The Broken Horn

Once there was a boy named Simon who was very happy doing the things that little boys do; playing with soldiers and having adventures but then, one night, it got so hot that the boy’s mother couldn’t sleep and so she left a bedroom window open but while she and her husband were sleeping a tiny mosquito buzzed into the room and bit them both and, very sadly, they died of a rare tropical disease.

 

And so Simon was forced to live with his evil Aunt and her ugly daughter and Simon’s Aunt did not like boys; she only liked girls and so she insisted upon him changing his name to Simonella and wearing a frilly dress.

 

And there was nothing that Simon or Simonella could do about it; he couldn’t even run away although he tried several times, because his aunt, as well as being a thoroughly wicked woman was also a witch and, whenever Simon tried to run away, she would use a magic horn to bring him back again.

 

One day however, he was outside picking brambles to make bramble jam for his Aunt when he tore his dress upon a thorny bramble vine.

 

“Oh no”, he said, “My Aunt will surely beat me for tearing my dress”.

 

But then, as he was looking at the torn dress and wondering what to do, he saw nearby what he thought was a white horse, drinking from a stream and, going over to it, he started to pet it.

 

As he was stroking its mane however, he noticed that it had the stump of a horn growing at the centre of its forehead.

 

“You’re not a horse”, he said to it, “You’re a unicorn but a unicorn with a broken horn. Poor animal. What happened to you”.

 

But then, suddenly, he remembered how his mother had always kissed his knee whenever he had cut it and how her kiss had seemed to have a magical healing power and so he kissed the stump of the horn but then, to his amazement, the horse started to change; its front legs becoming shorter than its back legs and its long mane turning into a grey beard and then, before the boy knew what had happened the unicorn had turned into an old man.

 

“Who are you?”, asked Simon.

 

“I am the Warlock, Mandragon. I turned myself into a unicorn while playing a game of shape changing with my wife and made my wand into a horn but while I was in unicorn form, she cut off my horn and I was condemned to stay a unicorn without a horn until a maiden kissed me”, said the old man.

 

“Maiden?”, said Simon, “But I’m not a maiden, I’m a boy. I only wear a dress because my evil Aunt forces me to”.

 

“Well your dress certainly fooled the magic spell”, said the old man, chortling.

 

But then, just at that moment, there was a roar of thunder overhead and a lightning bolt struck the earth and, where it struck, Simons Aunt appeared holding a wand.

 

“When the horn turned back into a wand, I knew that could mean only one thing, that you had been turned back into a man”, said the witch, “Well, man or not. I still have the wand”.

 

“The wand that is rightfully mine”, said the warlock.

 

“Ha!”, laughed the witch, “We’ll just see about that and, this time, you won’t be a unicorn without a horn; I’ll turn you into a mouse without a tail”.

 

But then, though the witch aimed and pointed the wand at the warlock, it would have no more effect on him than if she had pointed a twig.

 

“I don’t understand”, she said, “Why isn’t the wand working?”.

 

“Any person can steal a wand, my dear”, he said, reaching out with a magnetic force and pulling the wand from her hand into his own, “But that does not make them a magician. If you were a true magician then you would know that the wand could not recognise me in my unicorn form but it knows its masters face”.

 

And now, the warlock, pointing his wand towards the witch transformed her into a clucking hen.

 

“And hopefully the eggs she lays will not be as rotten as her heart”, said the warlock.

 

But then the old man, touching Simon upon the head with his wand, transformed his torn dress into a smart suit and then, taking the boy by the hand, he transported them both, in an instant, back to the home of his Aunt.

 

And when they did, his Aunts daughter ran towards them, however, to Simons astonishment she was not ugly any more but beautiful because she had been freed from her mother’s ugly influence.

 

“Daddy!”, she cried, running up to the old man, smiling and hugging him, “You’ve come home”.

 

“Yes, my dear”, said the warlock, “And from this day onwards everything, around here, is going to be different”.

 

And it was different, for the Warlock treated Simon as his beloved son and taught him all that he knew about magic and then, when the boy grew up, he became a powerful Warlock too, marrying his uncle’s daughter and, together, they lived happily ever after.