All The King's Horses, All The King's Men

On most mornings in her retirement, Twisted Ivy rose gently with the sun, with golden light spilling into the windows and prompting her eyes to open. It made mornings like this particular one interesting, as she awoke with a start as something crashed through the upstairs loft and landed in a splatter of broken boards, loose straw, and a cloud of dust that rose like a phantom in the early morning

It was still dark, but her eyes were still sharp and well-adjusted to the gloom. Like most other stalls, Twisted Ivy’s had no door. She headed out of the warmth of her quarters and in the direction she could hear the rustling and the disgruntled muttering as a boy climbed out of the mess and stared around, dismayed at the sight.

Twisted Ivy’s breath hitched a little. The boy was just a bit smaller than her McKellan had been when he had turned up from the Otherworld, battered and a bit scared, feeding her lidrasse lilies in the meadow upon their first meeting. The boy hadn’t yet seen her, and being so much larger in stature, she hung back and held her head low so as not to scare him. “Are you okay?” she asked.

The young shapeshifter whirled around, alarmed.

“Whoa, it’s okay,” Twisted Ivy assured him. “It’s not a big deal. Gawain - the stable hand - has been complaining about those old boards up there that need replacing for a while now.”

“You don’t think I’ll be in trouble?” the boy sniffed.

“No, of course not. I’ll blame it on the barn cats if anything,” Twisted Ivy quipped.

The boy didn’t even crack a smile at that. Twisted Ivy didn’t need any special kind of unicorn sense to know that something was off in his mood. She had seen enough to put together the fall, and the streaks of tears on his face to reckon that the boy had run in here upset about something else.

“Thanks, miss,” the boy said. It seemed as if now that he knew the immediate danger of being scolded had passed, the original forlorn feelings were settling back on his shoulders.

“So while you’re here,” Twisted Ivy said, determined not to see the little boy cry, “what’s your name, young master?”

“Khan,” he replied. “Who are you?”

“My name is Twisted Ivy,” she said. “And something you’ll learn very quickly if you ever come back around the barn to visit me is that I love strawberries. And there happens to be a pouch of them in the icebox in the next room, but I can’t get the door open myself. Would you mind bringing me some?”

Khan’s shoulders rose and fell with a silent sigh. Twisted Ivy swallowed a laugh, remembering rolling her own eyes in the days of youth when it was she who was asked for favors from her elders. But he complied, crossing the barn and allowing the sweet smell of the strawberries to escape as he opened the door. He handed her the bag and she lipped a few into her mouth. “You’re welcome to them,” she offered.

Khan glanced at the pouch, blinking long blond eyelashes before deciding to take her offer. He popped one in his mouth, followed by several more.

“So,” Twisted Ivy said, “do you always hang out in barns and scare poor old unicorns half to death?”

The young shapeshifter shook his head, as if dismissing any thought of telling her. “Just taking a break from training,” he replied. “It’s going to be a long day.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s nothing. Just training hard.”

Twisted Ivy nodded along, chewing on her strawberries. “I see.” She had seen that withdrawn look before, and lucky for Khan, she was good at finding ways into conversation, even with disgruntled youths. “What is this, your third year? Fourth year?”

“Third,” the boy replied. So that meant he was ten. Apprentice training began at age seven. “I just started weapons training.”

“Weapon of choice?”

“Shortsword, for now.”

“Why just for now?”

“When I’m stronger I want to dual wield,” Khan said.

“How very ambitious of you. It takes a lot of skill for that. Warriors who learned to do it are among the great names of the past. I have no doubt you’ll be among them if you pursue that path.”

“Thanks, miss,” Khan craned his neck to peer up at her more closely. “Did you belong to a warrior at one point?”

Twisted Ivy tried to contain her smile. “You could say that,” she said. “So, were you working with the sword today or just hand-to-hand?”

“Well, I should have been moving on with the other apprentices. They’re doing a training exercise where they have to scale the wall and fight on top of it. But Elayne says I’m not ready.”

“Elayne, is she your mentor?”

Khan nodded solemnly, swirling his uneaten strawberries around in his cupped hand.

This predicament, although different, was nothing Twisted Ivy couldn’t handle. She remembered the days of McKellan’s youth when they had first been assigned to each other. He had struggled at first, too. Of course he would, coming from the Otherworld ruled by the humans. There, creatures like unicorns and dragons didn’t exist, and people were just human, unable to shapeshift. He had come to the barn for many talks with Twisted Ivy - how he felt he didn’t, and would never, fit in like the other apprentices. His training was years behind theirs, but it didn’t matter. The issue immediately folded on itself when he changed his sword from his right hand to his left. A hidden prodigy, McKellan’s skills had soared past his peers’, and soon he was experiencing the guilt of training so far ahead of them.

