Deep within the heart of the Fey Forest, inside a sacred shrine lost to the world, a girl with shimmering silver hair sat cross-legged in perfect stillness. Her eyes were closed, her breaths deep and measured. Before her, resting on a moss-covered dais, stood an ancient tree carved with runes of light. Its bark shimmered faintly, glowing with the whispers of long-forgotten power.
Beside her sat a figure unlike any other—a wooden figure in the shape of a man, entwined in luminous jade threads that pulsed with living energy. Though he appeared lifeless, something stirred within. This was no construct. This was Emery.
The girl abruptly opened her eyes, determination burning in her gaze.
“Father,” she said, standing to her feet. “Let me give it another try!”
Raising her hands, she channeled the magic of the runes. The jade threads binding Emery began to tremble and writhe, reacting to her effort. But within moments, they snapped taut again, locking him down as firmly as ever.
“Urghhh… dammit! This is depressing… We don’t have time for this!”
Trapped within the wooden shell, Emery could do nothing but seethe.
It had been two weeks since he was taken captive by the Fey people. Two weeks since his soul had been forcibly bound into this fey-made construct, stripped of his power, stripped of his freedom. His clone body was destroyed, and only his soul remained, caught in a prison of living wood and jade chains.
“They say the secret to breaking this binding is written on that damn tree,” he muttered.
And indeed, the tree bore the inscription of one of Fey’s ancient techniques—the Jade Threads, a sacred and ancient method once wielded by high fey and coveted by many. Under other circumstances, Emery would have jumped at the chance to learn such a rare and powerful skill. But not now—not while trapped and desperate to return home.
“The Jade Thread Binding is part of the Daywolf legacy.”
Kaelyn Silverleaf had explained earlier,
“If you can break free of it, then we will allow you to leave.”
Since then, Emery had been restrained and forced to study the technique. They even allowed Shinta—his daughter, confirmed to carry fey blood—to stay with him and attempt to learn it as well. But there was a cruel irony at play: the part of Emery bound in the golem was his dark half, the one least attuned to the laws of nature.
“If only my light half were here…” Emery gritted his teeth. “He’d master this in a day!”
“Let me go!… released the wisp… and i will bring my other half here—he can learn your damn technique!”
But no one answered. The fey ignored his pleas.
Without the Primordial Wisp that bridged him and Khaos, Emery had lost all connection to his main body. What remained within was a locked gate, closed tight in his mind.
Time was running out. Every moment wasted here deepened his anxiety. And to make matters worse, VIA had finished analyzing the runes of the tree.
<Estimated time to mastery: 10 years.>
“Ten years?!” Emery roared. “That’s bullshit!”
<Alternate: Shinta may master the first level within one year. Full mastery—8 years.>
Frustration boiled within him. His dark-natured spirit, never patient to begin with, was now being consumed by rage and desperation. Day by day, he lost clarity. His thoughts revolved solely around one goal: escape.
Breaking free by force was a dead end. Trapped in this wooden shell, far removed from his true body, even invoking his primal transformations was impossible. His only viable path was to absorb as much of the ancient jade-thread technique as possible.
Hope stirred again when the forest outside suddenly began to shift.
The wind no longer sang its usual calm lullabies. It whispered of unrest. Emery’s instincts caught it immediately—a disturbance. The stillness of the shrine had been broken.
It wasn’t long before a figure appeared at the threshold of the shrine—a stooped silhouette cloaked in gray. Emery’s eyes widened as the figure stepped into the light. Soltz, the elderly Grand Magus.
“Old man… You’re still alive!” Emery’s voice was half a laugh, half desperation. “Good! Then help me out of this mess!”
Shinta immediately stood and bowed respectfully. Her expression was hopeful, but laced with tension.
Soltz offered a faint nod to her, then turned his gaze toward Emery and shook his head slowly.
“I didn’t come to save you,” he said softly. “I came to say goodbye. I’m returning to Pardera.”
“What?!” Emery’s voice rose. “No—wait! What about me?! You can’t just leave!”
The old magus let out a tired chuckle. “I’ve done enough, boy. You still owe me.”
“Yes, yes—of course! I’ll pay whatever! I’m a great alchemist, remember? I can give you anything!”
But the chuckle died in Soltz’s throat, his expression darkened.
“No… that thing inside you. I can feel it. It’s not normal. It’s evil.” His voice dropped to a whisper, heavy with meaning. “You’re better off here.”
Emery froze; he had no more words to say.
The old man turned away, walking slowly toward the shrine’s exit. Just before vanishing from sight, he paused.
“Remember!! You still owe me,” he said over his shoulder.
When the old figure finally disappeared into the trees, Emery slowly calmed himself. With clarity returning to his mind, he sensed something… off.
The Rainbow Bridge—the portal out of the Fey Realm—wasn’t due to open for a few more months. And even if there was an alternative way… why allow Soltz to use it? Why now?
Something unusual was stirring—and even the ancient woods could feel it.
The forest is restless.
Emery’s instincts sharpened.
He turned to Shinta, urgency clear in his voice. “Something’s happening. Find out what it is.”
“Yes, Father,” she replied with a quick nod.
But before she could take more than a few steps, another figure appeared at the entrance of the shrine. Kaelyn Silverleaf’s expression appeared uneasy.
Emery’s eyes narrowed. His tone turned cold. “What is it?! What do you want?”
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