The evening sky stretched above Oskar in a canvas of deep indigo and dusky rose, where the last embers of sunlight smoldered on the horizon, slowly giving way to a rising blanket of stars. A cool breeze carried the crisp scent of autumn, rustling the trees that lined the distant trail. His gaze drifted downward, and there—bathed in the twilight glow—stood Clara, her silhouette still against the fading light. A quiet intensity lingered in her posture, as if she were waiting, watching. Without a second thought, Oskar turned sharply, entering his bedroom with hurried steps. He flung open the wardrobe, choosing his cloak in swift movements, and dashed toward the palace hallways, his thoughts fixed solely on her.

A short while later, as the sunset disappeared, Oskar arrived at the edge of the forest. Clara was nowhere to be seen.

Did she go into the forest?

Oskar sighed, glancing back over his shoulder at the distance doorway he just came from. He didn't have any reason to worry—the danger was gone, that much he knew. With the general and the two guards locked away in the dungeons, Clara was safe. But Oskar did not like that she was wandering alone.

"Thiago," he said to himself, turning in the direction of the stables and making a run for it.

* * *

Oskar clutched Thiago's reins, keeping the creature at a steady trot. He had been riding for a while now without a sign of Clara. Starlit Forest was peaceful—crickets sang their evening songs, accompanied by the gentle rustling of the wind in the trees. This was the calmest the forest had been in many days, as if the world itself had paused, waiting.

Moonlight poured through the canopy in soft ribbons, casting a silvery glow along the path ahead. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and the faintest trace of something familiar—Clara's presence lingering just beyond his reach. Oskar exhaled, his breath a quiet cloud in the night air. He had expected the tension of pursuit, the urgency of a chase, but instead, there was something else. A pull, as if he was meant to find her.

And then, up ahead, a figure emerged from the trees, bathed in moonlight, waiting for him.

"Your Highness, please follow me."

Oskar was startled to hear Clara's voice carry through the trees, as if she were standing right beside him despite the growing distance between them. A whisper of wind stirred the leaves, shimmering with an eerie silver sheen beneath the starlight. Fireflies hovered like tiny floating lanterns, flickering in the cool night air. He urged Thiago forward, his pulse quickening as Clara turned back into the woods, her silhouette ghostly beneath the moon-drenched canopy. The forest felt alive, expectant, as if it, too, was following her lead.

Then the river came into view. And Oskar gasped.

At the water's edge, serene and regal, stood a herd of unicorns, their pearlescent coats glowing beneath the starlight. Most were pristine white, their manes cascading like rivers of silk, but among them stood others—one as pale as morning fog, another a soft silver, and a few with golden hues that shimmered like sunlight trapped in their fur. Yet it was the onyx-colored unicorns that caught Oskar's attention most. Their sleek, dark coats absorbed the moonlight, making them appear as living shadows against the river's glow. One of them, standing slightly apart from the others, bore a striking red horn—its color deep as garnet, glistening like fire against the night. The presence of the unicorns turned the moment into something timeless, something sacred, as if the very air hummed with an ancient and powerful magic.

"Prince Oskar, you have done a great service for our people."

"Yes," replied the Queen, dipping her head as her ivory horn glimmered with light. "Prince Oskar, we are indebted to you. Were it not for your kindness and unwavering resolve, our kind would have faded into nothingness. Others may have taken the horn for their own gain, or perhaps left it behind, forgetting the sacred duty it carries. But you chose another path—you listened, you remembered, and you acted not for yourself, but for those in need."

She lifted her head, her silver eyes gleaming with emotion. "Because of you, the balance has been restored. Because of you, our herd runs free beneath the stars once more. We will not forget this, nor shall our children, or their children after them. Your name will be spoken in reverence, passed from mother to foal, carried on in stories of honor and sacrifice."

As she stepped back, the crimson-horned Unicorn took her place. His gaze met Oskar's, steady and knowing. "You have proven yourself worthy, Prince," he said, his voice like distant thunder. With a graceful motion, he conjured a small, shimmering object—its glow pulsing faintly with unseen power. He extended it toward Oskar.

"This is not merely a token," the Unicorn continued. "It is knowledge—forgotten by most, dangerous in the wrong hands, and powerful beyond measure. There will come a time when you will understand its purpose, but until then, you must guard it well." His voice lowered, carrying the weight of a solemn vow. "Protect this with your life, for knowledge lost is power stolen, and there are those who would see it erased forever."

As Oskar reached out, the shimmering light swirled around his fingers, weightless yet heavy with meaning. It pulsed once—like the slow, steady beat of a heart—before dissolving into a cascade of silver embers. The warmth of it seeped into his chest, threading through his very being, as if the knowledge itself had become a part of him. For a fleeting moment, he saw flashes of something vast and ancient—fragments of whispers, symbols he did not yet understand, a sense of urgency wrapped in the quiet hum of the universe. Then, just as quickly, the glow faded, leaving only a lingering presence in his mind, a secret waiting to be uncovered.

The Unicorns began to move, their hooves barely disturbing the surface of the water, Oskar watched in silent awe. One by one, they faded into the mist that clung to the riverbank, their ethereal forms melting into the moonlit night as if they had never been there at all. The last to disappear was the crimson-horned Unicorn, its gaze lingering on Oskar for a heartbeat longer, as if to seal an unspoken promise. The stillness returned, the night reclaiming its peaceful quiet, and yet Oskar stood rooted to the spot, feeling the presence of the Unicorns lingering in his soul.

Just as he turned to leave, a soft rustling of wind drew his attention back to the edge of the forest. There, in the shadows, Clara stood—her form shifting, her silhouette shimmering with a light that seemed to come from within. Her skin glowed with the soft radiance of white gold, her long mane and tail adorned with delicate flowers that bloomed like stars in the night. She was no longer the girl he had known, but a vision of beauty that seemed to embody the very magic of the forest. Oskar's breath caught in his throat as she fully transformed, her eyes meeting his with a depth of emotion he had never seen before.

"Farewell, my lord prince," she said, and trotted off after the rest of the herd. Leaving the prince dumbfounded where he stood.