What follows is the story of how I met my first Silver Unicorn during Astral travel.
It is written in a second person perspective so you can easily place yourself in my shoes and share the experience. Enjoy!
- Lohcca
It is written in a second person perspective so you can easily place yourself in my shoes and share the experience. Enjoy!
- Lohcca
The Silver Unicorns of Alfheim
With age came a curious trait called rationalisation—how humans grew less and less partial to possibility, pursuing the deceptively elusive emblem of maturity.
What was it to be mature? For you, it meant forsaking imagination, confining the breadth of life to simple, graspable truths.
Leaving the fabrics of your reality unquestioned—crushing those childlike wonders of something bigger, shattering, surreal.
You were in no jubilance to concede your imagination just yet—you desired to explore, venture, breach the fringes of normality.
And that’s how you wound up here, shrouded in the luminous marvel that was Alfheim.
Light cascaded from every angle, at the cusp of every bend and on the curlicues of every spiralling tree. The emerging moss was painted a brilliant hue, the critters ambling above it of an equally arresting vibrance.
No stretch of Alfheim’s forest bed was sparse of life, animal or floral, its lushness lit by a cosmic backdrop that faintly reposed behind lapping foliage.
You looked out to the vast pathway cloaked under thick forestry, flanked at either end by columns of trees. You ventured within; apprehensive at first, steps building resolve as you progressed deeper.
Deeper into what? This was a question you never dared to utter. Inquiry was a figment of the past, doubt binding itself to the narrow mind of the individual who’d never met such grandeur.
You welcomed the ethereality whole, gawking covertly at the passing elves, their placid expressions jolting your heartbeat. They were eerily distant, uncaring of your presence, yet so riveting in their disposition.
You traced their blonde tresses, the body of locks that scaled their backs to the forest floor. You breathed their musky notes, earthen and sapid. Took in their profiles, highlighting sharp noses, pointed chins, and perfectly hollowing contours. Averted their parsing gazes, feeling unworthy of merely glimpsing their towering, stunning frames.
Dazed, you parted through interlaced branches and vinery to test an alternate route; snarling branches hissed you away from peering any further. The ambience, the grand pathway, and essentially every element of the environment appeared to lead you to one mysterious location.
It enthralled you to be guided into a specially tailored sight—what might’ve been the gift at the end of your course? Ripples of water wafted to your ears, but it befuddled you to imagine a body of rain pour forming the gift that had been suspended from your senses for so long.
Nevertheless, you strode further. The wisps of green tickled your bare feet as you paced the grass, dirt tracking along your heels and warming it with a sticky paste. Naturally, you reflexed to wipe it off, but hovered once the sensation drew in—a calming, light salve that moistened your soles. Its uninvited embrace worked imperceptibly, lessening the toll of your purposeful gait to a lulled pinch.
You curled your toes to confirm you weren’t, indeed, walking on air—expectedly, your lightness was simply the magic of the Alfheim mud. You accepted its adhesion graciously and continued on your adventure to the luring boon.
A break in the forested skyline revealed a widening lake, reflecting the distantly clear sky in a blue glow. Trees loomed to a lesser mass as they faded to the background, rustling in your trail as you marked the end of the wide pathway.
You reached the lake.
And it was a divine view to behold; your vantage point graced perspective on a sparkling pool of water, palisaded at its perimeter by Alfheim’s circling forestry.
Out of leaves’ concealment, a grand moon shone its luminescence onto the celestial woodlands. The landscape was painted vividly in shades of all sorts, but what struck your interest was not the newly toned imagery.
It was the grazing mare, engrossing your attention with its mythical charm.
A horn protruded from its forehead, fashioned from crude silver. Harmonious to its magical appendage, the unicorn—you gawked it must’ve been one—bore skin and a mane comprising regally silver specklings. It modelled a cropped coat of pale blue fur, sombrer than its piercing crystal irises. You fell into its mesmerism, stunned when it became alerted to your regard; you felt sheepish to have disturbed such a serene portrait.
