Unicorn Tales (Historical)

“Tell me a story,” requested Everett as Sebastian tucked him into bed.

“What kind of story?” Sebastian asked smiling down at the sandy blonde haired boy, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“A true story.” Everett snuggled against the pillow and smiled a dimpled, sleepy smile that could melt any father’s heart. Sebastian smiled knowingly and began his tale.

“Once there was a boy…”

“Was the boy you?” interrupted Everett.

“Now this was a very long time ago, and the boy’s name was Pan,” continued Sebastian without directly answering the boy’s question. “The boy was a goatherd who lived in polis called Troy.”

“What’s a polis?”

Sebastian sighed with pretended exasperation, “I’ll never finish the story if I keep getting interrupted. A polis is a city kingdom. Anyway, the boy had a friend called Syrinx. She often came to visit Pan out in the fields as he was tending the herd of goats. Herding goats was not very fun for Pan. All he had to do was watch them to make sure they didn’t wander away or get eaten by wolves.”

“This isn’t the tale of the boy who called wolf is it?”

“No.”

“It isn’t a love story is it?”

“It’s a true story,” Sebastian assured him. “Now, Pan was not a goatherd by birth. In fact, he was born into a warrior family, but when he was six he started growing a horn on his head. Just like me,” Sebastian added, anticipating the young boy’s question. “His uncle (for his parents were dead) took this as a sign that Pan was special, but the polis leaders took it as a sign from the gods that he should work with goats.”

“By the time he was ten, Pan was very tired of watching goats. They never did anything interesting. They ate… they slept… they ate some more… they did what all animals do after they eat… and if Pan was lucky they didn’t get attacked by wolves. If he was really lucky, his friend Syrinx would come down to the field to play with him.

Syrinx was a beautiful girl. She had raven black hair and brown eyes so deep you could fall into them and drown. But Pan was too young to appreciate those kinds of features. What he appreciated was her stories. Syrinx didn’t just tell a story, she spun a story into a poem so vivid you could almost see it shimmering in the air. Sometimes Pan would turn the stories into songs to sing to the goats, but he was too nervous to ever sing them in front of people.

One day Pan was singing to the goats, when he realized there was someone singing along. He looked around, but could not find the source of the beautiful voice who was singing along. It sounded like it was coming from the center of the herd of goats, but that was impossible, unless one of the goats had learned to sing. Stranger things had happened, so Pan decided to investigate. He waded through the goats still singing, using his staff to push the goats out of the way until he came to the source of the voice.

It was Syrinx, down on her hands and knees, wearing an old goatskin on her back pretending to be a goat. Pan wasn’t upset that she would try to sneak up on him that way, but she had heard him singing! He was so embarrassed that he turned bright red. He was about to yell when she realized what was about to happen and leapt up more nimbly that even the goats could and ran away.

Pan chased after her. It took him longer to wade through the goats, but once they were both in the open, he was much faster than she and he soon overtook her. Right before she was caught, Syrinx threw herself into the reeds at the riverbank to hide and Pan was left with only a handful of broken reeds. Naturally he jumped in after her and crawled around until he found her by the sound of her giggling. By that time he was too tired to be angry and he too was laughing. They lay in the reeds laughing until their stomachs hurt, and then waiting until they caught their breath again.

When at last she could speak again, Syrinx held up one of the reeds she had broken off, ‘Did you know that these make a sound when you blow on the end?’ Pan shook his head and Syinx demonstrated for him.” Sebastian whistled through his teeth to imitate the sound of the reed.

“‘Let me try,’ Pan said and broke off a piece of his own. Pan’s sounded a little different, a little higher.” Sebastian demonstrated by whistling again.

“The two of them tested several different lengths of reeds when suddenly Syrinx motioned for him to be quiet.” Sebastian held his own finger to his lips to indicate a dramatic pause.

“There was a growling noise. It was a wolf! It had heard the whistling and came to investigate! Pan pulled Syrinx up and the two of them ran toward where the rest of the goatherds were, yelling all the way. Pan, again, was faster than Syrinx, but the wolf was faster yet. It snipped at Syrinx’ heel and she tripped. Pan turned on his heel to try to help her. He kicked the wolf’s snout as it tried to bite Syrinx’s leg, losing his own balance in the process. He saw a flash of grey, heard shouting, felt a pain in his shoulder, then he fainted.”

Everett’s eyes were wide.

“They were all safe,” Sebastian assured him quickly, realizing he had gotten a little too caught up in his story.

A woman standing in the doorway gently cleared her throat, letting Sebastian know that she did not approve of this type of bed time story.

“Well, it turns out that the other goatherds got there in time to save the children from the wolf. Neither of the children were even injured, because of Pan’s newfound healing ability,” Sebastian finished lamely.

“What happened next?” Everett asked innocently, his hazel eyes reflecting the light from the candle flickering on the nightstand.

Sebastian shook his head, but at the same time leaned forward and kissed his forehead, masking a whispered, “Later.”

The woman, too, came to kiss the boy good night.

After they had left the room, she whispered to Sebastian, “If he has nightmares, it’s all on your head.”