To my knowledge, I’m the only one left, just one part of what was once a humming, spinning wholeness. Legend notes the root causes as bad manners and ill temper. Surely other things contributed? All my people were slaughtered, an entire kingdom stopped in its tracks!

But I get ahead of myself…               

Time passed. Hope of a blessed child flickered ever dimmer. Each year brought more silver to the king’s coal black curls. The still-beautiful queen lost her rich, dusky glow. Still, their eyes shone bright enough for each other, though no child’s slippery limbs splashed and soaked the royal bath, no tiny feet danced the edges of the woven rug in the queen’s parlor. They lived their lives in murmurs.

Then a change.

The queen’s body waxed to fullness, shining happiness as we all became terribly busy. There were dresses full as sails to be created, new shawls for late nights, tiny caps and gowns and blankets in toppling piles. Wheels spun, looms clacked, and needles of steel and bone flashed in sun- and moonshine. Finally, the babe was born.

At the christening, all fae wisewomen were invited to view her: child laughing like a brook, smile wide as the swan’s wing at dusk, rosy cheeks a sunrise warming a darkling night sky.

All save one was invited. You know the rest. I am all that remains of the spinning wheels hacked to pieces and burned. Hardly a threat, but I tell the tale, awaiting a next chapter.

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2025)

Many thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr for their photo prompt, THE UNICORN CHALLENGE.  01/17/2025). No more than 250 words in length.