AMARI
Amari narrowed her eyes and scanned the forest glade, trying to see between the wide oak trees. She walked, unhurried, searching for her friend. Her cloven hooves landed without a sound on the cool forest floor as she pushed branches aside with her horn, knocking down some leaves.
A twig snapped. She pivoted in the direction of the sound. No one was there. She shook her head, sending her mane flying in all directions. Where could Karel be?
Soft laughter floated from above. Amari looked up into the tree to her right, where the object of her search perched on one of the thick boughs. Karel pressed a hand to her mouth, her face contorting as she tried to hold back an eruption of giggles. In her other hand she gripped a broken twig.
Amari touched the tip of her crimson horn to the sole of Karel's brown sandal. “Gotcha!”
Karel dropped the twig halves and clutched her stomach with both hands as her body shook with laughter and tears streamed down her face. “Amari . . . that was priceless!” She swung her legs over the branch, dropped onto Amari's back, then scooted into a sitting position, clutching Amari’s mane.
“I don't find anything funny about that,” Amari said as she stepped over a moss-covered log and proceeded through the forest. “Not anything at all.”
Karel shifted her weight and leaned forward. “Come on, Amari. Did you really think that the snapped twig was me?”
Amari turned her head. Karel smirked and swept her long red hair behind her. “Well . . . no. But I–” She nodded and softened her tone. “I guess it was kind of funny.”
The two friends laughed, and the sounds of their mirth trailed off into peaceful silence. Amari slowed her gait as they neared the forest’s edge, allowing Karel to slide down to the ground. The young girl paused, and Amari waited while Karel straightened her rumpled green dress and cloak.
Karel looked up, then shifted her attention to Amari's neck, stroking it as she spoke softly. "I love your mane. It's so pretty with all the red stripes woven amongst the white." She combed Amari's mane with her gentle fingers. "The red matches your horn."
Amari nodded, then looked ahead to watch the setting sun, its disc fading from deep orange into red. A slight breeze ruffled through the branches and caressed Amari's skin. Smiling, she looked back at Karel. A hint of mischief glinted in the girl's green eyes. The race was on.
Amari quickened her gait, and soon began looping and weaving around the massive oaks and over fallen branches. With a triumphant shout she broke through the edge of the forest into the meadow and slowed her pace. She spun around, expecting to see Karel behind her.
She wasn't there.
“Karel?”
No reply.
Amari walked back into the forest and found Karel leaning against a tree. Her chest heaved as she took quick, short breaths. A few coughs escaped her throat each time she exhaled.
“What's wrong?” Amari asked.
Karel looked up, her hand pressed against her chest. Her breathing finally slowed and she took a deep breath. “Nothing. I’m fine, just haven’t been feeling well." She smiled. "I guess you won this time, my friend.” She swallowed, took one last deep breath, then stepped forward and leaned against Amari's flank. “Congratulations.”
Amari nuzzled her friend’s cheek and received a giggle as reward. She lowered herself, allowing Karel to grab hold of her mane. Amari gave Karel a nudge to help her mount. Once she was satisfied that Karel was settled, she walked back through the forest and again into the clearing.
Amari looked back at Karel. “Do you need any more unicorn medicines? I'm sure we can go see Nerem-”
Karel waved a hand, dismissing the offer. “It’s nothing. I should be fine in a couple of days.”
Over the next few days Amari found herself taking Karel home earlier than usual, and as the days progressed she saw less and less of her friend. Every day Amari asked Karel if she was all right, but the girl just said she needed more rest, and she refused to be healed by the other unicorns.
Then, one day, she didn’t come. At noon, Amari came to their usual meeting spot on the edge of the forest and waited.
Hours went by as she watched the town gate, about fifty yards away, expecting to see Karel's small, thirteen-year-old form walk through at any moment.
But her friend never arrived. Amari lowered herself to the ground as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and prayed silently for Karel.
Early the following morning, Amari arrived at the small den of evergreens that belonged to her father, Nerem. Still sleeping on his bed of moss in the center, his mother-of-pearl horn stretched up out of his forehead, pointing straight to the Heavens. Her gaze traveled the length of the two-foot long horn from tip to base where it was centered in a bright blue star that glowed as he breathed. That star marked him as the unicorns’ leader – the wisest among them.
