The rhythm grew faster, straining to a frenzied boil, and through the trees they could see a caravan of eclectic creatures, the largest ones were great, furry beasts of burden, slowly and steadily marching forward in time with the small tambourine-playing creatures who rode them. These elephantine creature’s hair grew all the way to the ground, swaying as they stepped, and Vesper thought they looked each the size of a car.

    “Big ones are boofaloos,” Froke said. “But riding them, who-knows-who?”

Sprinkled in amongst them were numdingies, slightly smaller creatures with longer necks. Vesper thought they looked like llamas or camels, except for their multicoloured polka dot-patterned fur. Their eyes were also unusually large and sat atop their heads like bubbles. Windshield wiper eyelids lopped down and back across their glassy eyes, shielding them from the dusty mess kicked up by the caravan.

    “Now what,” Vesper said to herself.

    As they approached, Vesper saw the smaller, round creatures riding within and atop the chariots which were strapped to the boofaloo's backs. The small creatures had drooping, pointy ears that stuck out to the sides, and up-turned noses. Their arms and legs were skinny, and they were covered in short hair, and had long whiskers that flowed out behind them like wispy feathers. As they approached, the caravan unfurled long red banners and flags in a flourish of self-importance. The boofaloos were reined in and a pair of trumpeters wailed off a screechy out-of-tune fanfare.

    “Oh no, mottonballies,” Froke said quietly.

    “Should we hide?” asked Vesper.

    “No, not hide from fear, more like plug up your ears,” said Froke.

    The boofaloos halted in front of them and the chariots jerked, balancing somewhat askew atop the boofaloos. The whole ensemble seemed haphazard and disorganized. After a pause, out popped a mottonballie from the front of the first chariot.

    “Hear ye, travellers! I am Fanderblathe the Ef, commonly addressed as Ef, or just Fanderblathe, or Fandy—but only by my friends,” a voice announced.

    Clearly this mottonballie was the leader of the group. He wore shiny, dark green robes with edging embroidered with colourful shapes and lines. The small creature held a long staff which he swung around dramatically as he spoke. Many other mottonballies appeared atop the boofaloos as the caravan slowed to a stop.

    “Behold, the unicorn of Noominia! Saviour of the realm! First and mightiest among us! The star of Dauntless, unequalled in shininess, and undeniable in her one-horned-ness!” said Ef.

    Vesper’s cheeks flushed. She didn’t want this kind of attention, especially after having just escaped the dragon. As Ef’s words bounced around inside her, Vesper became frozen with an awkward self-consciousness.

    “Behold, the royal unicorn,” he gestured toward the second chariot. The window of the chariot was blocked with intricate lace blinds and it was impossible to see clearly within. Vesper could only see the silhouette of a mysterious one -horned figure.

    “You now have the opportunity to worship her highness, and lay gifts at her feet! Bow down before your unicorn, your princess!”

    The mottonballie musicians rattled and jangled again to heighten their leader's words. At this point Vesper realized Ef was not talking about her. The whole caravan was a show—an advertisement in support of their hidden unicorn princess. She stood in shock at the spectacle: a parade for their own unicorn princess? The real one? Or another one? Vesper wondered.

    Ef wanted Vesper and Froke to bow down to someone they couldn’t even see. And yet there Vesper stood, a unicorn, of one kind or another, out in the open.

    Vesper’s eyes were wide and mouth agape. She turned to Froke, waiting to hear his response.

    “My apologies, your fluffiness, your Ef-ness,” Froke said, “but you cannot possibly have the real unicorn, for this is Vesper, the evening star, who stands before you. She is the real unicorn princess.”

    “Who dares insult the princess unicorn of Noominia with these absurd untruths? You? This great, beastly lump of moss? You? A hooligan gooligan? A killer? Beastly murderer? Sickening!”

    “This is my friend,” responded Vesper, “and he’s not—any of those things you said! He is definitely not a killer, not beastly at all, not anything like that!”

    “Thanks,” Froke said, glancing at Vesper.

    “This vile creature is a hill giant, is he not? Hill giants kill. Hill giant—kill giant, that’s their nature, everyone knows it. And you!” he turned to Vesper. “Pretending to be a unicorn? In a fake suit? A mask? Look how muddy and dirty you are! Disgusting filth! This is most insulting!”

All the other mottonballies cackled in agreement.

    Fanderblathe the Ef continued his rant:

    “You’re just a fraud, a charlatan! A trickster, cheater, swindler! Your mask is a vicious attack on our leader, the true unicorn! Just look at this mess,” he said pointing to Vesper as he addressed the mob of mottonballies behind him, “prancing about the woods with a hill giant, embarrassing herself!”

    “Take off the mask!” one of the other mottonballies yelled, followed by several others echoing the first.

    Then they began chanting:

    “Take off the mask! Take off the mask! Take off the mask!”

