“He’s awake!” Erica squealed, her voice high-pitched with excitement.
I winced, feeling a sharp pounding in my head, like I’d woken up the morning after a wild Friday night house party. Everything around me felt overly vivid—almost too real. Despite the dim lighting, the grass seemed impossibly vibrant, its green practically glowing.
My eyes widened as I took it all in, overwhelmed by the heightened clarity. I quickly raised a hand to stop Erica before she could rush over. “Wait,” I said, my voice low but firm. “Give me a few minutes.”
Before I could linger on the persistent ringing in my head, I felt the unmistakable tug of a god reaching out—a summons. Flora, presumably. I resisted the pull, mentally declining her request. I knew she was aware of what I’d just accomplished, and it was clear she’d obsessively pursue me until I either accepted her offer or received a blessing from another divine being. I couldn’t bring myself to commit to the pantheon—it just felt wrong. Deep down, I knew the real reason was my refusal to live perpetually in my father’s shadow, bound by expectations and comparisons. I wanted to create something meaningful with Erica—something that gave me purpose and strength beyond measure. If that meant rejecting a blessing, so be it. A blessing would undoubtedly provide an edge, but I wasn’t ready to surrender my faith to something that might limit my potential. My ambition wasn’t just about being the best for Erica; it was about power—pure, unrestrained power. I wanted to taste godhood, to surpass it even. Not just any godhood, though—I wanted to be the one who finally eclipses the Paragons themselves. And I knew that path required stubbornness, even defiance.
Someone who intrigued me deeply was Sylphine the Wanderer. She was the embodiment of freedom—a Paragon who lived entirely for herself, pursuing whatever brought her peace and joy. Unlike other Paragons, who often entangled themselves in divine politics or mortal conflicts, Sylphine roamed the multiverse, unfettered by obligation. Her current whereabouts were as mysterious as ever, though rumors placed her in the lands controlled by the Triumvirate of Light, casually learning to master various instruments.
It was an odd choice for someone of her stature, yet it made perfect sense for her. Sylphine was arguably among the strongest Paragons, her power rivaled only by three others. Despite this, she cared little for proving her strength, her priorities always lying with her own pursuits and personal growth. That unyielding dedication to her own path resonated with me in a way few things did. Although you could count on two hands the number of people she had blessed who were still alive, being chosen by Sylphine was practically impossible. You’d have better odds of becoming a lesser god’s chosen than even receiving her blessing, let alone earning the title of her chosen.
Sylphine’s blessings were not given lightly; she sought individuals whose spirits aligned with her ideals of boundless freedom and self-discovery. Even among those few she deemed worthy, none had been elevated to her chosen in literal eons. Her indifference to divine expectations made her a figure of admiration and frustration for both mortals and gods alike. To be blessed by Sylphine was to embody something truly exceptional, something beyond strength or ambition—a pure, unshakable commitment to living on one’s own terms.
“Hellooo?” Erica’s fingers snapped insistently in front of my closed eyes, pulling me back to reality.
I blinked a few times, shaking off the fog in my mind, and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. My head was spinning, and I kind of got lost in thought for a moment.”
I could see the expressions on my parents' faces—my dad showing a hint of disappointment, while my mother wore a look of pride.
“What?” I asked, hoping to get some insight from them.
“I heard about your conversation with Sylvanus,” my dad said, frowning.
My mother nudged him gently, giving him a reproachful look. “I think it’s great that you’re following your own path. Ultimately, it’s your life.”
“Yes, but—” my dad scratched the back of his head, wincing slightly. “Flora offered to make you her chosen. She’s almost as powerful as any Paragon. And it’s safe,” he added, placing extra emphasis on the word "safe."
I slowly sat up, accepting Erica’s hand to lean against the tree. “Wasn’t it you who kept saying that ‘safe’ wouldn’t get me anywhere?” I said, locking eyes with him and delivering my most piercing glare.