A small wooden table stood to her right, its top covered with bowls and empty bottles, waiting for the next round of medicines to be made for the villagers. In a few weeks, every member of the herd would line up in the Circle, and a shaving would be taken from their horns – also called alicorns – to be used. Amari had offered shavings from her horn many times, but her father always refused. She learned a long time ago not to question his decision in this matter, but she never understood why he wouldn't allow her to contribute.
Amari watched him as he slept, enjoying the peaceful setting. A few quiet moments went by, and the cool morning breeze blew into the den, stirring up some dried bits of moss on the ground. Finally, Nerem opened his eyes, and the beard on his elegant, equine chin twitched. He rose and stretched his muscles, then shook himself, as though warding off any sleepiness that was ornery enough to remain.
Amari chuckled. Her father lifted his head at the sound, and his countenance brightened when his eyes met hers.
“Good morning, my daughter. What brings you here this early?”
Amari took a few steps forward, her peaceful feelings fading as she remembered why she came. “It’s Karel, father. I’m worried.” Amari told Nerem about Karel’s breathing problems, and how every day she seemed to get worse and worse.
“She said she'd be fine, that she needed to rest. But–”
“But what?”
“Yesterday she didn't come.”
Concern darkened Nerem’s indigo eyes, and his voice grew urgent. “Does she have enough medicines?”
"I asked, but she never gave me a straight answer." Amari replied.
"Did you offer her more?"
“Many times, Father. But she refused every time.”
Nerem frowned, and his eyes saddened as he looked away. “This is highly unusual. There isn't–” His voice grew quieter. “There shouldn't be anything that unicorn horns can't heal.”
“Shouldn’t be? What do you mean?”
Nerem shook his head. “Nothing. I will go visit the village and speak with Karel's father about this. Hopefully he will be able to tell me what is going on.” He looked at Amari. His eyes brimmed with tears, and his voice grew shaky. “While I’m gone, I want you to gather together with the other unicorns and pray for Karel, and pray for the village. I hope and pray with all my heart that this isn't what I fear it is.”
Amari groaned as she stretched her stiff muscles. She and the other unicorns she'd gathered had spent all day praying in the center area of the forest they called the Circle, a wide section surrounded by trees in a perfect circular shape. The sun was already beginning to set for the day, and her eyelids drooped with exhaustion.
She looked around – still no sign of Nerem. She turned to Ephe, the unicorn beside her. Amari watched her for a moment, gazing at the beautiful mother-of-pearl horn that matched the other unicorns’. She sighed and gave Ephe a gentle nudge. "I'm going back to my den. Will you come get me when Nerem returns?"
Ephe nodded. "Of course."
Amari touched her muzzle to Ephe's. “Thanks.” Ephe replied with a soft nicker.
The next morning, Amari woke as the rising sun illuminated her den. She swallowed, trying to wet her parched throat, dry from sleep. Where was Ephe? Had Nerem returned yet? Why had no one woken her?
Amari rose to her hooves and jogged to Ephe's den roughly twenty hoof-steps away from hers. “Ephe!” she said as she poked her head in. Empty. Could she still be at the Circle?
Amari spun around, then raced through the forest as she had a week ago with Karel. Before, her steps had been fueled by happiness. Now they were powered by fear.
As she ran, the dryness in her throat grew, becoming unbearable. She had to stop for a drink. Amari altered her direction until she reached a stream that spilled out into a small pool of water between two trees.
After taking a long sip she pulled back, stopping when she saw her reflection looking back at her. Her crimson horn and scarlet highlights in her mane glowed in the morning sunlight. Why was she so different? Most of the other unicorns treated her normally, but there were a select few that would ask the same question when they thought she wasn't listening. No one seemed to know the answer. She sighed, her breath creating two small ripples in the water. Why was I born like this?
A breathless voice called out, breaking her out of her thoughts. She whirled around to see Ephe running towards her, nostrils flared.
"Ephe, what's wrong?"
"I've been looking for you . . . Nerem has returned. He's called a meeting and is waiting at the Circle. He said it's vital that you be there."
