Chapter 5: Magical Horrors
“Hello?”
I feel around for something, anything. My hands land on the table, and I edge around it to find the light switch. Does the detention even have one? The last time I checked, wonderland didn’t dive into darkness. I lift my hands cautiously off the table and am dumbfounded by how it lights up. It has a red glow around the edges, and it occurs to me that I might be blocking something. I lower it, and come into eye contact with the red eyes I dreamed about not so long ago. A shadow hound, I recall. I pinch myself, still staring as it walks around the table. I felt it. I pinch again, just to make sure.
“Oh, this is no dream, young one. No dream at all.”
The voice is husky and the eyes flicker angrily.
“Your kind took what was ours. Stole it from right under our noses. We've found a way to escape, and we'll eventually take back what is ours. It might be weeks or years or decades. But, we will get it.”
It grows louder and louder with each word, barely veiling the fury behind it.
“Give it back, Lucinda, and we won’t harm you or your friends.”
Its voice suddenly calms down, its tone almost gentle. I hate how my answer comes out quavering.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never s-stole anything from you!”
“They’ve kept you in the dark then. Predictable,” it hisses, “they won’t be able to hide it from their people for long. We will expose them. Just you wait little one, just you wait.”
The eyes fade as I shiver. I try to grasp onto my memory of the conversation, but it slips away. All I can remember were its strange eyes and creepy voice. As if time had stopped, Willow continues, completely normal.
“You seem like a freshman. First time here?”
I nod, still distracted.
“Well, you’re in for a surprise, then. Detention ranges from brewing disgusting potions to ballroom dancing. Just depends on the mood Mrs. Greycloud is in.”
The teacher claps her hands.
“Today, I have decided you will be helping me groom the unicorns!”
Everyone groans. What’s so bad about brushing magnificent creatures? I look around, half expecting a door to the stables to appear.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Oh, sorry for the newcomer. We have our very own unicorns here in Detention. I warn you, they are a bit pesky and trod on your toes. Right this way, please.”
She waves her wand and a door of wooden planks appears, a unicorn silhouette painted in the middle. Behind the door is a huge plain, dotted with colorful spring flowers. Tiny white figures could be seen in the distance, near a waterfall with some fruit trees. Mrs. Greycloud casts a spell and the terrain zooms towards us, the unicorns suddenly right in front of our group. Their coats are like white silk, glossy in the sunlight. Their manes are different from a typical unicorn. Instead of silver, each is dyed in a different color of the rainbow. Closest to us rests a red and an orange one. High in the skies, yellow, green, and blue fly.
I ask curiously, “Why are their manes dyed?”
“These unicorns are special. They each have different abilities coordinated with their manes. Flitz can control fire, Marmalade manipulates earth, Sunny can conduct light, Floria manages plants, Coral can command water and Violet controls the void.”
Willow interrupts Mrs. Greycloud, “Speaking of which, where is Violet? She normally likes to rest behind the waterfall. She’s the most reckless of them all and dive-bombs into the rocks, only to open a portal to the void at the last second. It’s terrifying to watch.”
“Ah, you’re right, Willow! Everyone, go scout the area.”
We are divided into two groups, boys and girls. Willow leads the way, as she is the oldest and knows the most about this place. She heads down a windy path made of bright white bricks. It reminds me of the person I don’t know here.
“Who’s the boy with the white hair?”
Willow muses, “Hm? Oh, that’s Sullivan, Myra’s older brother. We’re in English class together, I think.”
“That boy is practically invisible,” Evernly cuts in.
Ignoring her, I ask Willow, “Do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, a little sister.”
“How about you, Evernly?”
“Don’t include me in your conversation. And for your limited information, I’m an only child.”
Silence arises after that. We keep walking until we reach a lake. It glistens from the -indoor?- sunlight, its purple waters rippling as fish swim. Willow explains why we’re here.
“Each unicorn has its own pool. They are quite full of themselves and tend to be possessive, so they have their own little water source to keep the fighting at bay. Violet spends all her free time around here when she’s not off working and transporting things. Keep an eye out for footprints. She’s gotta be somewhere.”
We split our group. Willow takes north, Evenly takes west and I take east. Wondering around, I spot a patch of trees. I notice a few hoof prints that go deeper into it. I follow it curiously. Right up until the footprints end. This means Violet must have flown on from here. Even though it doesn’t make sense, Willow said that unicorns can glide across the sky for certain periods. It’s normally ten to thirty minutes before they have to rest for an hour. Unicorns fly for two reasons. But, Violet has a third option. To open the void, she must be dropped down from an extremely high point. I stoop down onto the grass and examine it. When she enters the void, she brushes off purple glittering dust from her mane. No sign of any glitter here. The other reason is to either play or flee. Since no other unicorns are allowed here, that leaves only one option. I pull out my wand and whisper a simple tracking spell. An orb of warm yellow appears, circling me for a moment. Then it rushes away. I tear through the trees after it, trying to keep up with an entity that can move past things like a ghost. It stops in the middle of a clearing, hovering over a small figure. I dart towards it. Violet lays crumpled on the ground, her mane grey, her coat dull, her eyes lifeless. Her horn was torn off violently, leaving jagged edges. Two red spots mark her side, glaring at me. I scream.