My father looked down, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face before he met my gaze again, his eyes twitching with frustration. “Just accept the blessing. Join the pantheon and be done with it. Both you and Erica should be accepting blessings from either Sylvanus or Flora.”
“No,” I responded flatly.
Erica nodded slowly, her agreement clear. “If I may… I believe it would actually be more detrimental for Jackson to accept Flora’s offer.”
“Explain.” My father demanded.
“Don’t you think it’s strange to force this onto him?” Erica continued, her voice growing more assertive. “Jackson hasn’t even come close to gaining any of the affinities Flora possesses. I’d think he’d be better off being blessed by a random god with the time affinity, or better yet, seeking out the Goddess of Night.” She dropped her usual shy tone midway through her statement, making her stance clear.
My father’s face flushed a deep red, and his usually restrained aura spilled out, filling the air around us with an oppressive pressure. Even my mother, who was on the brink of reaching Rank B, felt the discomfort.
“Hon, let it go. She’s right.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, gently diffusing some of his anger.
His expression softened just a little, his aura retreating as he took a deep breath. He nodded, then turned toward the house without another word.
Erica and I watched my parents walk toward the house for a moment, then she turned to me, grinning. We both fought to hold back the laughter, but it wasn’t long before we both erupted into uncontrollable cackling.
“I thought he was going to shapeshift into a tomato!” I laughed, wiping away tears as I struggled to catch my breath.
Erica wiped her face, then turned to me with a deadpan expression. “It’s not funny, I thought I was about to be blasted to the moon.” She couldn’t hold it in and burst into laughter again.
We eventually collapsed onto the grass, staring up at the clear sky, watching the bright moon and stars fill the cosmos as we caught our breath.
“I didn’t even get to tell him I started building the foundation of my truesoul.” I dropped the news on Erica.
Erica shot up, her eyes wide in shock as she whipped her head toward me. "You did fucking what?"
My smile widened slyly. "You heard me correctly," I assured her.
She slumped a little, looking deflated. "I haven’t even resonated with a single affinity yet, Jack."
I dropped my pride, seeing the frustration in her eyes. "Hey, hey… Don’t worry. You’ll have one before we delve," I said, trying to comfort her. But coming from someone who had just gained three affinities in less than 24 hours, it probably meant jackshit—pun intended.
"Come on, let’s get moving." I said, pulling her to her feet. "We’re heading back to the runescribe, and I’ll help guide you through it."
"Really? You mean it?" she asked, hesitating. "But aren’t you tired? It’s late, and you’ve already been through so much today."
“It’s fine, I feel amazing—better than amazing, actually.” I said, starting toward the gate with a spring in my step, the urge to skip bubbling up as a giddy energy coursed through me.
We made the walk through the forest quietly, it was one of the few times we hated going through the forest, at night it was just eerie, and all sound was muted. But as we came closer to the district, you could hear the bustle of people still out and about.
We paused several times along the way, drawn in by street performers enchanting the crowd with their mastery of illusionary magic. The air sparkled with their creations, the most captivating of which were the butterflies. Each performer seemed to have their unique spin on the theme: fiery butterflies with wings that blazed and crackled as they danced through the air, watery creations that shimmered and dripped with glowing droplets as if they had just emerged from a stream, and delicate, pastel-pink butterflies formed from a magic often depicted in stories as fae energy. These fae-crafted butterflies seemed almost alive, their translucent wings pulsing faintly with an ethereal light, leaving trails of soft sparkles as they fluttered gracefully through the night. The blend of elements and creativity brought an otherworldly vibrancy to the street, making it feel as though we were walking through a dream.
Erica was especially drawn to the fae magic, her gaze glued to the delicate, pastel-pink butterfly that fluttered through the performer’s illusion. Fae magic was rare, usually wielded exclusively by fairies—a curious and tricky race, known for their intelligence and innate connection to the system. Fairies were unique among the sapient races of the multiverse; unlike others, their very existence was tied to the system. Before integration, they had been ordinary elves, but the system’s influence had evolved them into their current form. As far as anyone knew, becoming a fairy was only possible through the system itself.
