Unicorn

Hello and welcome to this episode of Fab Figmentals. 

I’m Lindsey Morse, your guide through the realm of curious creatures, magical monsters, and beautiful beasts. Each episode, we dive into the folklore and history of a different fab figmental, and share an original vignette inspired by stories that have been told throughout the ages.

I’m really excited about this week’s episode. Today, we’re going to be looking at one of the most famous legendary creatures of all time— and one that’s having a bit of a pop culture moment— the unicorn. Unicorns are an interesting study, because pretty much everyone knows what they look like and *thinks* they know a thing or two about them. But, I can assure you, there’s more to the history and lore of this incredible beast than pinterest-friendly cakes, glittery kid’s toys, and regal heraldry. The legendary unicorn has been making appearances in cultures across the world since antiquity, and in this episode we’re going to look at how this famous creature has been depicted throughout art and history. We’ll explore some of the strange, often overlooked aspects of unicorn lore, and we’ll ask why this fantastical creature — after so many centuries—  still holds such a special place in our hearts. 

But first, we’re going to dive into some of our very own, original unicorn folklore. Before we get started, I want to mention something kind of interesting. Despite the unicorn being probably THE most well known mythological creature of all time, there’s a real dearth of unicorn folklore out there. We’ll talk more about why this might be later on in the episode, but it’s likely due to the fact that- for a long time- unicorns weren’t considered supernatural creatures. They were believed to be real, living, breathing animals. And while not everyone back then seemed to agree on where you might find an actual unicorn, it was an accepted fact that they are notoriously difficult to catch. People believed that there was really only one way to get your hands on one… as we’ll see in today’s vignette. 

Please sit, back, relax, and enjoy today’s story. It was penned by me and it’s called: “The Unicorn Cure.”

—————

The king was sick. 

For as long as Millie could remember, her uncle’s cough was as much as part of him as his short temper and jet black hair. But recently it had gotten worse. These days, he rarely left his private chambers, and— when he did— she seldom saw him without a crimson-spotted handkerchief in his hand. 

The usual bustling energy of the palace hallways had been transformed in the wake of his illness. The once-raucous atmosphere was gone. Most of the courtiers tucked themselves away in their quarters, and those that did emerge shuffled nervously, trying not to draw attention to themselves. 

Only the doctors dared to speak to one another. Called in from all corners of the kingdom, they paced the palace corridors, toting large leather bags that clinked as they walked— all searching for a cure. 

But none had been found. 

So, last week, the king sent all of the doctors away, and an old man took their place. 

The alchemist arrived at the palace dressed in heavy, navy-colored robes and a velvet hat that did little to contain his frizzy grey hair. His assistants carried towering stacks of dusty books and well-worn tomes. Guards led the wizened man and his associates to the king, and Millie tiptoed behind them, curious. 

The men entered the royal chambers, and the heavy wooden door shut behind them with an echoing WUMPTH! 

Millie rushed forward and pressed her body against the door, cupping her hands around her eyes and finding the small crack that she’d peeped through so many times before. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she saw the old man bow to her uncle, who was covered with blankets on his red chaise.

The alchemist flipped through one of the large volumes, pointing at one page, then another, he spoke fervently. Millie could make out words here and there… “horn”… “magic”… “cure.” The alchemist then pointed at the door. The guards rushed forward, and Millie fell backward, doing her best to scamper away. She didn’t want to be caught snooping.

The large door creaked open, and she froze. Two guards loomed over her, clearly surprised to see her splayed out on the stone floor. 

The king let out a tired sigh, “Millicent, come here please. Your presence is required.” 

———

And now, here she was. Alone in the forest, sitting beneath a large pomegranate tree. 

After she had been brought inside the king’s chambers, the alchemist had explained that the only way to cure her uncle was with a unicorn horn. One of the great creatures had been spotted near the palace, but— he explained— only she could help them catch it. 

She leaned back against the trunk of the tree and looked up into its branches. She could just make out the netting the alchemist had rigged up in betwixt the pomegranates; her eyes followed it over and down to the long trigger rope that lay coiled at her feet. All she had to do was give the rope a soft tug, and the net would fall. That is— if a unicorn would ever actually show up. She’d been here now for three days without sight of anything except for a few curious pigeons. 

