The Last Unicorn

by Peter S. Beagle

She thought of the hunter’s great-grandmother, and wondered what it must be like to grow old, and to cry.

The unicorn replied, “Do not boast, old woman. Your death sits in that cage and hears you.”

How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?”

“I am myself still. This body is dying. I can feel it rotting all around me.

“I cannot touch her, whatever I do. For her sake, I have become a hero—I, sleepy Lír, my father’s sport and shame—but I might just as well have remained the dull fool I was. My great deeds mean nothing to her.”

Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid of anything. Whatever you have been, you are mine now. I can hold you.”

“She has twice raised me up from death, and what will I be without her but dead for a third time?”

You have loved her and served her—be content, and be king.”

why, life is short, and how many can I help or harm? I have my power at last, but the world is still too heavy for me to move,

I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret.”

now that's a line baby