Hitherto your intrusion, the unicorn had locked itself into its dazzling mirage in the lucid waters—now, its eyes burrowed deeply into your direction, expression sagacious. It appeared to know everything and nothing all at once, a creature sequestered from the dredges of your native realm.
You wanted to make contact with this chaste, exotic being, and gently gathered the confidence to make your way around to its side of the river.
However, your plans were foiled.
Movement arose; the unicorn stirred itself to gallop across, not around, the lake.
You gaped at the fantastical event; its cloven silver hooves thrummed against the parting water as if it were thrashed ice, its horn beaming a moonlight aura that seemed to siphon energy from its twilit heart.
Its fetlocks came to a still as it halted in front of you, a gallop’s measure from your desirous gaze. You wanted to lurch and pet its mane, yet found yourself hypnotised in its illuminated features. Up close, the silver unicorn was even more magnetising than it had appeared moments ago.
Once again, relieving your anticipatory burden, the unicorn stepped watchfully to your reach. Now, the two of you were separated by a feathery hair; the closeness immediately washed you with assurance.
Somehow, a feeling awakened of recollection, like this was a disguised entity that you’d been familiarized with distinctly in the Earthen realm.
Otherwise, you couldn’t explain such resonance engulfing all of the ambience's fibres. You felt like a thread weaved into its fabric, ravelling inward and nearer, inching to the unicorn. Finally, you laid your hand on its soft neck, electrified by the hot touch.
It was odd; the creature looked so daunting and distant, though it hadn’t emitted the same coldness in its temperance; its skin was warm and inviting. You would’ve nuzzled into its majestic neck, had it not broken from your embrace.
You studied its watchful gaze, caroused in the memory of its motherly, comforting feeling as it galloped past you into the forest. Stared as its figure seamlessly blended with the mounting skyline, its body eventually dissipating, even as it benefited from the night’s bright backdrop.
Pensively, you traced the palm of the hand which brushed the benevolent entity; wistfully, you reflected that even in its physical absence, its tenderness left you with the assurance it watched somewhere unseen, and potentially had for days greatly preceding this encounter.
You tucked the sentiments into your heart, and strolled back into the whimsical grove of this indescribably entrancing domain.
With age came a curious trait called rationalisation—how humans grew less and less partial to possibility, pursuing the deceptively elusive emblem of maturity.
What was it to be mature? For you, it meant forsaking imagination, confining the breadth of life to simple, graspable truths.
Leaving the fabrics of your reality unquestioned—crushing those childlike wonders of something bigger, shattering, surreal.
You were in no jubilance to concede your imagination just yet—you desired to explore, venture, breach the fringes of normality.
And that’s how you wound up here, shrouded in the luminous marvel that was Alfheim.
Light cascaded from every angle, at the cusp of every bend and on the curlicues of every spiralling tree. The emerging moss was painted a brilliant hue, the critters ambling above it of an equally arresting vibrance.
No stretch of Alfheim’s forest bed was sparse of life, animal or floral, its lushness lit by a cosmic backdrop that faintly reposed behind lapping foliage.
You looked out to the vast pathway cloaked under thick forestry, flanked at either end by columns of trees. You ventured within; apprehensive at first, steps building resolve as you progressed deeper.
Deeper into what? This was a question you never dared to utter. Inquiry was a figment of the past, doubt binding itself to the narrow mind of the individual who’d never met such grandeur.
You welcomed the ethereality whole, gawking covertly at the passing elves, their placid expressions jolting your heartbeat. They were eerily distant, uncaring of your presence, yet so riveting in their disposition.
You traced their blonde tresses, the body of locks that scaled their backs to the forest floor. You breathed their musky notes, earthen and sapid. Took in their profiles, highlighting sharp noses, pointed chins, and perfectly hollowing contours. Averted their parsing gazes, feeling unworthy of merely glimpsing their towering, stunning frames.
Dazed, you parted through interlaced branches and vinery to test an alternate route; snarling branches hissed you away from peering any further. The ambience, the grand pathway, and essentially every element of the environment appeared to lead you to one mysterious location.