Well, she figured, she might as well get comfortable. She fluffed up her petticoats, arranged her long braids into a makeshift pillow, and shut her eyes. 

The next thing she knew, she felt a conk right on the top of her head. Her eyes squinted open and landed on a pomegranate rolling away from her. Great, she couldn’t even pass the time by napping without being beaten awake by falling fruit. She shut her eyes and groaned. To her surprise, her utterance was met with a low snort. 

Waking up with a jolt, she became aware of a warmth and weight on her thighs. To her utter amazement, she cradled the head of a unicorn in her lap. 

The creature nuzzled into her, and delicately rubbed its nose against her dress. Carefully, she stroked its muzzle and admired its long, fibrous horn. Heavy and grayish brown, it twisted up into a roughened point. It looked a lot like the exposed, coiling root of the pomegranate tree. 

Minutes passed, or maybe longer, before Millie remembered the task at hand. She reached back, careful not to disturb the gentle beast, and found the coil of rope. 

She gave it a light tug, and the netting fell atop them both. 

Almost immediately, guards rushed out from the surrounding trees, wielding spears. 

Startled, the unicorn stood up and bucked, but its horn and hooves tangled in the netting and the great white animal fell to the earth. It looked over at Millie, and she could see the fear in its large brown eyes. 

The guards descended on them, and the unicorn squealed and whined as it was roughly dragged away. Millie reached out in protest, and tears filled her eyes as she saw one of the spears fall loose in the scuffle and slice the neck of the giant horse. The unicorn convulsed and tried to stab the guards with its horn.

“Calm down ye brute,” one of the guards hissed. “Just wait till they grind off that horn ah yers. Then ye’ll not be so dangerous, eh?” He spat. “Then ye’ll just be dead.”

As blood splattered across the unicorn’s pristine white mane, Millie thought of her uncle’s red-speckled handkerchief. And fainted. 

———

She awoke in her bed to darkness and the thumping of her heart. 

The unicorn! That dastardly guard had said they planned to kill it. Was it too late for her to save it? 

She threw back the covers and rushed out of the room. She wasn’t sure where to find the animal, but the stables were as good a guess as any. She ran— quietly as she could— out of the palace and into the warm spring night. 

She came upon the stables, and knew immediately that her guess had paid off. The stalls that held the royal stallions were all empty, save for one. She’d found the unicorn. 

She hurried over, and tried to squeeze her small body between the bars of the stall door. She was too big to fit through, but she was close enough to the unicorn to see that, while injured and chained tightly to the wall, it was okay. Apart from the scrape on its neck, the creature was unharmed. 

Relieved, Millie stepped back and set to work unlatching the heavy gate. She pulled it open and ran over to the unicorn, who let her hug and pet its head. 

She surveyed the chains.

They were locked, but there was enough slack that she was able to get them off without the key. Heavily, they clanked to the floor. 

The unicorn sprang to life, whinnying and shaking its mane. It gracefully bolted out of the stall, and Millie watched with awe. It really was magnificent. 

Now free, the great creature turned, and caught the edge of the gate with its massive hindquarters. The gate slammed shut.

Millie heard it latch from the outside.

She ran to the bars and tried pushing the gate back open, but it wouldn’t budge, and she couldn’t reach the latch from inside the stall.

She was trapped. 

The unicorn looked back and, for a moment, their eyes locked. Then, the great creature galloped out into the night. 

——————

Along with mermaids and dragons, unicorns are one of the best known legendary creatures of all time. References to them can be found across the ages and throughout the world. The first depiction of the unicorn can be traced all the way back to the ancient seals of the Indus Valley Civilization, a bronze-age civilization that flourished in South Asia from 3300 to 1300 BCE. From there, whispers of the unicorn found their way to Greece, Rome, Persia, Ethiopia, and China. But, interestingly, the creature didn’t always find a home in myth. 

The Greeks and Romans both believed that the unicorn was real, and travelers to far away lands seem to have confirmed rumors of their existence. India seemed to be the place to find them. 

Pliny the Elder, a Roman naturalist, included the unicorn in his encyclopedic collection: Natural History. Though, Pliny’s description is a fair bit different than the one we know today. “The unicorn,” he wrote, “is the fiercest animal, and it is said that it is impossible to capture one alive. It has the body of a horse, the head of a stag, the feet of an elephant, the tail of a boar, and a single black horn three feet long in the middle of its forehead. Its cry is a deep bellow.”

