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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Unicorn Quests - 37. Chapter 37

We herded the foals between us. It was strange being back in my body, but at the same time, I’d lived most of my life as a unicorn. It should feel natural.

Why didn’t it? Maybe it was shock. My mind couldn’t quite catch up, and my horn ached.

I had to think about the placement of each hoof as I trotted behind my family, keeping them all in view as I swept the forest for threats at the same time. Dizzy spells swept over me, and I blinked rapidly trying to keep the forest in focus when the trees wavered. I’d gotten too used to how slow my two-legged form had traveled, though, because I almost missed the signs of the place where we’d left Tinn and Wenn when we returned to their hollowed out tree.

It was harder to move the limbs I’d used to disguise their hollow without hands. I nudged them apart with my horn and kicked at them until I could stick my head inside the dim space. “Tinn?

He and Wenn were curled up together. Tinn raised his head, and Wenn opened his eyes. “You are here,” Tinn said.

“We told you we’d be back.” I eyed them both. “Can you crawl out? If Londe and I kneel down, maybe you can climb onto our backs?”

Maybe having a human shape had come in handy. Then again, it wasn’t like unicorns were routinely going around letting other Beings ride on their backs.

Tinn helped Wenn who was still weak. Wenn was swaying on his hands and knees, but he was awake. “Thank you, Wenn, for what you did for me.” I hadn’t had the chance to tell him before. Pleasure swamped me that I could do it now.

I let Tinn move past me toward Londe, but I stayed close to Wenn. “You are a pure soul, Chasen. You deserve to live a happy life with your family.”

He slumped to the ground. “Hold on. Just… give me a moment.”

“Are you okay, Wenn?” Concern colored my voice, and I almost called Tinn back. He’d said Wenn would be better. Why wasn’t he better yet? If being a conduit was something their kind could do, their inherent magic, should it drain a locus like Wenn was?

“I will be soon.” Wenn rolled onto his side and gestured for me to come closer. “I know,” he whispered.

“What?” I wasn’t sure what he said. He knew? I must have misheard him. I knelt, another wave of dizziness and the not-quite-right sense swamping me. Four legs were harder to get used to again than two. That was all.

“I know,” he repeated. “I can sense you. I know you’re there. I know what your pet did, why you ran, even the little bauble you dropped that Tinn didn’t sense. I wasn’t quite unconscious when we left to find the foals.”

“What?” I reared my head back, tilting it to stare at him. He wasn’t making any sense. Was he delirious? Dreaming? “I don’t underst—”

“You used magic to lure the foals after you, then made it so easy for Chasen to get what he wanted, didn’t you? His soul returned, his unicorn form… his horn.” Wenn coughed, closing his eyes briefly. They shone when he reopened them. “Of course he’d use that to kill you instead of a human blade.”

My mouth was open, my nostrils flaring, and if every hair in my mane didn’t already stand erect, they would be quivering in shock and fear.

He was talking about what happened with Balasamar. How could he know all that? “What are you saying?”

“I’m still connected to him, Chasen. The warlock. And through the magic to Balasamar and you.”

“Balasamar’s dead.”

“His body is dead. His soul? No, that’s still with you. You freed it, triggered the final spell he’d had the warlock put on his aging body so he could find a new one.”

“What?” My heart pounded and my ears laid back, but I couldn’t stop hearing his words. Not if… not if they were true.

“He’s there, inside you, waiting to take control. All it will take is one final step, one last trigger, to end the spell.”

“No! I can’t lose him. I thought… it was over!” Londe cried out.

I’d been so focused on Wenn I hadn’t realized my family could also hear him. The scent of their fear and panic swamped the small grove of trees.

“Papa?”

“Stay back.” They couldn’t touch me. That was it. The feeling of wrongness, the sense of not being quite right. It wasn’t my form.

I was polluted. Harboring a murderous human bent on power and destruction.

What would that do to me? To my family? I looked at them over my shoulder. Tears stained Colette’s cheeks, and Marces was trembling. Both foals were leaning hard against their pater, but my mate looked ready to break.

“What is the trigger?” I asked desperately. Maybe I could avoid it. Maybe I could just go away. From them, from everyone.

It would be worth it, to keep them safe.

Wenn reached out one tiny hand to my nose. “Me,” he said, right as his palm touched my head.

Darkness rose around us, and maniacal laughter rent the air. Wenn was all I could see, but I could feel immense satisfaction, gloating pleasure, and a glee that was completely foreign. They weren’t my emotions, even as I felt them.

“Thank you, locus, for freeing me to start anew,” I said in a voice also not my own.

“I said I was still connected to your warlock, you piece of scum.” Wenn was panting, his fingers cramping and spasming, digging into my sensitive nose. “And he’s pissed you left him to die.”

Copyright © 2019 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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