Amari looked down at her reflection once more.
Ephe nudged her. “Come on, we have to hurry. The meeting is about to start.”
Amari turned away from the pool. "I'm coming."
Amari and Ephe trotted in silence. By the time they arrived at the Circle, a number of unicorns had already gathered. The herd made room for Amari and Ephe to pass to the center, where Nerem stood waiting. Amari let her gaze travel across the crowd as she walked. She blinked. “Ephe?” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Where are the villagers?”
Ephe scanned the crowd for a few seconds before she replied. “That’s odd. They're not here.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Neither do I.”
Nerem paced back and forth at the center of the Circle. As they approached him, he stopped and greeted them both with a touch from his nose.
“Amari, I'm glad you're here. We have much to discuss, but first I need to make an announcement to the herd.”
He turned to address the other unicorns, his eyes clouded with sadness.
“Good evening, my children, and thank you for coming. Before we begin, let us all pay our respects to The Great One.” They all bent down onto one front knee and bowed their heads until the tip of their horns touched the ground. “Father, we are your children. Please be with us and guide us during this meeting. I pray that you will not forsake us, no matter what happens. May your will be done. Amen.”
The herd echoed “Amen” and raised their heads in unison. A murmur ran through them as they cast worried glances between Nerem and each other, and they began whispering amongst themselves. Nerem’s prayers weren’t usually so somber, so their concern was understandable.
After what seemed like an eternity, Nerem finally spoke again. “My children, I bring grave news of our human friends. It seems that an illness has befallen them that has been deemed incurable.”
The entire herd gasped. Nothing was incurable as long as there were unicorns! Amari shook her head. That must've been what was wrong with Karel . . . but why didn't she say anything?
“How can that be possible?” Someone asked hesitantly.
“I do not know.”
“How do you know unicorns can't cure it?”
“Because I tried,” Nerem said. “I tried until I had no energy left, but there was no change.”
The whispers stopped, and the entire forest grew silent.
“It began with just one,” Nerem said. His gaze met Amari's. “A young girl.”
Amari's throat tightened. Karel…
“At first,” he continued, “it seemed like a normal sickness – fever, loss of breath, body aches – so they treated it with the medicines we gave them a year ago. It appeared to work for a few days. But then she got sick again. They continued to give her the medicines, but she only worsened. Anyone that touched her began exhibiting the same symptoms. Soon it became airborne, and more fell ill.”
“How many of the humans are sick?” someone asked.
Nerem sighed and his head drooped slightly. “Every human in the village is ill, some worse than others.” Nerem's voice pitched higher. “Many, including the two boys I tried to heal last night, have already passed on.” He cleared his throat and raised his head. “What I’ve told you this evening, my children, describes the beginnings of an ancient prophecy that no one but myself and God knows about. It is a prophecy that I had hoped and prayed would never come true.”
“What’s going to happen? What prophecy are you talking about?” another of Amari's friends asked.
“After tonight one other in our herd will learn of this prophecy, for it involves that unicorn. The rest of you will know of it after it has been fulfilled. But as you go to your homes tonight, I would like that one to remain. I wish to speak with her. She knows who she is.”
Amari's heart pounded. He hadn't looked at her, but it was obvious that she was the one Nerem mentioned. Somehow this unspoken prophecy included her. What did it mean?
Ephe turned and touched her nose to Amari's, then left with the rest of the herd. Amari's heart warmed at the knowledge that Ephe would be praying.
Soon the only ones left standing were Amari and her father. Nerem stood a few feet away with his head bent towards the ground. When Nerem finally spoke, his voice shook.
“Come closer, my daughter.” Amari obeyed. Love mixed with grief filled his eyes, and she blinked back tears at the sight of it. “Yes, Amari, just as you guessed, the prophecy does involve you.”
“Father, please tell me . . . I mean, I need to know . . . is Karel–?” Her mixed up confused words stumbled out, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask the question that burned in her heart.
“Karel is alive, dearest child. Barely, but she is alive. She is the girl that this mysterious illness began with."
Tears, both of relief and fear, flowed, unbidden. “How?”
