In a Far Away Land
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ββββββββββββββββββThe Licorne, beings of moonβs magic. Born from her first tears, tasked with guardians of knowledge and nature. It was those first does and mares who created the great Licorne monarchy, claiming all the lands the Moon touched. The first chateau constructed was known only as Trianta - the birthplace. A great castle was erected around the La Mare de Lunaire - the pool of moon-blessed water that transformed their very bodies. An enchanted forest, the first of its kind, grew in an evening, towering redwoods, spindled birch, and fluffy lilac trees disguised the mighty castle, keeping the Licornes safe.
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ββββββββββββββββββIn times of olde, the Licornes would leave their forest every moon's cycle, holding their lanterns of Bleeding Hearts and leaving blessings behind to the mortal folk. Traveling in great numbers, many though these creatures, not quite equine, nor quite cervine, were simply ghosts, illusions, apparitions. But they were real, blood enchanted sparkling roseate flowed through their veins. Tales began, telling of their leaders and their coats that mirrored the silver moon. These beautiful Queens who let the dying rest, brought babes breath, created magical potions and herbal remedies that cured the most grotesque of ailments. The Licorne was heralded as the savior, those who protected and cared for their people, disappearing in a flash.
ββββββββββββββββββEventually, the chateau that was once their finest home became only one of the many castles the Licornes ruled from, spreading themselves all across their domain. This brought the eyes of other mortals, ones whose hearts were far more sinister than they first appeared. Wars raged upon the horizon, but the Licorne queens, ever kind and gentle, remained on the outskirts, caring for their people. Yet, they would not be devoured and turned into a shallow vassal for another empire. They even turned their noses at the other blessed folk, retreating into their forests of powerful magic, almost unaware that they were the next to be hunted.
As the kingdoms around the Licorne's lands grew, so did their envy of the opulence and comfort that their people welcomed. The eyes of empires turned upon the Licornes, seeking to take over the small, wealthy nation. The last queen with a coat of white was slaughtered in cold blood. Lies had been spread on the outskirts of her lands, of her greed, of false bloodlust. So her people feared her, forgetting the times of old, when the Licornes would come from their forests, giving blessings and soothing sickness. The Queen, too noble, too proud, absconded her enchanted forest, seeking to prove she was just and kind. So they killed her. As her blood spilled onto the grasses of her lands, a grove so bountiful grew from her very blood.
It was the beginning of the end, then. The Licornes were now hunted, forcing them into towering bastions. The lies and curses continued, dwindling their numbers even in hiding. Until one day, a fire broke out in the great Licorne city, and the race was wiped from existence. The Licorne's magic seemed to be gone, snuffed out by envy and greed. Still, there are still rumors that one yet lives - the Lost Princess, secluded within that lone castle protecting the pool of magic, a girl of fairytales.
