The Celestine’s lanterns burn steady but dim tonight, their golden light flickering across the stalls and pathways. Shadows stretch long between the enclosures, catching on the bars of cages and the shimmer of wards woven through the air. Somewhere far off, a creature calls—low and mournful—and the sound rolls through the twilight like thunder.
The unicorns are uneasy long before the noise comes. Their hooves strike the stone in a restless cadence, ears twitching toward sounds Lena can’t hear, eyes gleaming like shards of glass in the lanternlight. Even the air feels tense; thick, like the hush before a storm. Every shift of their weight sends dust and straw whispering across the ground, and when Lena murmurs soft reassurances, her voice feels swallowed by the endless twilight that presses in from beyond the gardens.
Lena’s hand stills mid-motion, the hay slipping between her fingers. The unicorn nearest her—silver-maned and wide-eyed—lets out a sudden, sharp snort, muscles coiling tight beneath its pale skin. Then, from deeper within the gardens, a crash breaks the fragile calm. Metal twists, something heavy splinters, and the echo of a gate slamming against its hinges rings through the air.
The reaction is immediate. The unicorns rear and scatter, hooves flashing, breath steaming in the dim light. One lashes out against the stall door, another bolts sideways, nearly knocking Lena from her feet. Lanterns swing wildly on their hooks, throwing shards of light across the walls as the entire enclosure dissolves into chaos: panic spreading like fire from one creature to the next. And beneath the clatter and cries, something else begins to move. A deep, rhythmic sound—heavy paws on earth—rolling closer through the shadows.
The unicorns are uneasy long before the noise comes. Their hooves strike the stone in a restless cadence, ears twitching toward sounds Lena can’t hear, eyes gleaming like shards of glass in the lanternlight. Even the air feels tense; thick, like the hush before a storm. Every shift of their weight sends dust and straw whispering across the ground, and when Lena murmurs soft reassurances, her voice feels swallowed by the endless twilight that presses in from beyond the gardens.
Lena’s hand stills mid-motion, the hay slipping between her fingers. The unicorn nearest her—silver-maned and wide-eyed—lets out a sudden, sharp snort, muscles coiling tight beneath its pale skin. Then, from deeper within the gardens, a crash breaks the fragile calm. Metal twists, something heavy splinters, and the echo of a gate slamming against its hinges rings through the air.
The reaction is immediate. The unicorns rear and scatter, hooves flashing, breath steaming in the dim light. One lashes out against the stall door, another bolts sideways, nearly knocking Lena from her feet. Lanterns swing wildly on their hooks, throwing shards of light across the walls as the entire enclosure dissolves into chaos: panic spreading like fire from one creature to the next. And beneath the clatter and cries, something else begins to move. A deep, rhythmic sound—heavy paws on earth—rolling closer through the shadows.
