The Unicorn Who Waited

The Fastest Magic

Every unicorn in Fernwood had a quick magic. One made flowers open with a sneeze. One painted rainbows across puddles. Orla's magic did nothing quickly at all.

Orla waited beside the pond each evening. The frogs grew used to her. A child called Ren began sitting there too.

“What are we waiting for?” Ren asked.

“I am not sure,” Orla admitted.

Things That Cannot Be Hurried

They noticed rings spread where fish touched the surface. They watched one white bud loosen, petal by petal. They heard the first owl before they saw it.

On the seventh evening, fog covered the path home. The other unicorns flashed and sparkled, but every bright spell bounced from the mist.

Orla stood still. She listened to the frogs. One called from the pond. Another answered farther along the stream. Fireflies gathered where she waited, then drifted one by one between the calls.

The Patient Path

Orla and Ren followed the slow lights home. Behind them came every unicorn in Fernwood.

“What sort of magic was that?” asked the rainbow unicorn.

Orla thought of the bud, the owl and the frogs. “The sort that arrives after you stop rushing past it.”

After that, Fernwood still admired fast magic. Fast magic was useful when you needed a rainbow immediately. But when a path was hidden or a heart was hurried, everyone went to find Orla by the pond.