It enthralled you to be guided into a specially tailored sight—what might’ve been the gift at the end of your course? Ripples of water wafted to your ears, but it befuddled you to imagine a body of rain pour forming the gift that had been suspended from your senses for so long.
Nevertheless, you strode further. The wisps of green tickled your bare feet as you paced the grass, dirt tracking along your heels and warming it with a sticky paste. Naturally, you reflexed to wipe it off, but hovered once the sensation drew in—a calming, light salve that moistened your soles. Its uninvited embrace worked imperceptibly, lessening the toll of your purposeful gait to a lulled pinch.
You curled your toes to confirm you weren’t, indeed, walking on air—expectedly, your lightness was simply the magic of the Alfheim mud. You accepted its adhesion graciously and continued on your adventure to the luring boon.
A break in the forested skyline revealed a widening lake, reflecting the distantly clear sky in a blue glow. Trees loomed to a lesser mass as they faded to the background, rustling in your trail as you marked the end of the wide pathway.
You reached the lake.
And it was a divine view to behold; your vantage point graced perspective on a sparkling pool of water, palisaded at its perimeter by Alfheim’s circling forestry.
Out of leaves’ concealment, a grand moon shone its luminescence onto the celestial woodlands. The landscape was painted vividly in shades of all sorts, but what struck your interest was not the newly toned imagery.
It was the grazing mare, engrossing your attention with its mythical charm.
A horn protruded from its forehead, fashioned from crude silver. Harmonious to its magical appendage, the unicorn—you gawked it must’ve been one—bore skin and a mane comprising regally silver specklings. It modelled a cropped coat of pale blue fur, sombrer than its piercing crystal irises. You fell into its mesmerism, stunned when it became alerted to your regard; you felt sheepish to have disturbed such a serene portrait.
Hitherto your intrusion, the unicorn had locked itself into its dazzling mirage in the lucid waters—now, its eyes burrowed deeply into your direction, expression sagacious. It appeared to know everything and nothing all at once, a creature sequestered from the dredges of your native realm.
You wanted to make contact with this chaste, exotic being, and gently gathered the confidence to make your way around to its side of the river.
However, your plans were foiled.
Movement arose; the unicorn stirred itself to gallop across, not around, the lake.
You gaped at the fantastical event; its cloven silver hooves thrummed against the parting water as if it were thrashed ice, its horn beaming a moonlight aura that seemed to siphon energy from its twilit heart.
Its fetlocks came to a still as it halted in front of you, a gallop’s measure from your desirous gaze. You wanted to lurch and pet its mane, yet found yourself hypnotised in its illuminated features. Up close, the silver unicorn was even more magnetising than it had appeared moments ago.
Once again, relieving your anticipatory burden, the unicorn stepped watchfully to your reach. Now, the two of you were separated by a feathery hair; the closeness immediately washed you with assurance.
Somehow, a feeling awakened of recollection, like this was a disguised entity that you’d been familiarized with distinctly in the Earthen realm.
Otherwise, you couldn’t explain such resonance engulfing all of the ambience's fibres. You felt like a thread weaved into its fabric, ravelling inward and nearer, inching to the unicorn. Finally, you laid your hand on its soft neck, electrified by the hot touch.
It was odd; the creature looked so daunting and distant, though it hadn’t emitted the same coldness in its temperance; its skin was warm and inviting. You would’ve nuzzled into its majestic neck, had it not broken from your embrace.
You studied its watchful gaze, caroused in the memory of its motherly, comforting feeling as it galloped past you into the forest. Stared as its figure seamlessly blended with the mounting skyline, its body eventually dissipating, even as it benefited from the night’s bright backdrop.
Pensively, you traced the palm of the hand which brushed the benevolent entity; wistfully, you reflected that even in its physical absence, its tenderness left you with the assurance it watched somewhere unseen, and potentially had for days greatly preceding this encounter.
You tucked the sentiments into your heart, and strolled back into the whimsical grove of this indescribably entrancing domain.
This Story was written by Lohcca belongs to Spiral Horn Magic. Do not copy or steal.