Erica’s eyes stayed locked on the glowing butterfly, its translucent wings pulsing softly as it danced through the air. It was clear that something about the magic resonated with her, though not deeply enough to spark an affinity. I noticed her fixation and gently guided her closer, weaving through the small crowd until we were just a few steps from the performer.
The performer, a fairy herself, quickly noticed Erica’s entranced expression. Her presence was unmistakable, with her nearly invisible wings shimmering faintly in the lantern light. The wings radiated a kaleidoscope of hues, each one representing an affinity she had mastered. The most prominent shade was the same vibrant pink as her illusions, rippling through her wings like threads of living energy. It was mesmerizing, and even I could feel the faint hum of her magic, as though the air itself recognized her power.
The fairy snapped her fingers sharply, and her performance came to an abrupt halt. The illusionary butterflies shimmered briefly before dissipating into motes of light, leaving the air feeling strangely still. The crowd around us let out a chorus of disappointed sounds—soft aww’s and low grunts of frustration—as they began to disperse, muttering about the sudden end to the mesmerizing display. Despite the collective discontent, the fairy’s attention remained fixed on Erica, her eyes glinting with curiosity as she studied her with a knowing smile.
Without a single word she snapped her fingers yet again, and manifested a butterfly of fae, and let it flutter toward Erica, landing softly on the tip of her finger. Erica smiled, and her eyes changed colors for only a moment, I’d barely caught it but it was there.
“Hmm, that’s something I haven’t seen in a very long time,” the fairy said, her voice melodic and soft, yet carrying an unmistakable weight of intrigue.
“What’s that?” I asked, glancing between her and Erica, who was still transfixed by the fading pink glow of the butterfly, as if it were calling out to her.
The fairy tilted her head, her shimmering wings catching the faint light of the moon as they glowed faintly with shifting colors. Her gaze lingered on Erica for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. “A resonance with fae,” she said simply, her tone carrying an almost nostalgic reverence.
The fairy leaned in closer, her delicate fingers brushing Erica’s hair behind her ears with an almost motherly care. When she caught a proper glimpse of her, her eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp. “And a human to boot!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying both surprise and a hint of awe. Her wings fluttered faintly, their colors shifting in a cascade of pink and silver, reflecting her astonishment.
The fairy’s aura flooded the area for just a fleeting moment, yet it was enough to leave an indelible impression. It was overwhelming, immense—an unmistakable echo of divine power. My entire being recognized it instantly: the crushing weight of a god, and not just any god, but one whose strength rivaled Sylvanus himself.
Her wings gave a nervous flutter as she quickly reined it back in, clearing her throat in a vain attempt to regain composure. “S-sorry about that,” she stammered, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, betraying her embarrassment at the unintended display.
Erica had broken out of her trance-like state, clearly overwhelmed by the power that was just put on blast, you could see the general discomfort of everyone around, but carried on with their day, thinking it was just another one of Sylvanus’ visits to my father.
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“Who are you?” Erica asked, her voice filled with wonder, still captivated by the fairy’s presence.
The fairy waved her hand dismissively. “No one of importance,” she replied hastily, trying to downplay her significance.
I shot her a look, one that oozed complete disinterest in her poor attempt at lying. My eyelids drooped slightly, a clear signal of my unamused reaction to the dishonesty.
“What?” She asked, clearly noticing the death glare I shot in her direction.
“You just released an aura that rivals, or maybe even surpasses Sylvanus, and you expect me to believe that you’re no one of importance?” I rolled my eyes, disbelief evident in my tone.
“Yes!” she replied playfully, as if her previous display hadn’t just shaken the air around us. “Okay fine. But you must not tell a single soul, and not here.”
Erica and I exchanged a glance before nodding, and she jumped up from her knees, gesturing for us to follow.
