Once upon a time in a faraway land...
In a time long ago, when there was more magic in the world, the Licorne line ruled over the realm. They were blessed by the moon with untold magic, respected by all. Keepers of knowledge, the Licornes collected scrolls and tomes beyond count, creating a grand library spoken of the world over. Guardians of nature, their expansive gardens held flora from the most ordinary lily to the rarest orchids. Their castle, rumored to be enchanted itself, was the grandest in all the known realms, holding untold wealth, art, and history within its gilded walls.
The Licornes were not always forgotten, hiding away in their enchanted forest; Once they had ruled proudly over the realm. The world was simpler then; kinder, perhaps. Alas, they began disappearing when a morbid truth was discovered. You see, drinking from their sacred pool, blessed by the moon itself is what gave them the Licornes their magic. It was in their hair, their blood, their hooves, and most of all, their horns. The Licornes were being hunted, their precious parts transformed into trinkets, spells, and potions. So born were the Magus Hunters. To change the tides of war, they hunted the immortal races of the world.
âšœ “Without the Licorne there is no magic, there is no life. Never forget that, mortal."
The last Licorne King and Queen nearly had it all. Alas, they did not have what they wanted most: a child. They prayed to the moon every night for a child to nurture and love. It had been a thousand years since a babe had been born, and their lineage was drawing to a close. The Magus Hunters were coming, even now, seeking to butcher their people. Spreading lies and rumors in the nearby kingdoms, they sought to draw them from their enchanted forest. The Licornes, noble and just, were dwindling to a whisper.
One day in the last breath of autumn, the moon answered their cries. While the Queen was wheaten gold with hair like cinders, and the King onyx black as the moon’s shadow, their child was born pale as snow. A princess had been born, yes, but not simply a new heir: she would be a blessing upon the lands. Tales of the powerful ivory mares, blessed by the moon with powerful magic and untold beauty were found within their history. So, they named her Miorjah, blessed with the moon upon her belly and eyes like starlight. Her most awaited birth was celebrated, for the Licorne line had a new Princess - a new future. Citizens from across the kingdom came to gaze upon the filly, bringing blessings and gifts. Miorjah was beloved by all.
The King, old and wise, brought Miorjah to their birthplace, Trianta. The chateau was unknown to any mortal, protected by the veiled magic of the enchanted forest and the moonpool. They believed, for now, their daughter would be safe.
âšœ “This girl is a whisper, a ghost of a rose. Moon’s gift given form, her spirit enclosed.”
The Princess was raised within the castle’s ivy-laden walls. Dancing amongst the empty ballrooms, imagining her first dance with her destined prince. Wandering the marble halls with little magical creatures that called the enchanted castle home. Playing in the gardens of endless colors and flora. Reading her favorite fairy tales, histories and romances in front of the stained glass windows that lined the chateau. The Princess was a girl of endless curiosity. The nobles took to her as if she were their own, educating the princess in history, geography, music, art, astronomy, etiquette, to even warfare, cooking and dance. As if a Princess from a fairytale, the entire castle watched her blossom from a young girl to a beautiful maiden.
Despite her shy nature, the Princess proved to be dutiful, eloquent, patient and forgiving, matched well by her well-read curiosity. While prideful of her intelligence, most marveled at her unmatched beauty. For her velvety coat, her eyes like the moonlit sea, and her dainty figure were unmatched by any mortal maiden. The Princess captured the hearts of all who met her, bringing joy and laughter back to the night-bound court. Sadly, peace could not remain, for fate could not be challenged nor changed.
âšœ “You carry within you an endless legacy of magic. You are a princess of the Licorne line, of Trianta, of our family. No one will ever take that from you."