Nerem sighed. “Unicorn hunters have discovered we are here and that the villagers are friends with us. It seems these hunters believed that in order to destroy us, they must first remove the town. Rather than brute force, they chose stealth and subtlety to complete their task, and they have almost succeeded.”
“But how can this illness be incurable by unicorns?”
“I do not know. That knowledge is beyond me, I'm afraid. Only the Great One knows.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Which is why we have this prophecy.”
Amari swallowed hard. “What does it say?”
“It says that there will be born among the herd a crimson horned unicorn, and that she alone will be able to save their human friends in what might seem their darkest time.”
“What else does the prophecy say? Do I just go to the town and heal everyone?”
“No. That would take too long, and you would be drained of all your energy after only a few attempts. More people would die before you had the chance to heal them.” His sorrow-filled gaze locked onto hers, and Amari began to realize what this would mean. She was the only unicorn with a crimson horn. If there had been more, this would be simple. But she was the only one. The only way to save her human friends was to give up everything she knew, everything she was. The removal of her crimson horn would cost Amari her life.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Nerem lowered himself to the ground and tucked his long legs underneath him. He motioned for Amari to do likewise. “Amari, ever since you were born and your crimson horn began to grow, I feared for you. As time passed I prayed fervently that this prophecy would never come true. I wanted to tell you, but it wouldn't have done any good if the need never arose. At the same time, though, I did my best to prepare you. Just in case.”
Amari widened her eyes. Everything was starting to make sense. “The medicines...” she whispered.
“Yes, and now you understand why I never allowed you to contribute. Your alicorn needed to remain unused, untouched. Otherwise, it might not have been sufficient.” Nerem sighed, and his intense stare burned into her. “The prophecy has just begun and can only be fulfilled through you, my daughter. You have a grave choice to make.”
Amari closed her eyes, fighting to keep her tears at bay. “S-so . . . no matter what I choose, I'll never see Karel again. If I choose my own life, Karel, her father, and all of the others will die. But if I accept the prophecy,” she raised her gaze to meet his again, "I will die."
“But they will be alive!"
Amari turned her head in the direction of the village. Was this what she had been born for? To die? She wanted the humans to live, yes, but she didn't know many of them. Could she pay such a price for those she didn't even know?
“I - I'm scared, Father."
Nerem pressed his cheek to her's. “I am, too."
“Would you miss me?”
New tears fell from Nerem's indigo eyes. “Terribly, my precious one. But tell me this, Amari. Answer me this one question. Do you love Karel?”
Amari was taken aback. “Yes, father. Of course!”
“How much?”
Amari pulled away. She thought about the prophecy, and she thought about all that it entailed. She knew what the right decision was. If she were to be selfish, humans would die. The illness would probably spread past the village and infect more and more humans in other villages. Amari could never live with that for all eternity.
She thought about Karel, and all the times they had shared – the laughter, the quiet moments, the sad days. She thought about the past week, and the worry that grew as she saw less and less of Karel, and she knew her answer.
Karel
I'm so sorry, Karel,” her father whispered. Tears spilled down his cheeks and onto Karel's sheets as he knelt beside her bed. He took a deep breath, coughing as he exhaled. “Your grandmother is with the Great One now, and she suffers no more.”
Karel lay still as her father told her the sad news. She closed her eyes and wept silently, unable to move. The past few days had been torture as this illness grew among the people. Her own condition worsened every day, and each time she fell asleep she wondered whether or not she would wake up in Heaven. Some nights she wished it. She didn't want this pain anymore. She didn't want to hear any more reports of family and friends losing their lives to this strange disease. She just wanted it all to be over.
“How many more, Daddy?” she whispered through dry lips. She swallowed, wincing. Her throat burned. “How many more will die?"
Her father gently lifted her hand, and with trembling lips kissed it tenderly. “I don't know. Nerem promises that there is a unicorn that God has prepared for such a time as this. We just need to wait for that one to come.”
Karel nodded slightly, giving her father a tiny squeeze with her fingers. She hoped and prayed that it would be soon.
A few hours later, Karel opened her eyes. She looked around tiredly, realizing she was still in her room, and that she was still sick. Then her gaze fell on the last thing she expected to see.
