Prince Oskar rarely hiked through the forest alone. Not without Thiago, anyway. Even though the horse was still learning, Oskar felt perfectly safe and at ease.

Starlit Forest was calm, save for the birds chirping and the wind rustling the branches of the trees. The scent of pine and damp earth combined with forest flora filled Oskar's nostrils. He inhaled deeply, appreciating the fresh air after the several days of rain which confined him within the palace walls.

A gentle gust whipped the tuffs of Oskar's blond hair into his eyes. He huffed a breath at it, as if that would move it out of his sight. And he groaned when it fell back. Sighing, he brushed his hair aside, untangling his fingers with a short yank. Perhaps he needed his hair trimmed; it had been a while and Oskar preferred to keep his hair shorter.

Beyond the thick line of trees was Starlit River, the gathering place of all creatures. Oskar often came here just for an escape. More often with his older twin brother, Erasmus—ever the prankster and eager to win every game. However; today, Erasmus would be busy with the tutor, making Oskar's outing all the sweeter as he enjoyed his solidarity. And on days when the sun peered through the highest branches, casting its radiant warmth to the forest floor, Oskar was glad his brother was not with him.

"Perhaps leaving Thiago was not a great idea," he said to himself, bringing his canteen to his lips and taking a quick drink of chilled water. He glanced around before moving to take rest on beneath a large weeping tree. Oskar placed his satchel to the side, propping his canteen beside it. Then, as he looked around at the forest, the air shifted.

Something was wrong.

To the naked eye, the forest remained as it had been since Oskar started his hike. Peaceful and nature-abundant. Now, it was as if an invisible darkness had descended. Like fog in the evening hours.

A shrill cry filled the air. It was unlike anything Oskar had ever heard before. His heart pounded in his chest, rising in his throat just before dropping to the pit of his stomach. The sensation horrified him—he wanted to go home to the comfort of his mother's embrace. But when he looked at his belongings beside him, his arms did not reach for them. A shiver traveled up his spine as he failed to will his hands forward.

Why am I so frightened?

Oskar closed his eyes, inhaling before letting out his breath in a slow, steady stream. But his shoulders still shuddered. Oddly, his hands moved to rub his arms as a chill came over him.

He continued his deep breathing until the beat of his heart slowed. His limbs recollected their purpose, and he was finally able to retrieve his things. Oskar pulled the strap of his satchel over his head and clutched the canteen to his chest.

Breathe, Oskar. Everything is fine.

Was everything fine? He rose to his feet, using the tree at his back to support the action. His legs moved without a second thought. Oskar turned toward the path and stepped with care as he made his way back toward the palace. Perhaps it was fine. Unconsciously, he began to whistle a cheery tune, as if Unarion's Ode to Starlight would ward off whatever evil lurked in the shadows.

Oskar lost his footing as the toe of his left boot hooked beneath a tree root and his balance failed. He fell forward and landed hard on his chest. Air ejected from his lungs like the juice of a berry when pressed between one's fingers. It took him a moment to catch his breath before he rolled over and sat upright.

"Mother will fuss," he said as he dusted the sleeves of his cream shirt. He steadied himself, writing off the incident as a moment of unexpected clumsiness. Anyone could have tripped over an uprooted tree.

However, as Oskar's gaze went to his offender, his entire being went rigid.

Where he expected to see a thick tree root, instead he saw a twisting piece of delicate ivory, its once-pristine surface marred by streaks of glistening crimson. Blood? The liquid pooled in the delicate grooves spiraling up its length, catching the smallest fraction of light like molten rubies.

"Unicorn horn," Oskar gasped as he scrambled to have a closer look. He had heard the tales, believed in their existence with every fiber of his being. But he had never seen one himself. Granted, spotting a Unicorn was like searching for a needle in a stack of hay. They were elusive, always staying just beyond human sight.

"Who did this horrible thing?"

He reached out his left hand, letting his fingers hover over the horn. But he hesitated—the thought of touching a real Unicorn's horn felt forbidden, despite the urge. Oskar retracted his hand, still staring at the glowing object. It appeared to be the full length of his arm, and perhaps it was about the same width at the smaller end. And as he leaned closer, the sharp, metallic tang of blood filled his senses—coppery and raw, thick in the air like a storm about to break, mingling with the damp earth beneath him.

"Fresh," Oskar muttered as he again reached for the horn. His fingers wrapped around the middle section—the blood was sticky and cold from air exposure, but the horn itself was warm to the touch. The weight was surprising—denser than he expected, like holding a limb of solid bone or a smooth piece of carved stone.

Oskar moved to his knees and then to his feet, balancing the horn in both hands. He looked around, but there was nothing to indicate that there had ever been any creature or beast in the vicinity. Nor did the forest show him any signs of distress. His heart pounded in his chest once more as he returned his gaze to the horn. His eyes stung as tears welled up and the weight of the horn crept to his shoulder, like a double-strapped shoulder bag that had been stuffed too heavily. He thought of the majestic creature it once belonged to, and a sob escaped his mouth.

Holding the horn in one hand, Oskar dug into his satchel and produced the dry shirt he'd brought in the event he went swimming. And with the greatest care, he wrapped the horn in the garment before returning both to his satchel. Oskar then turned back toward the path home, determined to find his father.

* * *

Upon Oskar's return to the palace, his personal servant Matthias met him. Not much older than he, Oskar got along with Matthias better than his own twin, though he cared for Erasmus dearly.

"The queen was looking for you, Your Highness," Matthias said as he followed two paces behind Oskar. "She said to send you her way when you returned."

"I will see her after I've spoken with my father," Oskar replied as they rounded the great hallways.

The marbled floors gleamed as three maids worked together to polish every inch. They smiled and curtsied as the prince passed, giggling to themselves. Any other day, Oskar would have acknowledged them, but the horn in his satchel held his focus. He sighed and his shoulders sagged when he saw his father coming toward him with his assistant close behind.

"Oskar, my boy!" Father said, his smiling faltering when he saw Oskar's frown. "What's the matter?"

"I was out in the forest," Oskar replied, reaching into his satchel. "And there was a terrifying cry in the air, so I was making my way back, and I came across this—"

He brought out horn and unwrapped it from his shirt, which was now stained red-brown. Father gasped as Oskar placed the horn in his hands.

"Pardon my boldness," Matthias said, standing closer to see better. "Is that—"

"A Unicorn's horn, yes," the king said, raising the ivory to the light. "Unara's land has always been their home... Oskar, did you see the actual creature?"

He shook his head. "No, and there was nothing to indicate there had been anything amiss."

Oskar observed his father's expression—the way his brows furrowed and corners of his mouth pulled downward, Oskar knew his father was just a perplexed and saddened as he was.

"This is a horrible thing and we should look into it," the king stated, placing the horn in the hands of his assistant. "Georg, with great care, take this to the council chambers. I shall follow shortly. Oskar—" he turned his gaze to his son, "I know your mother was looking for you. Hurry along for now; I will send for you soon."

Oskar dipped his chin as his father left after the servant. It took him a moment to compose himself before turning back up the hall toward his mother's parlor.