The long-forgotten tale of a boy who's name was lost to history is recounted for the discerning reader.
This story is about a little boy who was very (and I mean very) special. He lived a long-time ago, and we have all but forgotten about his exploits. I seek to reconcile our collective memories with his tale, and writing it down on this obscure website is how I intend to do it.
We know this little boy lived a long time ago, but alas, his name has been lost to the centuries. I suppose I could have given him any name, but I elected to refrain. See, I don't want to sully his already faint memory. Plus, if someone in your family tree resembled our boy, I don't want to give you the impression that it wasn't him. He might be one of your ancestors. We can't know for sure as his name as been forgotten. So, feel free to name him after one of your forefathers, he won't care (he's been dead for a while now, that much we can state without fear of being wrong).
So, he was born of the love between a unicorn and a great warrior. Now, before you go and picture all kinds of disturbing stuff, know that true love transcends mere flesh, and that magical beings do not, by definition, adhere to natural laws.
In short, much like Jesus, the son was born without the need for intercourse between the parents. That's a huge relief, I'm sure. It is to me, anyway.
Alright, now that we've gotten that out of the way, can we proceed with the tale of this fey-touched boy? I knew I had to set things straight right off the bat, otherwise there would have been all kinds of disturbing pictures in your head distracting you as you read.
So, the boy was a special kid. As you might expect, his skin was pearly white and so was his hair. Kinda like the mane of a horse. Well, a unicorn. A being of pure pureness or purity.
And he had a horn. A long, slender horn growing on his forehead, almost in the middle, but really a little too much to the left. That shouldn't come as a surprise: as you know, perfect symmetry is not often found in nature. I state as proof the woman bosom.
So this guy, born of purity and love (without intercourse having ever been needed, I remind you), had a horn, and this horn was on his forehead, and it was long and slender. And to the left a little.
It follows that he was left-handed. And since he was pure, there follows that left-handedness cannot be a sure-fire sign of wickedness. That's free intel for those who thought it was the case.
Anyway. It's all pretty clear. It all makes perfect sense.
Well, for the rest of it, our boy was pretty normal. He had a regular, human body. He had teeth and eyes and everything in between. Occasionally, but really, only once in a while, he'd get a craving for some fresh hay. That was no trouble: he'd simply go out and munch on the lawn. And daddy was content, because that meant he wouldn't have to mow the darn thing that week.
And life was good and perfect.
Well, almost perfect. See, daddy was a warrior, and a great one. Perhaps the best. So it's only natural that he was often called away by the king on urgent, important matters. Perfectly understandable.
Still, our little boy, he was left alone with his mother on such occasions. And remember: his mother was a frickin' horse. Well, pretty much. Let's say mommy was about 90% horse. A horn and unfettered purity can't account for more than 10% of one's body, right? Well, as a horse-like creature, mommy spent all her time in the barn or galloping the fields of gold or simply being pure. There wasn't much mother and son could do together.
Sure, our boy could have ridden his mom, but that's just sick. I mean, think about it. I feel ashamed to even mention it. His mom, with or without a harness, was off limits. Besides, she was pure. So forget I ever mentioned it.
So they didn't do much together, except mow the lawn now and then. Only once in a while because mommy had a refined palate, and preferred the wild fern and burgeoning branches (which our boy didn't enjoy at all), so they didn't do it very often. And even if mommy wanted to, it still didn't mean our boy had a craving for grass at that particular moment. Anyway, it's also the reason the daddy had to mow the lawn almost every week. Think about it, with two grass-munchers in the family, why would he need a lawnmower or a scythe or something? No, it stands to reason that if daddy ever needed to mow the lawn, it was because the other two family members wouldn't touch it except on rare occasions.
So, our boy, he was alone a lot of the time.
He would go out alone in the forest to play for hours. Sometimes, he would play in some berry bushes, and come out with a hornfull of berries and leaves. He could have eaten both, I suppose, but he mostly ate the berries. On some rare occasions, his mother would have the leaves while he gobbed down the berries. Family diners were few and far in between.