Unexpected by Azzandra

I've known people that can anticipate anything. I've known people that know what I want to say before I say it. I've known precogs, oracles, clairvoyants.

But this is just instinct.

Something is going to happen today, and I fear it may not be what expected. What *I* expect it to be.

Am I getting ahead of myself? Sorry, I always do that. I'm Azzandra Megaire, and some might say I'm a third-hand witch. Well, yes, I am horrible at spells and have only the uncanny ability to create mass disasters. That doesn't stop me from trying.

Like now, I'm gathering herbs. I've found some pretty rare ones by now and I could even sell them. Heh, I could try being an ecomancer, if all else fails. Heard it's a piece of cake. Well, no... not really. I heard it's incredibly hard and frustrating. But it helps keeping a positive attitude.

A slight breeze ruffles the leaves. Or is it something else?...

I stop tentatively and frown. Someone-- or something-- was watching. I turn around slowly.

Then I gap.

It's not everyday you find unicorns staring at you.

It looks so... perfect. Perfect snow-white coat, spiraling horn, coal-black eyes... Beautiful. And all I can do is stare back.

I watched its delicate hooves raising themselves and moving on the dry leaves closer. I choked a scream when a black-green vine with thorns wrapped itself around the unicorn's back hoof.

Black rose bush... It feeds off magic, of any kind. Magic sustains it.

And right now, the unicorn seems the only sustaining substance close enough.

I grabbed a dagger and approach the vine, ready to cut it loose. But it works its way up the legs and starts wrapping itself tighter.

The unicorns starts kicking and screeching in protest.

I can't get close enough to cut the blasted plant. And he must've stepped on a bloody bush, because other vines are starting to sprout out of the ground and slyther in the air like tentacles around him.

He raises himself on his back legs and tries kicking the vines. They wrap themselves, grabbing his neck and strangling him.

He shakes his head, but the more he moves, the tighter the veins wrap.

With one final tug of the bush, he collapses, kicking spasmodically with his last breaths.

The thorny vines slash his white fur, openning large gashes. He closes his eyes tiredly, not protesting.

It wasn't a fair fight to begin with. I've seen smaller bushes kill gryphons the size of a small house.

The white-silvery blood seeps into the ground, when the black rose bush lurks. The vines unravel themselves off the unicorn's corpse and knot around eachother. The thorns fall almost instantly...

It's shedding. The thorns come off and small rosebuds grow instead. The rosebuds turn into full-fledged roses, white in colour. The vines themselves turn icy blue. Of course, they're still poisonous-- the combination of black witchcraft and unicorn blood isn't a very good one.

But... my instinct was right...

This was very... unexpected.

The End

Author Note: after writing "The Dragon, the Witch and the Tomatoes" I felt like writing something less humorous. But yeah, you could say these two fics are related.