    The rabble continued for a while, then Fanderblathe the Ef held up his staff. The chanting stopped. He continued to chastise Vesper:

    “Look at you! You won’t even remove your dirty mask in the presence of your unicorn princess . . .”

    “I don’t see any unicorns, just a gang of squeaky stuffed animals led by a rat-faced liar,” Vesper responded. “If your unicorn is real, why don’t you show us!” Her face began to flush, this time not from embarrassment, but from anger.

    “Exactly what a fake unicorn would say. Your own words prove you’re not a real unicorn, and in speaking them you deny the divine rights of the princess of Noominia. Blasphemic! And so pathetic! Look at you! Not a chariot, not even a single boofaloo to ride upon, not a banner nor a tinner, not a tanner nor a bimblepim, not even a flacktiggle. You have the effort of a slugmot, showing not one tiny symbol of royalty, even if just to make your ridiculous lies seem even remotely true—you can’t tell the truth without a flag or two! A terrible attempt at deception, if I must say so myself, and I do! And you really think you are the saviour, the unicorn? Ha! Behold, the hope of us all!”

    The creature pointed at Vesper and the caravan cackled.

    Then Ef’s tone became serious again: “Now, no more silly business and bow down! Bow before true nobility! Bow before the true light and hope of Noominia!”

    His words stung Vesper more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. She felt torn, like none of this was her choice, or her fault. She knew she was just a girl, not the true unicorn, as Froke believed.

    Vesper felt partly relieved at the idea of another unicorn taking the pressure off of her. Part of her hoped that some other unicorn—even an invisible one hiding behind a curtain—might have the courage to face the shadow dragon instead of her. For a moment, Vesper imagined someone else risking their life and saving Noominia—and then, free to leave, she could worry about getting herself back home, up the stairs and into her cozy bed for a long, deep sleep.

    “Show plainly your show pony,” Froke said. “Stop hiding your unicorn, and prove you’re not phony.”

    “Proof? Only enemies of Noominia would demand such things!” the small creature bleated. “There must be a wizard around here somewhere to arrest you and lock you up,” he said as he looked around.

    “Froke is a wizard—a Silence Keeper,” said Froke. “How may I help you, little creature?”

    “You? You can’t be a wizard! Giants are a disgrace to Noominian rocks! Better yet, forget the Keeper and go bury yourself in a bog, and don’t forget to sink to the bottom forever!”

    More cackles from the frenzied caravan.

    “Show him your wand,” Vesper suggested.

    “And you!” Ef turned his attention back to Vesper. “You will remove your thespian’s mask! You must! Or you’ll never act in this town again! Bow, or, or. . . face the consequences!”

    When Vesper had first arrived in Noominia she felt like an imposter in a mask. But now, under this barrage of riotous words and insults, she began to feel that she needed to defend Froke, to defend herself—and defend the unicorn that she was, or could be. It was true that she wore a mask that she could not remove, and she wasn’t exactly a unicorn. But to her, the unicorn mask she wore was a symbol of hope and truth that somehow, deep within her, she knew she could never forsake.

    Onto the forest path stepped a snarling red fox the size of a horse. The fox’s snout was bridled, and riding it was a war-weary elven guard wearing his leather battle armor. His gear showed the signs of wear, much like his face, yet the two swords strapped to his back were without flaw. The guard’s hair was fiery orange, matching his giant fox, and was tied back at the crown except for a thick braid at each temple.

    “What seems to be the problem, good Noominians,” said the guard.

    “Finally, an elven fox guard, here to arrest you ne’er-do-wells,” said Fanderblathe. “These two have blocked our path, they’ve insulted us with their posturing, and threatened our very lives! I’m Fanderblathe the Ef, and we mottonballies accompany the true unicorn princess to the festival,” he said with a gesture toward the second carriage.

    “I am Eon, at your service. I think I understand the problem,” said the guard. “The unicorn princess, you say? Then, your passage is of the utmost importance.”

    “Yes it is,” replied Ef simply.

    “Leave them to me. You two! Step aside, let the caravan pass!” The fox, still snarling, moved closer toward Vesper and she took a step backwards. The guard waved on the mottonballie caravan.

    Froke was silent and unmoving, watching the caravan lurch forward.

    “Boofaloos spur! We must edge on! We are the protectors of the unicorn princess!” the small furry creature flailed in a frenzy, but did not leave his perch of safety for an instant.

    The mottonballies standing on the boofaloos wielded musical instruments which they were clanging and banging to signify their retreat. The boofaloos were spurred on, but their pace was drudgingly slow.

    “Goodbye!” Froke offered a friendly wave as the procession left them, beat by beat, clang by clang.

    “Good luck! I hope you meet the shadow dragon soon!” shouted Vesper with one eye on the fox guard. She couldn’t help laughing at how ridiculously slow they were retreating. Should they ever encounter the dragon, Vesper knew they would surely, and quickly, be eaten.

