Author's something-resembling-a-note-hi. This is probably what will be considered an unconventional sequel to Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn. Probably true. But this is what came to me. So, please read and review, and on the extreme off chance you actually like it, I do have a sequel idea. So, don't sue me, you know what's his, and anything unfamiliar is mine. 'k? -cantalyne

Behind

She paused at the top of the hill, surveying the scene around her. Behind - no, hind ward it was all gone, and she couldn't return. She could explain it, but no one who would listen wanted to understand, and it was vital that the listener wanted to understand.
So she kept her behind to herself.
Below. Below was a possibility. It was a large forest, enveloped in spring. Spring was a good time; she could appreciate the quality of the season and the beauty before her.
To either side, nothing of interest, mostly extensions of the lovely forest.
So. Below or behind.
Not surprisingly, she chose below.
Halfway down the hill, she stopped. The mild breeze caressed the leaves, and the gentle, rustling sound engulfed her. It was so terribly loud in her ears. She held her breath and waited.
Look. There it was again.
Oh dear, she thought, I had best leave, and quickly, too. We're not sociable creatures, exactly, not that we're mean, but I'm sure this one would like me to leave his forest alone. She turned on slender legs to go.
"Wait!" A panting sound. "Wait sister, you needn't go!"
My, now there were two of them. Odd. Young, obviously, shining-new young, not yet fully adult. Coats still pearly white, glowingly innocent, like unused chalk. (She smiled faintly at the analogy.) Their horns gleamed blindingly in the sun as they spiraled toward the sky, looking delicate enough to break with ones teeth.
Well. I'm sure they'll let me go. Please don't ask for my story.
"Hail, sister, and well met." The younger of them came to a sliding stop before her.
"Well met," she answered carefully.
The other of them just stood silently with his mouth hanging slightly open. The younger, a female kicked him lightly in the hock. "Psst, Atahlione, say something!"
A unicorn named?
He called Atahlione jerked his jaw shut with a start. "Well met," he said bashfully. "I'm terribly sorry about my lack of eloquence. It's just none of the other unicorns in the forest are as beautiful as you. What is your name?"
It was her turn to start. "Name? Name? Since when did unicorns need names? And by what do you mean others? Rarely is there more than one unicorn in the same forest." Perhaps she didn't mean to speak sharply, but it came out that way.
Atahlione was unperturbed. "Well, Gaberia, I suppose we ought to take her to Koshayn?"
Oh my, I'm so horribly confused.
Gaberia nodded. "Of course we must. What fun! And here we thought all the unicorns alive were right here in this forest." She beamed. "Well," she said, "come along."
She was left to follow Gaberia and Atahlione into the forest. She saw no other alternative, and was rather fearful of these strange new arrangements.
What had become of the unicorn?

She was in a clearing. Gaberia and Atahlione had offered no explanation and she had asked for none. They had told her to wait, and then left.
She was afraid. And regretful. Always regretful. But she couldn't be regretful. But she was. She shook her head; it made no difference.
There was a sound to her right; a sound so slight only another unicorn that was paying very close attention could hear it. She caught a glimpse of white in the underbrush, and then the trees seemed to part like the Red Sea. (Although that was all in her mind.) A terrifyingly magnificent young stallion came into the clearing, perhaps two years older than her.
She had always thought herself very old, but then, she had never had anyone to compare herself to. This unicorn seemed older than her, yet young, and she wondered if she too was that way.
"So." He was speaking. "Who are you?"
She turned her head. "What does it matter?" she said in a melancholy voice.
He stamped a hoof tensely. "It matters to me."
"Why?" she said in the same tone. "Why are you here like this? I see others, as I look through the trees. Yet they cannot be unicorns. Unicorns are solitary, they are alone. What do I see?"
He shook his mane in agitation. "What is your name?" he said tightly.
"Why do they have names?" she inquired.
"I will explain," he said impatiently, "if you tell me your name."
She looked at him. He looked at her. Her eyes were heavy with pain, his with responsibility. Something in them compelled her to reply. "Amalthea," she said without thinking. A little shudder of horror swept through her body.
"Problem?" he said, noticing.
"Nothing," she snapped.
"Very well." He shifted his weight. "I am Koshayn, leader of the unicorns."
"Unicorns do not have leaders," she added to her list.
He glared at her. "I am warning you, the story is very long. You do not want to hear it."
She neighed shrilly in indignation. "I demand it."
Koshayn flattened his ears. "Fine," he said testily. "You shall hear it, Amalthea."
She shivered again.

