Elara Moonpetal's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

The unicorn had given all it could, and now it lay in the greenhouse ferns, breathing slow. Elara knelt beside it. Its white coat had gone dull. Its horn no longer caught the light. She stroked its neck and felt the tremble under her hand. Without its strength restored, she could not draw the wing magic she needed. The warrior still waited in the cottage, wingless. Elara's oldest friend could not stand. "I asked too much of you," she said. The unicorn did not lift its head. Elara pressed her palm to its horn and tried to give warmth back. Her magic sputtered. Healing a fever was one thing. Refilling a well this deep was another. She had nothing strong enough to spare. A scrabble of claws sounded at the greenhouse door. Elara's fox nosed it open. He had followed her everywhere since he was a kit, and he came now with his ears flat, sensing her fear. He circled the unicorn once, then tugged Elara's sleeve toward the door. She followed. The fox led her across the grove to the round wooden gazebo where creatures came to rest. Soft cushions ringed its floor. A pool of still water sat at its center. On the rail perched a bright owl, its feathers shifting from red to blue as it watched her. "You feel it too," Elara said. The owl's colors dimmed to a worried gray. It hopped to the pool's edge and dipped one wing. Elara understood. This place held its own gentle magic, meant for weary things. She ran back for the unicorn. It could not walk, so she half-carried it, her small arms straining, the fox pushing at its flank. Together they eased it onto the cushions. Elara laid the unicorn beside the still pool. She placed her hands on its horn again. This time the water answered. Warmth rose from the floor, from the cushions, from the quiet air. The owl spread both wings and its colors brightened to a steady gold. The fox pressed close, lending his own warm weight. Elara poured her magic in and the haven poured with her. The unicorn's coat began to shine. Its breathing deepened. After a long while its horn caught the light again and glowed clean and sharp. The unicorn lifted its head. It got its legs under itself and stood, steady now. Elara pressed her face to its neck and laughed once, shaking. "You're back," she said. But the fox whined and looked toward the cottage. Elara turned. Restoring the unicorn had cost her the whole day and most of her own strength. The wing magic waited, ready at last. Yet she still did not know what could give enough of itself to grow new wings. The unicorn's horn could seal wounds. It could not make what was gone. She needed a creature far more powerful. And she had no idea where to find one.