Too surprised to do anything, she watched as Sylvan came running from the trees. He reached into his sack and pulled out the silver cup. He ran up to the fallen unicorn and filled the cup with he blood running from its wound.
Taking a drink, he offered the cup to Leelah.
"Who do you think you are?" she said, striking him across the cheek. "You tricked me!"
"Don't you see," Sylvan said. "We can be together forever."
"I want nothing to do with you!" Leelah screamed at him. "Leave me alone and never speak to me again!" She stormed off.
Shrugging his shoulders, Sylvan finished drinking the unicorn's blood.


100 Years Later

The old man shuffled down the dirt path in the forest. He would walk a few feet, and then he would have to rest. His arthritis would only allow him to go so far.
He had traveled this forest many times and knew where every turn was. It was a good thing, since the slightest stumble would send him falling to the ground. It would be very hard for him to get back up. He came to a clearing where a shack once stood. Leelah, dead for years, never gave him a single thought since he killed the unicorn and drank its blood. While she could have been walking along with him, it was best that she never drank the unicorn's blood.
Sylvan shook his head sadly.
He remembered when he first expressed his wish to have eternal life. The cleric had told him that he had to drink unicorn's blood.
The cleric had said, "Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes you get what you want. Yet, it may not be what you wanted."
How true the cleric's words! Sylvan got the eternal life he wanted. His mind is as alert as ever. He will live forever. However, he body still ages.
Eternal life is not a blessing.
It is a curse!
**********************************
Sylvan buried his head in his hands. “What is an old man to do?” he sobbed. “Sylvan cannot die. Sylvan wants to die!”
“If we can help, can you tell us how to get to the caverns?” Massacharamar asked.
“Yes!”
“Do you still have the silver cup?”
“I, I mean Sylvan does!” The old man pulled a cup out of his bag. “Here it is. It looks as new as the day Sylvan got it!” He handed the cup to the elf. “How can nice people, like you, help Sylvan?”
“Unicorn’s blood will take away the curse.” The elf sniffed the air. “There is a unicorn nearby. Johanna, I need you to come with me.”
“We are not going to kill a unicorn, are we?” Johanna asked.
“I will explain on the way.”
“I want to go too,” George said. “I have never seen a live unicorn.”
“Unicorns will not come up if a male is nearby. You have to stay here.”
“Oh shoot,” George said, pouting.
“You kind people want to help Sylvan,” said the old man. “Sylvan will tell you how to reach the caverns while the ladies are looking for a unicorn.”
Johanna and Massacharamar walked away. “It is about a day’s walk from here, Sylvan began. George had taken the parchment from his bag and began to sketch.

Johanna was following the Massacharamar. Every once in a the elf wold stop and sniff the air.
“We are not going to kill a unicorn, are we?” she asked again.
“No,” said the elf. “We are just going to borrow some of its blood.”
“I do not understand.”
“If I can get close enough to a unicorn, I can cut it on its belly and get enough blood to fill Sylvan’s cup. I brought you along so you can heal it after we get enough blood.”
“I see. However, how will we get close enough to a unicorn? Also, doesn’t the blood have to be from a black unicorn?”
“Blod from any type of unicorn will end the curse. Unicorns come to me; I can speak to them with my mind. I will tell it what I have to do, that it might hurt a bit and encourage it that its wound will be healed. I think the unicorn is just ahead.
Johanna and Massacharamar crested the hill. A white unicorn was drinking from a stream.
“Please do not run,” the elf spoke in its mind.
The unicorn did not move, but looked scared.
“Do not be afraid. We are friends. We need to borrow something from you. It may hurn, but my friend will heal you. Please come here if you want to help.”
The unicorn slowly walked towards the Massacharamar and Johanna. The elf slowly reached out her hand and stroked its sleek body.
“Can I touch him too?”
“Go ahead, he trusts you.”
“I have never touched a unicorn, let alone seen one, before,” Johanna said, excited.
The elf took a knife and Sylvan’s cup from her bag. “As soon as I get enough blood, heal him.”
In a minute, the cup was filled with blood and the unicorn healed.
“Thank you, friend,” Massacharamar said.
The unicorn looked at the two females, bowed at them and walked off into the forest.
By the time they got to the others, George was putting his parchment back into his bag.
“He told us how to get there. If we had continued north, we may have missed it. I hope you can help him; he has helped us immensely.
“We got it,” Johanna said.
Massacharamar approached Sylvan. “We got what you need.”
Sylvan looked at the silver cup. “Sylvan really appreciates this.” He drank the unicorn’s blood. When he was done, he lay on the ground. “This makes Sylvan very happy.” He stopped speaking. His body instantly crumbled into a body of dust. The wind gathered up what was left of Sylvan in her arms and scattered him over the land.
 
