The Legend of The Golden Unicorn Head Lamp

There is a legend behind that unicorn lamp you know. It is a story of lost love, blood stained golden greed, and heroism for all the wrong reasons.

Once Upon a time there was a man on the run from King Midas. You see this man had betrayed the King of Gold. He was a thief. But he was no ordinary thief. Besides a golden sword formed by Midas’s touch, he hadn’t stolen anything of material value from the King. No, what he stole was much more significant.

He stole the heart of Midas’s Daughter. A heart that was betrothed to another to join two kingdoms at war and usher in a new era of peace. A heart that was not his to take, but the man took it anyways. Midas discovered his daughter’s infatuation and threatened to behead the man if he didn’t leave the kingdom. The desire to keep his head trumped his love for the girl and he left later that night. In his wake he left nothing but a letter for her.

The contents of the letter are unknown. Although, after receiving it and being weakened by depression, the daughter fell deathly ill. The King wasted no time in placing full blame of his daughter’s fragile state upon the man. Word spread far and fast of Midas’s Daughter’s illness along with the reward for the man’s head reportedly responsible.

A few days later the man stumbled across his own wanted poster. After quickly ripping it from the wall he ducked behind an inn to read it’s contents. The reward for bringing him dead to the King was 50 pounds of gold, alive was 100 pounds. He held his impending death in his hands. He was royally screwed. Before crumpling up the poster he discovered the only ray of hope for him written on the bottom. “Find/deliver a cure for the princess. 150 lbs reward.” That was it. The only way to save his own life was the save the life of Midas’s daughter and win back his favor.

The kingdom fell into a frenzy over the next few weeks. People ran around chasing after dreams of gold in hopes of escaping their miserable poverty stricken lives. The kingdom subtly fell into darkness as greed crept into the hearts of many less fortunate souls. Innocent lives were ended by those blinded by hunger, knives in hand, trying to carve out a better future for themselves by erasing the future of others. Many people entered the palace with claims of having found the cure or the perpetrator. And just as many people exited the palace empty handed.

One day the man entered a tavern for a drink. Being weary from hiding and chasing many unfruitful trails of miracle cures had earned him a drink or two. After quickly reaching the bottom of his second beer, a group of 5 men entered the tavern and sat at a table adjacent to his. They talked about forming a hunting party in search of a magical beast. A horned horse demon whose blood could cure any ailment. One of the them rolled out an old scroll. It depicted a map of a nearby mountain range and a foggy valley hidden within.

“That’s where we’ll find the beast,” he uttered, gesturing to the foggy valley. “The horned bastard will be our ticket to the good life.”

The man overheard all their plans to gather resources and meet in 2 days time. They were to meet at the well in the center of town before departing on their quest. This trail was as good as any. So two days later he found them leaving from the well and began to follow them unseen from the shadows.

For 3 days he followed the hunting party deep into the mountains. In a past life the man was a smuggler, so sneaking around unseen came second nature to him. He followed them all the way to the crest of one of the mountains. As he reached the apex the valley of fog unfolded before him on the other side. It was so thick and vast that the surrounding mountain range appeared to be floating in the sky.

He watched as the party descended below into the grey murky air. As he began his down hill descent the fog slowly became thicker and thicker. The sun slowly faded and disappeared overhead as the fog swallowed the man whole separating him from the outside world.

The man could hardly see the trees 10 feet in front of him, and the group of men had disappeared from sight entirely. Relying on the sound of their rustling gear and footsteps the man tracked them deeper and deeper into the valley. The fog grew thicker still as the air grew colder the deeper they descended. The ground finally started to flatten out when he heard voices from up ahead.

“Shhh, did you hear that?..”

“…"

“No, the fog is just playing tricks on y..."

“Shhhh! Seriously, something is out there.."

“I didn’t hear any.."

“Shut up and draw your swords."

Their whispers ominously floated from the grey void followed by the metallic echoes of unsheathing swords. The man reached beneath his cloak and wrapped his fingers firmly around his sword’s hilt, slowly removing the grand golden sword he had stolen from the king.

A sound unlike any other sound the man had ever heard then erupted from within the fog. The sound was like a combination of nails on a chalk board with the angry guttural bray of a stallion. The noise was then married with the racket of men shouting and crying out in agony along with the sound of clanging steel.

