enthused about their bodies finally acting on it-
How disturbed, when she realised that he (and all their friends) were, in fact, in earnest about such desires-
How heartbroken they both were, when he wouldn’t marry her without… it.
Princess Garnet’s sorrow, however, was now years behind her. The apprentice bard had turned professional, and taken up his post in a northern kingdom’s court; she, of course, remained in her own land.
There was plenty of work to do here - now, for instance. Where in these Whispering Woods would the Two-horned Unicorn be?
At last, Garnet’s upper half emerged from the treetops into glorious sunshine - and the breeze. Her face was slick with pollen, but the sweet wind cooled all her skin. It even ruffled her undershirt.
She breathed deeply, drawing air into her lungs. She willed it further, into her aching arms and legs...
Her eyes snapped open. There was a terrible creak-crack from the, um, tree next door, as it were. Its branches thrashed in all directions, disproportionate to the strength of the wind.
Garnet shifted her position around her own trunk. If this was dangerous, she needed to be ready-
Up popped the Fortunicorn. It spat out a green-leaved mouthful with a ‘Plfft,’ and turned its head this way and that, panting, searching for something… someone.
Garnet stared, fascinated. The equine had simply enormous cheeks, as though they’d been caught and sail-puffed out by the breeze - and since when did any equine climb a tree?
When it spotted her, the Fortunicorn inclined its head towards her in a bow.
‘My - lady,’ it said, panting.
‘Good morning,’ Garnet replied, wondering if the day was indeed still before noon. The sun was very high, now... only a little higher than they were. ‘Sorry,’ she added, ‘I have to ask: what are you doing all the way up here?’
The equine appeared to do a double-take. ‘Why,’ it said, ‘I am - seeking you - Princess.’
Garnet nearly lost her grip on the tree. ‘B-but - I thought...’ She breathed. ‘I thought it was the other way around?’
‘Ah, yes,’ said the creature, chuckling, regaining its usual breath. ‘Yes, I know what the fables say, and they’re correct: one has to move towards one’s luck, after all.’
‘But you just said-’
‘It requires both of us. You need good fortune, and a Fortunicorn needs to eat.’ The equine launched into the same explanation it had given Alanah. ‘...and why do I exist?’ it finished. ‘Well, some folk try their hardest - do everything they possibly can - and still they don’t see any improvement.’
Princess Garnet nodded slowly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can imagine that.’
‘And so, my presence changes things - improves the world around us, I like to think.’
The breeze gusted. The Fortunicorn’s mane caught on one of its horns.
Princess Garnet’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘I hope so,’ she replied. ‘But is there enough good luck to go around? Many more in this land need our help, and some...’
She glanced away. Just above the treeline, the sky blurred with heat; Deirdre’s face swam through the blue into her mind. ‘Some may be beyond any help at all.’
The Fortunicorn chuckled. ‘Then why,’ it said, ‘are my cheeks so full?’
The Fortunicorn, it transpired, had put Princess Deirdre to sleep - accidentally, of course.
Princess Garnet knew that merely being in the equine’s presence was enough to clear her family’s negative energy - and therefore the cause of their current misfortunes.
Deirdre’s emotional state, however, complicated things. Her transfer, though without contact, had also drained her physical energy. When Garnet returned to the woodland waterfall, she found her sister slumbering upon the bank.
But Deirdre would not wake... even after half an hour, and much shaking.
Garnet sighed. The day was slipping away, and Alanah was waiting.
She gathered Deirdre into her arms.
Shadows stretched across the clearing.
Deirdre and Garnet had promised her that they wouldn’t go far... but what if dusk fell, and they had not returned?
Alanah decided to wait a little longer. She folded her cloak, which she had already shucked off in the heat of the day. Then, she breathed, listened... shook her head. She was on the point of calling for their entourage, when-
Snap.
One cracking twig, then another, and another - growing louder, crunching towards Alanah - all from the direction of the path.
Here was Princess Garnet, carrying the unconscious Princess Deirdre. The former set the latter down beside Alanah - then took a seat herself, upon the earth.
‘What...?’ began Alanah, glancing between her sisters.
Garnet explained. ‘...and all we have to do now is rejoin our entourage - head for home.’
‘And Deirdre’ll wake, will she?’
‘Oh, yes. The Fortunicorn gave me its word.’
In the high treetops, the Fortunicorn inhaled fresh dusk air.
Ah, today had been excellent! The equine still felt so full - too full, in fact, to reach the forest floor before dark, but never mind. Above, the stars were opening one by one, like waking flowers…
Time passed. The night twinkled, as if to wisely nod and say, ‘It’s past your bedtime, young Fortunicorn.’
And so, the equine crashed its way down the trunk, to a place where the branches grew closely together. Then, wedging its three rear legs in and around the sturdiest limbs, it settled backwards, caught in the arms of its tree...
The Fortunicorn dreamt about the palace. The princesses had met their entourage at the edge of the Whispering Woods, made camp under the eaves, and returned - or would return - the following day. Time passes differently in dreams.
Their way home led out into lake country; the palace was surrounded by sheep in undulating fields. On its other side, another road ran past a mere into the mountains.
The Fortunicorn’s imagination followed. Off the road, a stony path led to a faintly glowing cave. A man, solid and bearded, sat sentinel in its mouth.
Behind him, two more adults bustled around a fire. The Steward crafted beds out of their packs and coats; the Surgeon ladled emerald liquid into the cups of five ragged children.
‘Why is it green,’ asked one little boy, ‘if it’s lavender?’
‘Because green makes us feel calmer, as well as healing our bodies,’ the Surgeon explained.
‘And lavender has green leaves!’ a girl piped up with.
‘That, too,’ said the Surgeon, smiling. ‘We’ll sleep well, after we’ve had this tea.’
‘But how do you know?’
‘Because,’ they replied, ‘I invented it myself. Hush, now. We’re all safe here - it isn’t far to the palace, now.’
The smallest child tugged at the Surgeon’s shirt. ‘Is that where our mummies and daddies are?’
‘Oh - I… don’t know, darling.’
‘We’ll see,’ said the Steward, crouching. His eyes flicked towards the last pair of little ones; they were huddled together, orphans since birth. ‘But we’ll be there for you, too,’ he added.
‘As... a different mummy and daddies?’
‘Parent and daddies,’ the Surgeon murmured, turning away to the fire.
The Steward chuckled. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘Not exactly. Our Surgeon, here, doesn’t love me in that way, and...’ He turned towards the cave mouth. ‘...the Captain doesn’t love anyone. Do you, Captain?’
‘Not in the way that many people do, Steward. Let’s leave it at that.’
Aha!
In the darkness, the equine woke with a satisfied snort. Today, the princesses had doubted the effects of their meetings - just as the cave group had, after last week’s shipwreck.
Tomorrow, however… oh, tomorrow, good fortune would indeed be present in the palace - brought there by the Fortunicorn itself.
Copyright © E.A. Colquitt 2024