We didn’t walk far, but soon we came to a quaint house nestled into a hill, resembling a hobbit hole from the stories my parents used to tell me when I was younger. The exterior was charming, with ivy creeping up its sides and soft lights flickering from the windows. We entered cautiously, the weight of the situation settling over us. Despite the fairy’s playful demeanor, we knew better than to underestimate her—if she had wanted us dead, we wouldn’t even have seen it coming.
"Please, sit!" the fairy urged, her voice sweet but carrying an edge. "It’s been so long since I’ve had people to talk to, but I hope we’re all in agreement that not a damn word is spoken about the conversation we’re about to have!" Her gleeful attitude faltered for a brief moment, and a tinge of a threat slipped through, making it clear that this wasn’t just a casual chat.
“So I know we have no right to pressure you into telling us, since you know, you could probably kill both of us with a sneeze if you wanted to. But who exactly are you, and more importantly, how did you even get the permission to be here?” I asked, trying to mask the tension in my voice.
“Okay, one,” the fairy began with a casual shrug, “I don’t really need permission from anyone to go anywhere. And two, I’m Sylphine! My friends call me Syl. Not that many of them are alive anymore, but that’s that!” She finished with a lighthearted chuckle.
Erica's eyes went wide, and she quickly shot her gaze toward me, fully aware of my idolization of Sylphine. My heart raced as I tried to suppress the awe that surged within me. How could I not react? I was in the presence of a goddess—one whose existence was shrouded in mystery, and whose ideals I admired deeply.
“Sylphine the Wanderer?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, trying to reign in the excitement threatening to spill out.
“The one and only!” Sylphine replied with a grin, her voice filled with a playful confidence.
Erica finally spoke up, “Jack idolizes you.” She shot me a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying the moment.
Erica and Sylphine studied my disgruntled expression before both of them burst into laughter. Erica couldn't contain herself, and I couldn’t quite understand why Sylphine found it so amusing.
“You... idolize me!?” Sylphine exclaimed between chuckles. “Why? I just wander around, doing nothing. I haven’t done anything of importance since the 4th Era. And you realize how long ago that was, right? EONS have passed since I did anything remotely significant.”
“What’s so wrong with that?” I said, my voice steady but filled with admiration. “You live for yourself. You don’t do it for anyone else. You’re the only Paragon who’s not out there trying to spread their influence by ‘spreading their seed’ across the multiverse. From what I’ve seen, that only makes me admire you more. You’re a goddess who randomly chose to be a street performer, and you restrain your power just to blend in. I’ve seen you multiple times, and not once have you flaunted your strength. Hell, you even let some random drunk heckle you a few weeks ago!” I exclaimed.
“If anything, you should be flaunting your power and preaching your ideals,” I added. “I’d have joined a faction like that as soon as I selected my class.”
“Then become a powerful god and create your own,” Sylphine replied with a shrug. “I never had the drive for that, nor do I want that kind of responsibility.”
Sylphine reached for something inside of her spatial ring, popping out a piece of candy and popping it in her mouth.
“That’s a great idea actually.” Erica said, “Why don’t we become gods and show her why we want it. The lives we could change Jack, why not make that our dream?”
I nodded, and looked toward Sylphine, “But why? Couldn’t you have just been a figurehead, and then made someone else do it for you?”
“I could’ve. And the thought did happen to cross my mind at one point, but no one felt right to take up that mantle, people get so greedy, so infatuated with power, that eventually, things turn out like The Sylvan Pantheon. Sylvanus isn’t actually a bad dude, if anything he’s actually the paragon I enjoy being around the most, well other than Voltaris, he’s a cool dude even if he’s kind of a pushover, that's a story for another time though.” Sylphine popped another candy into her mouth.
“What do you mean, turn out like the pantheon? Isn’t the pantheon the closest thing to what I want?” I asked, confused, thinking the pantheon truly did respect the freedom of others.