Chilling electricity shot through the man's veins as the horrifying circus reached his ears. With sword in hand he charged blindly into the fog towards the commotion. The figures of the men started materializing within the fog. That’s when he saw it...

The monstrous white horse charged at one of the other men impaling him through the chest with it’s large horn and pinning him against a tree.

“FRANCIIIIIS!!!” shouted one of the men as he bolted in bringing cold steel down upon the beast’s ivory flesh. The sword bounced off of the stallion’s hide, the flesh left unscathed.

The beast whipped his head to the side ripping through the pinned man’s chest splattering hot blood onto the forest floor. It whirred around and stood on it’s hind legs, then let out a demonic bray before coming down hard on the other man with it’s giant front hooves, snapping his ribs like twigs.

It’s black eyes caught site of one of the other men running away. It stampeded after him, both of them disappearing into the abyss. The man with the golden sword in hand ran over to the beast’s last victim lying on the ground, his chest smashed in.

The unfortunate soul on the ground looked up at the man, his watery eyes filled with fear and confusion. He tried to talk but was interrupted by coughing up blood. He managed to sputter something inaudible before his eyes went blank.

A guttural cry of agony suddenly shot through the fog. The savage creature had descended upon his next prey, the fellow’s last words nothing but a shriek of pain lost in a cloudy sea. What followed were the loudest seconds of silence the man had ever experienced.

The air was hauntingly still. The smell of blood was contradicted by an oddly sweet aroma that surrounded the area.

There was one other hunter left, barely visible although nearby, stabling himself on his sword with his left hand, and holding a bleeding wound on his side with his right.

The demonic stallion’s silhouette slowly appeared in the fog, his hooves lightly stepping on the forest floor, not making a sound.

“Screw the gold..” the hunter muttered before turning around and running.

The beast let out another shriek and bursted through the fog, crimson splattered across it’s white face. It lunged towards the hunter. Diving in, the man with his golden sword stabbed it in the side, impaling it causing it to veer off course and ram into a tree.

It stabled itself, stomped it’s feet and grunted before charging again, this time at the man. Sword in hand he dove at the last second dragging the golden blade through the beast's left side. Dark purple blood sprayed out into the fog.

The horse stumbled into the dirt. It shakily regained it’s footing and turned to face the two men. It stood there for a moment just staring at the two, breathing heavily. Then it bucked, let out another bone chilling bray, and bolted towards them.

“Hold your ground!” the man shouted.

As the beast drew closer the man lifted the golden sword still dripping in blood above his head, and with a yell hurled it at the charging steed.

It struck the beast right in the head impaling into its skull right above its horn. The beast dropped and slid to their feet. The two men collapsed to the ground and sat there, staring at the giant fallen steed laying before them, trying to process the events that just transpired.

The thick fog began to dissipate as the golden rays of the sun began to break through the murky air. The beauty of the forest began to unfold before them, only marred by the broken bodies of the fallen men. The beast’s blood reflected a full spectrum of colors as the light reflected off of the deep purple pools spreading across the forest floor before them.

A week later the two men arrived at the palace, exhausted from their long journey and bonded by their experience. They were granted access to the throne room where the man bartered his life and freedom for delivering the cure. He pulled the beast’s head out of a bag by the horn and presented it along with a vile of the beast’s blood to the king.

The king removed the glove from his right hand and placed it upon the beast’s head, turning it into gold. He agreed to their terms if and only if the cure worked.

A week later Midas’s daughter had fully recovered and the king payed both the men 150 lbs of gold each. The man was still required to leave the kingdom, but he left in style and lived out his days in luxury.

The head of the beast had a hole where the sword had impaled it. They began using it as a candle holder which the king kept on his bedside table. He never had a bad dream again. The kingdom went on to experience many years of peace and prosperity. They began to consider the horned horse, later to be called a unicorn, a good luck charm and good omen.

Entrepreneurs began to craft fake golden unicorn heads and selling them in town squares and pawn shops as charms. They were said to bring the owners wealth and prosperity, followed by promises that when placed in the home they would ward off evil spirits.

Over the following centuries the story of the real unicorn was blurred and forgotten. Replaced by the rainbows and butterflies version we know today. Now only random knick knacks remain like the above pictured lamp from target, it’s origins long forgotten, swallowed by the fog of time.