    “And now to deal with you, you big rock,” Eon said as he stood up on his fox, stepped lightly from the saddle to its head and leaped off its pointed nose toward Froke with a grunt.

    Eon dangled from Froke’s neck for a moment and laughed as he dropped to the ground. When Froke began to laugh, too, Vesper covered her mouth and also let out a short, nervous laugh.

    “It’s really good to see you, old friend,” said Eon. “We could’ve used your help yesterday—and the past couple of years, you know. Did you have a nice nap? Feeling rested now?” Eon laughed again.

“Eon, this is Vesper, the evening star. She’s come from far, and that’s where I’ve been. Vesper, this is Eon.”

    “Vesper, it’s a pleasure to meet any friend of Froke’s,” said Eon with a nod.

    “You're Froke's friend—right, of course—nice to meet you, too,” said Vesper.

    The great red fox settled into an easy curl on the soft forest floor.

    “And this is Finn,” said Eon, giving the beast a scratch behind its ears.

    “Can I pet him?” Asked Vesper. “He’s beautiful!”

    “Sure!” replied Eon. “He put on a great show, don’t you think? All that snarling and growling. He’s really quite sweet.”

    “He looks fluffy now, but I’ve seen Finn in battle,” said Froke, “and heard your foe’s bones rattle when they saw him. Then he’s fierce-Finn.”

    “How long have you two known each other?” asked Vesper.

    “Froke and I go way back,” said Eon, “all the way back to before the kobalin wars, before he was a Keeper, before I was a guard!”

    “Froke hasn’t seen guards in the forest for many long moons,” said Froke.

    “That’s probably because you’re napping all the time, moss-face,” said Eon.

    “How many of you are there?” asked Vesper.

    “It’s true, there’s not many of us left,” Eon replied. “A couple of years back we were told to go home. There is a new leader in the Order who decided we weren’t needed any more.”

    “What?! That makes no sense!” said Froke. “For kobalin attacks we need defence! When Froke left the Keep nine years ago, there were many guards patrolling the forest, to and fro.”

    “I said my piece, but it was no use—we all knew that the kobalin attacks would increase. Most of the guards quit patrolling when the gold stopped. A handful were hired privately by some of the Keepers. Only a few of us stuck around to patrol the borders. I mean, what else are Finn and I going to do? Hang out in the taverns all day?”

    Finn gave a snort and half closed his eyes. Eon cleared his throat.

    “I heard what the mothball said, Froke, but it looks to me like you’re the one accompanying the unicorn princess,” said Eon with a chuckle as he glanced over to Vesper. “If anyone’s wandering about with you, you bluff-a-rocks, it’d have to be a newcomer.”

    “Froke doesn’t pretend to understand the words of that mottonbally,” said Froke, “so let’s not waste time with useless dilly-dally.”

    “We’re on our way to the Keep. Will you join us?” asked Vesper. “I seem to have a shadow dragon eager to end my life, but I wouldn’t let it worry you.”

    “The threat of death couldn’t stop me, nor slow me down,” said Eon with a smile. “I’d stand with Froke anywhere. And if you’re with him, that means I’ll stand with you, too. There are many things worse than death, Vesper.”

    “Really? Right now I can’t think of any,” said Vesper.

    “Look around you. I’d bet you’re not where you expected to be, but you’re exactly where you need to be, and right when it counts, no less. There’s no greater thrill than knowing what your destiny is, and following it through. Even when the chips are down, you never give up. That’s life—that’s the journey. Nothing can stop fate, so you might as well jump on and enjoy the ride.”

    Eon gave Finn a big scratch behind the ears, a huge smile glued to his face.

    “By 'jump on' do you also mean that I can ride Finn?” Vesper asked.

    "Sure!" Eon nodded and let out a laugh.

    “Oh, so awesome! Thank you!”

    Vesper gave Finn a scratch and with Eon’s help climbed up onto the back of the cloth saddle. Eon climbed in front.

    “You see, Vesper—you have only as much skill and courage you need to face your challenges. If you had too much of either, there’d be no meaning. You’d be too powerful and it’d all be too easy. If you really believe you are the unicorn and it’s your destiny to face the dragon, well, the dragon is nothing more than a door to the next moment, and it’s a triumphant moment I’d wager. The Vesper that’s waiting on the other side of that dragon is far better than the one here, riding Finn—you just need to be willing to see what’s on the other side, and at all costs.”

    Vesper was silent as Finn stood and began putting one sure paw in front of the next.

    Eon’s words were comforting, but she wasn’t sure why. He had told her she wasn’t very skilled or courageous. That she’d be just as likely to die trying to face her fate as escape it. He said she wasn’t her best self, but if she has the courage to face her fate, she is destined to become better.

    It was the truth. And although Vesper thought it would sting, it didn’t. The truth felt good.