As the Princess grew, everyone she loved began to disappear. The hunters became more fervorous, seeking to collect more of their bloody trophies, they turned their full might upon the Licorne, the most magical, but fragile of the immortals. Miorjah, learning of her people’s slaughter, grew more reserved each day. The girl remained secluded, no longer playing in the gardens or listening to tales of the world outside the castle walls. Instead, she hid under her covers and read tales she dreamed of living to escape the tragedy and death that surrounded her. One by one, those she loved left, seeking a way to save their people. Searching to change the tides of war, to find ancient magic or allies that could save their dying lineage. On a stormy day, a courtier came, calling and pleading for the last of them, her father, mother, and few who remain to come to the capitol, needing their magic to defend from the hunters who had discovered it, slaughtering their people in droves.
The princess was left alone in the opulent castle, only the echoes of her hoofsteps gracing the great halls and the moon to guard over her. Promising her father and mother to never leave the enchanted castle until they returned. One day, magic echoed through the halls, and Miorjah feared the worst, believing that the hunters had found Trianta. But as she left the chateau, around her she saw the redwoods were covered in blooms. Twisted wisteria trees and white roses surrounded the enchanted forest, made from the most powerful of the Licorne’s magic - love. Unknown to Miorjah, her parents had perished and in their last breaths, they created a powerful magical barrier that would prevent anyone from entering the castle, to keep their beloved child safe.
âšœ “My daughter, know that you are loved. Even when we are gone,
our love will always be with you."
The castle slowly filled with life. Untamed flora and wild animals became the Princess’ only company. The chateau, enchanted long ago, kept itself from falling apart. The gilded statues of her ancestors remained shining, even as red roses crawled across them. Trees bloomed in the halls as if they had been there for centuries. The kitchens remained filled with flour and the forest with berries and herbs. The Princess, thankful for the teachings of her kin, cooked simple foods, tending to herself and the animals she kept as companions. She reads through the books in the grand library, now covered in old ivy and velvet lichen. Sketching away fairytales, gowns, and other things in her spare time. Collecting the gemstones and flowers that bloom and sparkle in the forest and grand gardens. Playing and dancing with the animals and fae folk. Still, she is lonely without another person to speak to; She dwells within the tragedy of her lost bloodline, unknown she herself is the lost Princess. She only finds peace in her dreams, seeing her lost parents and people, and a faceless male who loved her so truly.
​
The world, learning of her existence after the death of her parents, searches for her without rest. For she holds all the Licorne’s magic, the stolen magic of the ancient artifacts and butchered trinkets slowly fading upon the completion of their bloody massacre.
​
As the fall slowly turned to winter, the first snow falling in quiet reverence to the last heir, her life changed forever. Echoing footsteps filled the castle, booming through the halls below and the Princess’ heart with fear. Fate had bound her to this place, but the Licorne’s magic had bound her to another. The King of the North, in the southern realm to raid with his Vikingr, had stumbled across the castle, allowed passage by the magic itself, knowing of their intertwined destiny. The Princess found herself both infatuated and afraid, remaining within the shadows as the King explored and plundered. She was a ghost, he had convinced himself, never gazing truly upon her. He came and left. The Princess grew confused and frustrated by him each day, till finally, she gained the courage to approach him.
The world changed the moment their eyes met...
Without hesitation, the ruthless Warrior King claimed Miorjah as his charge. Whisking her away from the only home she had ever known and to his southern bastion. The King, a being of war and strife, knows the truth of her slaughtered bloodline. Of what would be her dark fate if the feuding kingdoms of the southern realm took hold of the last heir, the last of the magic in the realms. The King has taken no wife nor mistresses, his heart supposedly frozen by an ancient curse that won him his bloody crown. Now, the intimidating male found himself utterly obsessed with the virginal, feminine Princess. She is his. His perfect lover. Tender, fragile, and timid, Miorjah is his perfect female in every way, as if painted from his very dreams. Out of possessive jealousy, he chains her within the walls of his castle, hiding her existence from the world.
Unconvinced she is truly the last of her kind, Miorjah holds the hope that her people are hidden and safe, seeking a way to reconnect with her parents and people. While the Princess believes her destiny is uncertain, rumors murmur of the Princess as the key to the King’s heart.
âšœ “I do not know you, yet I feel like I remember you,
a time long past, a life once lived, a dream we had, together ..."