“Oh gods, no,” Sylphine said with disgust, her mouth full. “You think that even if your dad wanted to turn Sylvanel into some metropolis of skyscrapers and tourist attractions, that Sylvanus would allow it? The answer is no. Sylvanus has rules, and your dad bends them as much as possible to make things more palatable for the people on Earth. But eventually, this place will become just like the rest of the pantheon’s territories—a complete authoritarian rule. The leader in charge won’t be your father, it’ll be someone far more ruthless. You see these roads you walk on every day? Gone. The houses made of wood from trees? Gone. The pantheon’s beliefs aren’t so lax, and your father probably knows that. He’s the only one convincing Sylvanus that a smooth transition is the best option.”
“But my Father is Sylvanus’ chosen?” I questioned.
“Is he really?” Sylphine countered, “That’s actually news to me, maybe Sylvanus has had a change of heart, or has finally done away with that malarky about complete control.”
Erica had started shaking her leg somewhere in between the conversation but I’d ignored it, waiting for her to speak up.
“Sylvanus hasn’t changed,” Erica said flatly. “He’s just trusting your father’s judgment, I assume, and letting him smoothly transition Sylvanel into the pantheon. You didn’t learn about it here, but in my home city, we were taught the opposite. The Sylvan Pantheon is very, very controlling. It’s a surprise to everyone on Earth that the city is structured the way it is, and there’s doubt about whether the people here truly live in the freedom they claim. That’s going to change, and soon.” Erica seemed relieved, as though a weight had been lifted from her.
“Well, there it is,” Sylphine nodded. “Your girlfriend’s right on the money. Every integration, every city under Sylvanus’ rule starts the same way: freedom, a lure to draw people in, and then slowly, the leaders start enforcing rules, reshaping the city, and executing those who oppose. It’s surprising your father kept that from you. Have you voiced your idealism to him?”
My heart sank. “No. I did something worse.”
Sylphine raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Elaborate?”
I took a deep breath and confessed, “Well, Sylvanus asked me to become Flora’s chosen, and I told him I didn’t resonate with the pantheon.”
“Well that wasn’t very smart.” Erica punched me in the shoulder.
Sylphine started laughing uncontrollably, Erica and I giving her a look of confusion. “How’s this funny?” I asked
“I can just imagine the look on Sylvanus’ face after that conversation,” Sylphine said, chuckling despite herself. “I bet he was practically foaming at the mouth in disbelief at the audacity of you denying the ‘honor’ of becoming his wife’s chosen.” She wiped a tear from her eye, finally managing to calm down.
“Well, now what…?” I asked quietly, the weight of betrayal from my parents settling in.
Sylphine sighed, her expression growing serious. "That's the real question, isn't it? You’ve set a course that’s going to ruffle some feathers, both within your family and the pantheon. But don’t let that deter you. If you don’t resonate with the path they’ve laid out for you, then it’s time to forge your own."
She paused, giving me a contemplative look. "Follow your heart, Jackson. Don’t let anyone force you into something you don’t believe in. Your path is yours to choose, and the universe wont guide you if you’re not true to yourself.”
"Oh, and if you want to avoid all the mess that’s coming your way and keep this thing between you two going," Sylphine said, gesturing to me and Erica, "You’d better pack up and leave, and fast. Don’t wait around, don’t stick to any plan you had—just go. Leave, with a capital L."
Erica gave me a hopeful look, watching me closely as I processed her words. I returned her gaze with a smile, nodding in agreement. "Okay."
Sylphine raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Wait, really? You’re just going to drop everything and leave?"
"Yeah," I replied firmly. "You’re right. Erica’s going to have to leave before the transition happens, and I’m following my heart. My path doesn’t lie with the pantheon."
“Fuck,” Sylphine muttered under her breath, clearly troubled by something.
“What’s wrong?” Erica asked, sensing her unease.
