Author's Notes: I returned to Maple Story again after a long hiatus today and was intrigued by the new story lines that were introduced. Bear with me if I've gotten some of the details botched. For those of you who are interested, I will be wrapping up Sinful Jungle Nights by the end of next week.

Chapter One: A Freudian Slip

Some girls wanted ponies when they were little. Not me. I wanted a unicorn. The biggest and baddest 'corn that anyone laid eyes on. And since my mama was Elf Queen, no one had the balls to tell me that my request was abso-fucking-lutely ridiculous because unicorns were untamable. The damn things were too smart and proud to follow orders from anybody. They snickered at the harnesses we put on our horses and flew away whenever we approached them; they liked flapping dust in our eyes as they left.

Like I said: damn things. Still, a little setback didn't keep me from bawling out my baby blue eyes until someone finally caved to my young feminine wiles.

It was one of the Elders who suggested turning my request into an island-wide competition to see who could catch me a 'corn. Mama figured the publicity wouldn't hurt, but that was just like her. Publicity was everything to our small town, which thrived on the tourism industry. Mostly Mama just wanted more mages from nearby Ellinia to come and teach us more magic.

The competitors slowly trickled in on registration day. Even though I was only nine at the time, I wanted to see what kind of people had the guts to take on a fully-grown unicorn. Most of them were mages, who promised me that the spells they were working on would be strong enough to force a unicorn down on its knees and blow me. They didn't exactly put it in those words, but I was a precocious child – I could read between the lines like nobody's business. A handful were thieves who offered to steal a unicorn baby for me, though how they thought they'd get away with that was beyond even my advanced comprehension. Unicorn mothers are fiercely protective of their young; it was not unheard of for a nursing mother to kill anything that threatened their babes.

Mama oversaw the registration process with her usual awe-inspiring, I-can-make-men-do-anything, women-are-always-jealous-of-me look, but I could discern a sharp interest in her eyes as each registrant walked by. I reckoned she was weighing the worth of each visitor, trying to sum up how much they had to offer to our town, whether they would be useful additions to any of our industries. That was Mama for you in a nutshell: she was always scheming.

When everyone who wanted to had registered, Mama closed the registration list and explained the rules. No abuse, no cheating, and no entries were accepted beyond the two weeks given for the competition.

Two weeks flew by faster than a unicorn on fire. I was seated next to Mama on my own mini-throne, carved out of ivory and gilded in gold, waiting impatiently for my pet unicorn to arrive. My feet were dangling from my chair, and I was kicking the legs of my chair with my shoes. I waited. And waited. And waited.

By late afternoon, long past the deadline, no one had arrived. Seeing my disappointment – and impending tantrum – she ruffled my hair and brought me into the folds of a hug. I pushed back the hot tears that hovered at the edges of my eyes. I had wanted a unicorn so fucking badly.

At that moment, the doors swung open – big wooden ones that squeaked – and a little boy no older than I was walked in, carrying, in his arms –

"My baby unicorn!"I squealed as I pushed my mother's arms away and ran up to the boy. "Where did you get him?" I reached out to grab the white unicorn, but the boy frowned and stepped back abruptly, causing me to lose my step and fall flat on my face.

"Don't get so close! You'll startle her," he hissed at me. His voice startled the unicorn, which neighed softly and nuzzled the boy's hand.

Normally, I would have bawled my eyes out from falling on my face and being rudely treated by a boy, but I was too mesmerized by the antics of the unicorn to care. I got up, brushed myself off absentmindedly and turned my attention back to the unicorn. "Can I hold her?" I whispered this time. The unicorn looked at me quizzically, angling her head slightly.

The boy shook his head. "Let her get used to you first. Hold your hand out and let her sniff you."

I did as he said and held out my hand. The unicorn sniffed it and then – "She licked me!" I giggled.

I received a gentle smile from the boy, who bent down and let the unicorn stand on her own. She wobbled at first, then found her balance and trotted over to me, neighing a soft greeting.

"I think she likes me!"

"Her name is Sylvidia," replied the boy softly, looking at the unicorn. "You must be Mercedes. I heard there was an Elf Princess here who wanted a unicorn. I was afraid I would never find a safe home for Sylvidia after she lost her mother, but I'm glad a princess is willing to take her in." Turning his gaze directly at me, his eyes – a deep shade of blue the likes I've never seen before – shining, he introduced himself:

"My name is Freud."