Chapter Five
The Caverns of Kildun Aalda

The terrain was getting more hilly than before. Following Sylvan’s directions, the group continued walking the rest of the day, taking small breaks to rest.
“George,” said Britt, “can you check out the area above the hill? We have to stop for the night.”
“Sure thing,” the thief said, running off.
Bard looked at the pinking of the sky as the sun started its descent in the west. It was going to be another beautiful night.
“I wonder how much longer we have to go,” Bard said to Britt.
“I am not sure,” the dwarf answered. “I wonder if Sylvan’s directions are reliable. At his age, his mind may have been going.”
“I think his mind was as sharp as the day he first drank the unicorn’s blood.”
“Hey!” George yelled. “I think we found it!”
The group ran up to George. He pointed ahead of him. About a mile in the distance stood a row of cliffs.
“I believe you are right, son,” Britt said.
“Look at that outcrop,” Johanna said. “It looks like a tower.”
“If this is the place,” said Massacharamar, “that was most likely used as a lookout.”
“There is too much vegetation to be certain,” said Britt. “Other than the tower, everything else is hidden”
“Do we go there now?” asked Balon.
“No,” said Britt. “We will camp for the night. If we leave early, we should find the entrance while it is still morning.”

“Be careful,” Johanna called to Balon. “I almost fell.”
“They were almost to the face of the cliff. The pathway was becoming more hazardous as stones broke under her feet.
Britt was the first one to reach the face of the cliff. “This is beautiful,” he said, as he ran his hand over the craggy black outcropping of slate. “I would love to mine this.”
“I think I found an entrance!” Balon yelled. Pushing aside the vines and vegetation, the explorers found an opening in the rock formation, large enough for humans to enter.
“Remember to be careful in here,” Britt said.
“You never know what might bite you in your rear end,” George quipped.
The group stepped into the entrance.
“This is like a courtyard,” Bard said looking around. He thought they would be in a cavern. However, once they got through the entrance, they were in sunlight once again.
“There is a door just ahead,” Massacharamar called. A wooden door was in the second rock wall.
“Have your torches ready.”
“Balon and George, make sure you stay in the middle of the formation.”
They reached the door.
“No traps,” George said after a quick, but thorough, examination.
The door opened easily.
“Wait!” said Johanna. “Look at the door!”
“I do not see anything wrong,” said Bard.
“Parts of the door have been chipped away.”
Britt looked at the door. “It looks like it has been forced open. Do not tell me that we are too late.”
“Maybe it was Sylvan,” said Balon. “he said that he tried to get the monsters to kill him.”
“True,” said Britt. “Carry on.”
They stepped through the door and found themselves in another courtyard. Three pairs of columns were spaced equally apart.
They passed the first two. There were no markings on them, nothing to indicate their purpose.
“Maybe they were used as guard posts,” Bard suggested.
“That is possible,” said Britt. He carefully checked one column. “Sometimes these have hidden doors on them. Yet, I do not see any on this one.”
They continued walking towards the final set of columns. All of a sudden two mouths appeared on this set.
“Who dares enter this place?” said the first mouth in a booming voice.
The second mouth spoke, “Who dares intrude upon the sanctuary of Stephan and Joban?”
The first mouth spoke again, “Only a group of foolish explorers…”
“Doomed to certain death!” finished the second mouth.
Then both mouths spoke at once, “Beware to any who pass here-the wrath of Stephan and Joban will be upon them!” Then both mouths laughed evilly and vanished from view.
“What a warm, hearty welcome,” George said, laughing, trying to imitate the mouths.
Just past the third set of columns were two steps made out of stone. They climbed them and continued up the corridor, George ran ahead to an intersecting one that ran east to west.
“George, you foolish boy! Do not go off by yourself!”
“We are not the first ones!” the thief yelled back.
The others ran up to him and saw a grisly scene.
“Careful now,” said Britt. “Whatever killed them may be nearby.”
Bard walked over to one body. Even though the body was stripped of armor, he was sure that this was a fighter like him. A broken sword, sheared off about six inches from the hilt, lay near the body.
Balon paled when he saw the second body. He and Johanna walked over to it. “Nobody I know, but still a bad way to die.” The human magic user was impaled against the wall, a sword thrust through his body and lodged in the wall. “Something powerful must have done this.” He pulled at the sword, “Somebody, help me remove tis!” With effort, Bard and Britt were able to dislodge the sword from the wall and the dead magic user. His body crumpled to the floor.
“Well, this definitely is the place,” Britt said, as they stared at the blood-stained writing on the wall. It read “The Caverns of Kildun Aalda: The Home of Stephan and Joban.”
“There is a trail of blood,” George said, pointing. They followed the trail a short distance to the east. A dwarf fighter lay face down, his right hand still clutching his war hammer.
“It looks like he was wounded and crawled here to die,” Britt said. He stared at the body in silence, then noticed another body in the shadows. “At least he did not die in vain.” Another creature lay dead, his head bashed in from the blow of a war hammer.
Bard walked over to its body and noticed that it was a human warrior wearing a coat of bear skins.
“Is it possible that he belonged to the others?”
“It is possible,” said the dwarf. “However, he looks like a human berserker. They are very powerful and are normally used as guards.”