“Amari?”
The crimson horned unicorn stood beside her bed, nuzzling her hand. Amari's breath cooled and refreshed her weak fingers.
“Yes, Karel. I am here.”
“Why?” she whispered. “Daddy said someone was coming, but-” She looked at Amari and gasped. “Is it you?”
Amari nodded as she lowered herself beside the bed, folding her legs underneath her. The unicorn stretched her neck, laying her head across Karel's body. “It is I,” she whispered.
“But . . . how? There's no way you can cure us all, unless-” Karel's voice trailed off as Amari broke eye contact. Horror struck Karel and the pain in her head swelled. She tried to stifle her sobs, but it only intensified her pain. “No . . . it's not possible. There has to be someone else.”
“There isn't. I am the only one whom God has equipped for this task. And I have accepted it.”
Fresh tears spilled down the sides of Karel's cheeks, falling into her ears. Sobs racked her pain ridden body as she wept. She closed her eyes and cried out to God. "Please! Send someone else! Anyone but Amari. She's my best friend! Why? Why her?"
"Because, dear child, she is the one whom I have chosen, and she is willing."
Karel laid her hand on Amari's cheek. Her fingers met wetness and she opened her eyes. Tears flowed out of Amari's bright indigo eyes, soaking her white cheeks.
"I don't want you to die," Karel said, her chin trembling.
"I know. But I want to die. For you."
Karel pressed her lips together, and the two friends locked gazes.
“I love you, Karel.”
Karel smiled through her tears, and her voice shook as she spoke. “I love you, too. Thank you.”
Karel stood at the center of The Circle with her father and Ephe, waiting for the ceremony to begin. A few feet in front of them some of the men from the village were adding the last layer of wood to Amari's funeral pyre. On either side of it stood a small brazier – a flaming torch rested in each.
A week had passed since Amari's sacrifice. Thanks to her, Karel and many others had survived that terrible disease. Now it was time for everyone to give their thanks and to say goodbye.
Movement rustled through the crowd behind her, and Karel turned to see Nerem standing at the top of the center aisle. He held his head high for a few seconds, then lowered it and began walking down the aisle. About fifteen of the village men followed behind him carrying the large wooden litter that held Amari's lifeless body.
As the funeral procession came closer, Amari's head came into view, revealing to Karel the sunken hole where Amari's horn used to be. New tears slid down her cheeks. Her father laid his hand on her shoulder and she reached up to grab it, tightening her fingers around his.
Nerem stopped in front of them as the men lifted Amari's body and placed it on top of the stacked wood. The unicorn leader bowed his head, his wise eyes filled with sadness. Karel's father leaned forward, kissing Nerem's forehead near the base of his horn, and then turned to address the crowd.
"Friends, we are gathered here for three reasons. The first is to celebrate the life of a young unicorn who enjoyed every moment she was given, and who spread that joy to those she came in contact with." He paused for a moment as a tear traced a path down his cheek.
He turned to Nerem and laid his other hand on the side of the leader's neck. "The second reason we are here, is to mourn the death of a father's daughter," he looked at Karel and Ephe, "and of a friend."
Karel's father stepped over to the brazier on one side of the funeral pyre, picked up the torch, then nodded to the men near the brazier on the other side. One of them reached over and took up the torch in his hands.
"And lastly,” her father continued. “We are here because of love. Love that led to a sacrifice. This sort of love was first displayed when God's Savior gave His life for the human race, and it was seen again when this young unicorn - a daughter, a friend - gave her life for a sick village, so that we could live." He looked up at the sky, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "Amari, today we honor your life, your death, and your love. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts."
Karel looked behind her at the crowd of unicorns and humans mingled together. Everyone wept, but the radiant smiles of the men, women, and children were evident. Only a week ago they were at death's door, but now they were alive. They would never forget what Amari had done for them, and neither would Karel.
A cool wind blew around The Circle as the torches ignited the branches of the funeral pyre. It swept the flames up, engulfing Amari's body. As the flames danced, a new breeze brushed past Karel, kissing her tear-moistened cheek, then whistled through the trees encircling them, creating a song of life and death. But most beautiful of all, was the song it sang of Amari's love.