Twisted Ivy remembered that talk, too. She had equated her own growth to his in that conversation. She had grown a lot faster than the other young unicorns, and while being bigger and stronger had its perks, it was never fun to be left out of her friends’ games just for disrupting the teams’ balance. But that was a different kind of struggle.

“Kell,” she began.

“Khan,” the little boy corrected her.

“Yes, Khan, sorry. What do you think you need to improve upon so Elayne will let you train with the other apprentices?”

“I don’t know,” Khan responded. His face was stoic but there was a catch in his voice.

“Do you show up early?”

“Yes.”

“Armor and weapons clean and ready?"

"Yes, yes."

"Do you stay late when you know your skills need extra work?”

Khan was quiet. He blinked up at her, silently answering her question.

“I’ve seen a lot of men knighted in my day.” Twisted Ivy shifted her hooves, wincing at the pain of an old shoulder injury. “The difference between those that became mediocre and those that became great is that the great ones show up early. They stay late. They go through every meticulous step with and without help, to assure that it’s correct. They ask all the questions, even when they seem stupid. They focus on the details that don’t seem important at the time.”

The little boy seemed to be hanging on every word.

“Walk through your forms in the little moments when you’re waiting throughout the day - for your bathwater to boil, in line at the farmer’s market. Who cares if anyone sees! As long as a man knows how to do something right, he cannot do it wrong if he’s practiced it one thousand times,” Twisted Ivy continued.

“You know, Miss ’Ivy,” Khan said. “You know a lot about this stuff. What knight did you carry before you retired?”

“Many great knights,” Twisted Ivy replied, smiling, “but my first and true master was McKellan Wilson.”

Khan’s eyes widened to the size of moons as he realized. “You were the king’s unicorn,” he breathed, eyeing her with a new sense of awe. “That’s why you called me Kell.” After a moment, he snapped back to reality. “But surely King Kell never fell behind in training. He was the greatest knight the Firelands had ever seen! I mean, he defeated Iron Will in the Grimm War, and he was twice his age and his prowess!”

The words tugged at Twisted Ivy’s heart as she remembered that day. It had been a grim victory; the tears had flowed down McKellan’s face as he rose up for the first time as king, and his father’s lifeblood drained out and onto the land he had demanded become the battlefield where ultimately, he and his force fell to shambles.

“King Kell faced his fair share of struggles like all of us do. He was just a regular kid when I met him, just like you!” Twisted Ivy nudged Khan’s belly with her soft muzzle, making him laugh. “You only know of him that way not because he never struggled, but when he did run into obstacles, he didn’t give up. He allowed them to make him stronger. Just like this setback will do for you, as long as you keep trying and don’t ever give up on what you want. And that is what you want, more than anything, right? To become a knight?”

“Yes,” Khan said, twisting his fingers into her dark grey mane. “I want to be recognized someday among the greats.”

“Good,” Twisted Ivy said. “And you know what you must do today to be a step closer to that tomorrow, yes?”

“You think I should go back and work on what Elayne thinks I need to improve on?” Khan asked.

“What do you think?”

“Yeah.” Khan untangled his fingers and stepped back with a decisive nod. “I think so.” He started off toward the barn door, then stopped abruptly in his tracks. “Thanks for talking to me, Miss Ivy. I do appreciate it.”

“You’re a nice boy,” Twisted Ivy said. “You’ll have to come visit me again one day.”

“I’ll be back after training to show you what I learned!” Khan exclaimed. Then, he shot her a sideways glance, as if he suddenly felt shy. “That is, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Twisted Ivy laughed. “No one wants to visit a cranky old unicorn who spends most of her time in this rickety old barn anymore.”

Khan rocked onto his heels, leaning precariously against the door. “You’re not cranky,” he said indignantly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come back more, and hear more stories about when you and King Kell rode together.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Twisted Ivy said. “And who knows, if you’re up for it later I’ll teach you a few tricks they don’t officially teach the apprentices in training anymore.”

The little boy’s face lit up with excitement. “Thank you, Miss Ivy!”

“Now run along,” she said sternly, but she couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice. “You’ve missed enough training already. We’ll talk later this evening. And if you remember, bring a pouch of strawberries with you!”

Khan saluted in response and threw the door wide open, running out into the open meadow. Some of the unicorns grazing outside startled, lifting their heads to see what the commotion was about. Twisted Ivy watched him sprint back down the hill towards the training arena until she couldn’t see his bobbing form any longer.

For the first time since her injury had kick-started her retirement, Twisted Ivy started to feel like her old self. Not like the worn out old fighter living out her days meaninglessly in this barn, with its cracked and peeling paint. The young warriors had always helped her find her purpose; even though she couldn’t carry them into battle any longer, she realized she was still here to help them find their drive.

The king’s old unicorn finished her strawberries outside as the sun rose higher in the sky, awaiting the young boy’s sunset return. And for the first time since the king’s passing, the world felt right to her again.