“Two trees once stood in an ancient time when the tendrils of man’s society had yet to reach the extents of the world. These great trees had grown since a time so long ago that even the eldest of mortal beings could only remember them as the great ones that reached out into the heavens. The branches of the trees reached out to the outer realms beyond this one, the realms that so many have confused as heaven, dimensions, and other fallacies.

“The trees stood serenely in silent groves of stillness. Solid, they stood, waiting for nothing but the darkness that came with man and society to wither their roots. The roots of the trees once connected through the mantle of the Earth and created a balance of the forces and energies that flow around the Earth and were guided through it. The planet was not bombarded by the many objects that endanger other worlds.

“As the weaker, smaller of the two trees gave in to the corruption, the roots finally rotted away enough that the great size and imbalance of the tree caused it to tumble down. When the pure roots grew exposed to the outer air, though, a great gift was given to the world and the remaining tree as a result of the smaller tree’s death. The roots melted away and born there, at the base of the now dead tree, were the first of my kind.

“My ancient ancestors, of which my soul was one, then became a part of this world. They travelled the Earth and found their way to the remaining great tree. They defended that tree from the assault that nearly destroyed it. After many cycles in which the unicorns fought a desperate defense, they finally gained the strength and advantage to turn the tide.”

You interrupt before the story gets to out of hand, “Assault by whom? What makes the tree important?”

It forms one of its hands into the shape of a budding tree, fingers splayed out, “This world is tied to the Great Tree. If that tree should wither and die, this world would not be far behind in doing so. Do not worry about those that assaulted it. Hopefully, you shall never have to worry about such beings in your life.

“At that point, my ancestors created three castes. The first cast given honor was the Watchers. The Watchers were believed to be the wisest and the best at foreseeing future events. The members of this caste were given the duty of command and defense of the last tree.

“The second caste created were the Wardens. The Wardens were seen as the staunchest and hardiest of our kind. They were given task to spread throughout the outer world and defend the innocent from the reach of darkness. The darkness of your human souls and the expansion of that delirium threatens the health of the great tree.”

“What makes someone innocent?” you ask curiously.

Myst rubs at its chin, “And that is the struggle I am currently faced with myself. It’s not really a question that has been fully addressed.

“The final caste created is the one I have the biggest problem with. The Slayers were given the task of purging. The purity of their souls and the strength of their wills gave them the most difficult task. They remain in seclusion from the world, training and preparing for the most dire of times. When they are called into the world by the Watchers, no one is safe outside the defenders of the tree, the Unicorns. All beings outside of the unicorn’s lives are forfeit and it is time to wipe the slate clean and begin again.”

You shake your head, marveling at the mythical details and then at the shock of the tasks of the Slayers, “that sounds terrible.”

“Terrible. Not a word I thought to use previously. The only word that has dominated my mind is... question.”

You find that you have grown completely distracted from patching up your wounds. All the supplies sit around you on the couch and the small coffee table with the three good legs and one bent leg. You find yourself staring at the hood that Mysticalis still wears. You find that rude and odd, being that you are now indoors.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

You still don’t see any more detail, just the general outlines of facial features. There is a mystique there that draws you in. Your head cocks to the side and you find your head learning further and further towards your shoulder, against your will, trying to discern the face more clearly. You lean forward on the soft, dusty cushion.

You finally find your voice, “I’ve got to know. I don’t want to be rude, but...are you a man or a woman? I keep wanting to say he or her or she or... well”

Mysticalis leans back away from you just a little, as if it feels slightly awkward. “I suppose you could say that I am neither or that I am both, but I’m certainly not a he or a she. I’m... different.”

As Myst started to speak, you felt your heart skip a beat. You feel a supernatural attraction pulling you in like gravity does an object that gets too close. You almost feel let down that Myst is not of the opposite sex, but at the same time, this being is an alien to you. It seems that biology doesn’t work quite the same with cryptozoological mythical beings. Considering the way your blood is pumping and your face is turning red, you think you can accept these facts.

It stands up and walks away to look out a window, dragging you out of your daze with a cough.

You return your attention to the antibiotic ointment and the soft, calming sound of the creature’s voice.

It continues, “Now, the castes have remained separate for many centuries at a time. Only when one of my kind is reborn, does it have any contact with the Watchers. The Watchers seek to keep a pure mind and sense of direction with as little contact beyond the great tree as possible. The Slayers, after rebirth, only return when they are called upon in their distant hovels to come out and perform their dark deeds. Wardens spend all of their time after their first days, and I do mean days, unlike humans, out in the world of humanity. You see, what I mean is, we are not born as babies, we are born as aged children. After only a few days, we usually begin to recall our past lives. We spend those days aging to what would be equivalent to a human’s late teen years.”

“So, you are one of the Wardens then...” you say as you tape the gauze to your elbow.

Mysticalis continues to stare out of the window. Where its eyes roam, you do not know, but it does not respond to your comment. It stands in silence.

After minutes, “You can rest here for the night if you have no other place. You may use the bed. The couch will be just fine for my needs.”

“You are too kind. You have no idea how hard it is to get hotels around here at the last minute. I, I don’t know if I’m ready to go home... and at this hour... I don’t know if I could really get home.”

“That is indeed, true. I have never attempted such a thing.” Myst glances over its shoulder back toward you, “but that can be said for many human deeds and chores. I have not ... lived a true life. I am fascinated by human lives. Snapping pictures of themselves, running about, frantically cheering at the television... so many human traits. Such fascinating beings,” it says as it finally turns back toward you.

“You don’t have to make us sound like lab rats.” You shake your head and smile ruefully just before you apply some medical ointment to your eye. “Youch!”

“Quite sorry. I didn’t mean to offe...”

“No no. I was just kidding.”

“Ah... humans. Jokes, another thing I have yet to truly understand... perhaps one day master...”

“Now that would be an exciting stage show option... ‘The Unicorn’, ha”. You can imagine the uproar if people encountered a Unicorn. What if it was plastered all over the media? “How does your kind not get caught on camera?”

“Well, your kind has a tendency to not accept things outside of the norm. Most people just keep quiet for fear of being labeled weird or insane. Or so I’ve been told...” Myst again trails off and appears to think back on its own memories. “And now, it is time for you to sleep. And me to rest.”

In just a few short minutes, Mysticalis shoos you to the bed and settles into a spot on the couch. You can still see its outline from the upper perch where the bed sits in the studio apartment.

**

You can’t deny being shocked by everything that Mysticalis has just shared with you. Even so, your shoulders sag as some of the tensions on your body finally dissipate.

Though much of your world still remains a mystery to you, and though the facts you have learned are absolutely fantastical, the sense of relief that washes over you brings you to a point of temporary acceptance. As you drift off to sleep, your mind wanders around the city of New York thinking about all the enjoyment that you can have now that you have a place to crash.

**