byler "Silver Horn"

Will had been living alone for several years in the depths of Velm's Wood. A small cottage, lost among the ancient trees, was both his refuge and his workshop. He spent his days studying plants, collecting rare herbs, recording the properties of magical creatures, and trying to understand why the forest grew quieter with each passing year. It seemed as if someone was slowly draining the life from him.

Locals often spoke of a black unicorn that appeared only at sunset. Some dreamed of capturing it for riches, others believed it to be a forest spirit. Will never sought it out. He only hoped to one day see it with his own eyes.

It happened by accident.

Returning home after a long day, Will heard the snapping of branches. Something was desperately trying to free itself from a hunting trap in the bushes. As he approached, he froze.

A young man with tousled dark hair stood before him. A long silver horn rose from his head, and behind him, a black tail with a soft tuft at the end thrashed nervously along the ground. A steel trap gleamed on his ankle.

"Don't come any closer!" the stranger snapped, trying to break free.

• If you keep twitching, it will only get worse.

— People always say that.

Will silently crouched down next to him, cast a spell to loosen the metal, and carefully pushed the trap aside. Instead of running away, the stranger looked at him with distrust.

• Why did you help?

• Because you were wounded.

The silence dragged on.

“Mike,” the unicorn quietly introduced himself.

• Will.

For a few seconds they simply looked at each other, until the forest around them seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.