"A unicorn rescued us. We do not know her, if the truth be known. But she freed us, and we owe her our freedom. We also owe her our lifestyle, which she has changed forever.
"You say unicorns are solitary. This was true. But upon our release, we did not know what to do with ourselves. We had been in the sea so very long, been one and the same with the wave foam for lives. We were unicorns, but we were not unicorns. As you have gathered.
"So we organized ourselves somehow, as much as it hurt. We trekked to this large forest, and lived as a herd of simple horses. It was not the way of the unicorn, but to separate would be painful; would be like smashing the wave foam on the rocks. So we stayed together in our forest. In such close quarters we met the same every day, and so we gave ourselves names, in the manner of men, and that hurt too. But it was done, and it helped.
"And finally, someone decided we needed a lead stallion. And because I had been useful in getting us here, the eldest of the unicorns chose me. And now they have decided they need officials, advisors, a lead mare, among other things. They're working on it. But we are different now. That's all."
"That wasn't very long," said Amalthea, cocking her head.
"The concept is long," Koshayn said gruffly, and turned away.
"But how can you do it?" she cried, control snapping like a twig in a gale. "How can you go about your daily lives knowing you are only half yourselves?" How can I do it?
"You are bothering me," he growled. "And I tell you, that is dangerous. You do not understand. We are what we are because of her. Go away, but do not leave the forest. All unicorns are to remain together. The decision was made by all unicorns, and you are one of us. Go."
She was happy to oblige.

You are one of us. You are one of us. You are....
No! She pushed the thought roughly away from her, gesturing wildly with her horn as if the physical movement would drive it away. But still it echoed in her mind over the swishing of the spiral cutting the wind.
You are one of us. You are one of us.
But I'm not, she answered with despair. Not one. Not 'us.'
The trees bent around her, scornful, daring her to try to escape. Escape. Escape. To whom? To where? It's everywhere.
You are one of us. You....
Angrily she sprang to her feet and shook out her mane. It was night now, her first night with the other unicorns. Well, you found them. That was what you wanted, wasn't it? And now the stars blinked brightly down upon her, winking with secrets waiting to be shared. She turned away. I need to take a walk.
She wandered blindly, threading gracefully between the trunks as if in a trance. Calling, calling... no. Never again.
"You there. Stop."
The voice of a guardsman, not panicked, or loud, or forceful. She stopped.
"Name?"
Voice. You are one of us, you....
"Am - Amalthea." No. No.
A sighing noise, the fall of a leaf, floated to her ears. "You again. Where you come from, is it acceptable to wander the woods at night? Go back to sleep, Amalthea."
Koshayn. "Very well," she answered, her tone stiff and proud, "I shall obey." Her high voice mocked him, stressing the words with contempt for this way of life her people had adopted, her eyes bright with untold sorrow.
She saw the blood before she felt the pain, scarlet droplets painting striking red lines down the shining white hock. She stared, detached, as the pure colors bounced of each other, deep red and virgin white. Then the agony seared over her, and she stumbled, her mind numb with the hurt of it all; her vision black before she regained control of herself.
"A unicorn's hoof is a hard thing," Koshayn said quietly, towering over her. "I suppose you have never before been on the receiving end of a good kick." Now he mocked her, mocked her solitude, her memory, her lost naiveté. She trembled with rage.
"Who are you to mock me as you do?" she said shrilly, on the verge of crying. "Who are you to torment me with your words? What have you seen that could possibly compare with what lies behind my eyes? Behind me, there is nothing. Leave me to my own grief, do not mock me besides." A single tear welled up in her eye, but she shook it way. If you have become human enough to cry, no magic in the world can change you back....
He slammed her body up against a tree in another sudden motion. "You," he breathed, "what are you? You are unicorn on the outside. Are you a shape shifter? You display emotions as if you were a man inside." He pressed her harder against the tree, pressed till her ribs squeaked and her lungs burned.
"Unicorns," she gasped, desperately gulping for air, "they feel emotions."
He released her; she sunk gratefully to the ground. He dipped his head and applied it harshly to her snowy face, forcing her head up so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. His were big and bold yet worried. Hers were bottomless, like the sea, and in pain.
A long moment passed in this manner.
"Yes," he said finally, softly, "but they cannot regret." He left her, and the unicorn sank into the unconscious oblivion she craved.

She awoke to throbbing muscles and aching ribs. It hurt her merely to breathe. Dimly she recalled the events of the past day. We are gone, she thought sadly. She was able to grasp that much from the dusky recesses of her brain. We are no longer unicorns. Too much has been lost.... Maybe I could talk to a few, see if they know.
It was about noon now. She gingerly rose to her feet, easing her limbs into place. Koshayn... the thought flitted through her mind unbidden... she shook it away.
A silent shadow among the trees, she flowed between them as though unaware of their presence, stopping only when she spied Atahlione and Gaberia playing in a clearing. "Hello," she said quietly, her gaze steady.
Atahlione blushed. "Well met," he stammered, blushing. "You are Amalthea, correct? I have heard many talking of you this morning. 'Who is the mysterious stranger?' they say."
"The also say, 'Her beauty is unsurpassable, even among other unicorns,'" Gaberia added.
"Oh," she said to herself, uninterested. Her time to love had come and gone, and she had left it without fulfilling its potential. Change me back... change me back... "Were you born in the wave foam?" she questioned.
"Oh, yes," Gaberia answered. "Atahlione, too. The only ones born there; we are the youngest. They weren't used to close quarters then, you see. The ocean still calls us, but I try not to listen. It has taken a long time to resume normalcy already."
"Normalcy?" the unicorn said, shaking slightly. "Close quarters are not normalcy for a unicorn. Unicorns are meant-"
"Gaberia, Atahlione," a deep voice interrupted, "your mothers are looking for you. Go on."
She closed her eyes. Him again. The two youngsters were quick to obey Koshayn.
"Well." The voice came from behind. "Open your eyes, Amalthea."
Must you say my name? She opened her eyes.
She held her head erect as the lead stallion paced quick circles about her. "You were telling the young ones of the old ways of the unicorn." She did not deny it. "Don't you know it is safer to keep it from them? We have changed, we have grown, our past is behind us -"
"No, please, stop!" she broke down sobbing, real tears coursing in sapphire rivers down her cheeks.
Koshayn stared at her in disbelief; he touched his horn to her cheek, creating a rainbow in her tears. "No. It can't be."
"Koshayn!" The call came from outside the clearing. "The elders are awaiting your presence at the meeting!"
He turned. "Do not move, do not speak. I will return in a moment." He left the clearing in haste.