The unicorn then found its way into the Bible, at least according to some translations. Here we see its strength and ferocity confirmed. Take this example from Numbers 24:8: “God brought him forth out of Egypt; he hath as it were the strength of a unicorn: he shall eat up the nations his enemies, and shall break their bones, and pierce them through with his arrows.”

Flash forward to the Middle Ages, and we find the unicorn now regularly depicted in paintings, tapestries, and books. European folklore has transformed the once chimeric beast into more or less the creature we think of today: a white horse-like animal with a long horn and cloven hooves. 

Around this time, the mythology takes on an interesting twist. 

7th century scholar Isidore of Seville notes that the unicorn, “is very strong and pierces anything it attacks. It fights with elephants and kills them by wounding them in the belly.” He continues, “the unicorn is too strong to be caught by hunters except by a trick: If a virgin girl is placed in front of a unicorn and she bares her breast to it, all of its fierceness will cease and it will lay its head on her bosom, and thus quieted is easily caught.”

Right. At this point you might be thinking, WHAT? That chapter was missing from my My Little Pony Cartoons… But you heard right: only a virginal maiden can lure a pure and graceful unicorn. 

The sexual undertones of this scene are pretty obvious. The etherial and elusive creature with the large phallic horn is drawn only to the beauty and innocence of a young virgin. 

And I have to wonder, how many poor girls— like the one in our story today— we drug out into the woods over the years to be used as unicorn bait? 

As unicorns found a firm hold in European lore, things got even crazier. Encyclopedias declared that unicorn horn held the power to render poisoned water potable and to heal sickness, and throughout medieval and renaissance times, unicorn horn was in high demand. It was believed that if you stirred some ground up unicorn horn in your food or wine, it could detect poison, so it was a must-have item with the paranoid royal set. A single “unicorn horn”— often a narwhal tusk— could go for tens of thousands of dollars in today’s money. Poor narwhals. 

Today, I doubt there are many who still believe unicorns are real; but, despite that, they might be more popular than ever before. One quick search on Etsy returns over 300,000 products, and things like unicorn horn chalk, unicorn birthday cake slime, and customizable “adult toys” shaped like unicorn horns are all selling very well. Millennials, in particular, seem to have gone gaga in recent years for unicorn-inspired rainbow scrubs, cosmetics, and pool floats.

I’d like to end this episode with a bizarre story that came out of North Korea in late 2012, that’s really just too good not to share. According to The Guardian, and I quote:

Korean Central News Agency (KCNA) has now broken the incredible news that archaeologists in Pyongyang have discovered a unicorn's lair. Or rather, the report says that they have "recently reconfirmed" the lair of one of the unicorns ridden by the ancient Korean King Tongmyong, founder of a kingdom which ruled parts of China and the Korean peninsula from the the 3rd century BC to 7th century AD. The KCNA goes on to state that the location happens to be 200 metres from a temple in the North Korean capital, adding: "A rectangular rock carved with words "Unicorn Lair" stands in front of the lair."

But don’t get too excited. A week later, the paper ran a candid followup. “There is only one problem with the story,” they wrote. “It isn't exactly true.” Apparently, there had been a serious flaw with the translation of the original story. The North Korean government had never actually claimed to have found a unicorn lair. No, no. Instead, the cave was actually reported to be the ancient home of the kirin, a cloven-hooved creature with antlers and the head of a dragon. 

-closing music-

Thank you so much for tuning in to this episode of Fab Figmentals! I hope you enjoyed it.

Research, writing, and sound editing are done by me, Lindsey Morse. Niall Cooper assists with writing and editing. Our theme music was created by the wonderfully talented Graeme Ronald. 

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If you like learning about creatures that lurk in the shadows, perhaps you’d be interested in learning more about humanity’s darker side. If so, please also check out our sister show, Assassinations Podcast.

Thanks again for listening, and I hope you’ll join me next week, when we’ll explore the mythology and lore surrounding one of my favorite deadly duos from Greek and Roman mythology: Charybdis & Scylla. 

We’ll see you next time.