He shivered slightly as the chilly breeze of early spring flowed about him. He stepped, regal, dignified, into the clearing, his horn pointed towards the sky. "It rains tonight," he addressed the elders in general. "I feel the thunder."
"Ah yes, ah yes," the elders were quick to agree, "we feel the thunder, too."
"Thunder has no bearing on today's meeting," the oldest of the elders, Fowe, stated. "We have assembled to discuss the appointment of several unicorns to office."
Koshayn shifted his feet. "Very well."
The lead stallion seems distracted - that is not like him at all. "I would like to propose Jrue as a member of your advisors' court," Fowe began.
"I nominate Raskin, as well as Iyree," tried another.
The meeting continued in a whirlwind around him. He was especially snappish, impatient, and the elders ran through all orders of business. "And now," Fowe said at last, "for our last order of business." There was an embarrassingly audible sigh of relief for the assembled elders. "The honorable position of lead mare."
"What?" said Koshayn.
"I have a proposal," said one of the younger members.
"What?" said Koshayn.
"Go ahead," encouraged Fowe.
"The pretty new mare. You know her; what's her name... the one everyone is saying is too beautiful for this earth, even for a unicorn."
"Amalthea is her name," someone else supplied.
"What?" said Koshayn.
"I strongly advise it," another member said.
"What?" said Koshayn.
"I second the motion," came a voice from across the clearing.
"Hold on!" Koshayn found his tongue. "Amalthea? She's insubordinate, she's crazy, she's -"
"Lovely, lovely," said Fowe, approving. "I've seen her. She's as beautiful as the unicorn who rescued us all."
"As yes, she was gorgeous," sighed another. "I caught a glimpse of her, you know, before she ran away."
"But -" Koshayn tried again.
"You know what happened to her, didn't you?" gossiped a third. "I heard it from a butterfly. A magician turned her into a human, Lady something-or-rather."
"No!" gasped the elders. Koshayn tried to use the pause to start listing his arguments, but the other unicorn had an audience and wasn't about to let go.
"They brought her to Haggard's castle to find us, and she fell in love with Prince Lir, and then the magician changed her back or something, and she rescued us," he finished triumphantly. (If Amalthea of heard she would have been of the opinion that he had butchered the story horribly.)
"I wonder what happened to her," someone asked.
"I wonder what being a human did to her," mused another with a small shudder.
Something sparked in Koshayn's brain at this statement.
"Anyway," Fowe said firmly, breaking into Koshayn's thoughts, "a beautiful lead mare would be a political advantage, and - where are you going?"
"Excuse me!" Koshayn was already gone.

She found them again. She had grown quite fond of them. So young and pure, so innocent. If only she could be like them again. "Do you miss the sea?"
Gaberia cocked her head. "Do I miss the sea?" she echoed.
"I do," Atahlione answered. "It's calling my heart, always."
"Atahlione!" Gaberia was shocked. "What if Koshayn hears you?"
"Do you miss the sea?" Atahlione asked defiantly.
"I... well... yes."
"Go to it," Amalthea said. My heart is always calling me to my forest... and to Lir... and... somewhere else? "Go to the sea."
"Oh, but we couldn't," Gaberia said quickly. "Koshayn says everyone must stay here."
"Koshayn wishes you to be happy." Somehow, she believed it. "Follow your heart."
"But-" protested Atahlione.
"Follow your heart." As I will mine.
Atahlione stared, wide-eyed, at Gaberia. A moment's pause; Gaberia nodded. They cantered slowly out of the forest. Amalthea heard a rustling noise behind her. She whirled and started at the bearer of the sound.
She shrank from him. "They are going to the sea!" she cried determinedly. "They belong there! They must go where their hearts tell them too!" Yet even as she cowered, she was drawn to his side. It was the light. The light in his eyes.
Koshayn stared after Atahlione and Gaberia for a long moment. In one big motion, he wrapped his neck around Amalthea's face as she cried again. "I understand," he murmured, nuzzling her cheek, "I understand."