“I didn’t want to have to leave so soon, but it looks like you guys are going to need a little push to get out of the city without teleporting.” Sylphine put her face in her hands, mumbling something we couldn’t quite catch.
Shaking off whatever was running through her mind, Sylphine finally looked up and spoke with more clarity. “Okay, here’s the plan. You’re going to go home. Don’t waste time packing clothes—just take what you absolutely can’t leave behind. After that, head to the vault, if you have one. Stuff your pockets, your pack, your spatial ring—whatever you can carry—with as much money as you can manage. You’re going to need it, then meet me here, I’ll get you past the city’s gates, and take you to Umbraeth.”
“Hold on a minute. My father is the lord of Umbraeth,” Erica interjected before Sylphine could continue. “I can just tell them I’m visiting my family and bring Jack along.”
“That makes things simpler, but you’ll still need money. From what I’ve heard about your dad, he’s not likely to give you any, and Jack will be cut off financially if this happens,” Sylphine replied.
Erica sighed in agreement, conceding the point. “But we can still use the excuse of visiting my family, right?”
“Yeah, that works. Just make sure to hide your money and any important belongings near the teleportation pad before you talk to them about it,” Sylphine said, her gaze drifting to the ceiling as she thought. “I’ll still come with you. I take it you left Umbraeth on bad terms?”
Erica nodded again. “Yeah... probably best if I don’t actually see my father.”
That was news to me. I thought Erica had moved to Sylvanel to escape the constant criticism from those who judged her family's power. I had assumed wrong.
“Uh, one question,” I blurted.
“What’s that?” Sylphine asked.
“Can you do that butterfly thing again and let me try to resonate with fae?” I asked her hesitantly.
Sylphine rolled her eyes and with a casual flick of her wrist, conjured a fae butterfly with ease. The delicate creation fluttered toward me and landed gently on my finger. While I didn't feel the connection as strongly as Erica had, I hoped that by focusing, I could tap into it just enough. I activated Truesoul Focus, hoping to latch onto the magical essence of the butterfly and understand its nature. I could perceive the delicate weave of the affinity, but there was no magnetic pull, no immediate connection. So, I forced my grip onto it, pulling it toward me. It burned faintly, but the discomfort wasn’t enough to make me let go. The butterfly swirled around my fingers, attempting to slip away, but I refused to release it. In the background, I could hear Sylphine and Erica discussing my actions. Sylphine, ever observant, described what I was attempting.
“He’s trying to forcefully resonate. It’s possible, considering he’s got Truesoul Focus so early. I didn’t even get that skill until I was Rank G. When you evolve, what he’s trying to do becomes almost impossible, too risky to even attempt. If he succeeds, I doubt the system will ever allow him to do it again. And if he actually manages it… well, we’ll talk about that when we get to Umbraeth.”
I smiled, the fact that it was possible was all I needed. I intensified my efforts, tightening my grip on the fae butterfly, and delved deeper into my truesoul. It felt like fishing—push and pull, a quiet battle of wills, and right now, I was winning. Magic had no intent of its own usually unless it was directed by someone’s will. Sylphine had created the butterfly, but that will was now negligible, and I was the one exerting control. Many fairies would call this heresy if they knew what I was attempting. But to me, it was just another step toward mastering what was mine. After ten long minutes, something clicked into place. I’d won not easily at all, but I’d done it.
You have resonated with the “Fae Affinity”
You have gained the “Fae Affinity”
“You two are just fucking weird,” Sylphine said, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “You actually just did that. I cannot believe my eyes. You’ve managed to baffle a goddess who’s been around for 49 billion years. Congrats.” Her expression was a mix of exasperation and defeat.
“Gods, Jack, can you please ease up on doing the impossible for at least a few millennia?” Erica teased, her tone playful as she let out a chuckle.
Sylphine shook her head, regaining some composure. “Alright, go home. You both have work to do. We’ll meet tomorrow, before sunrise. Jack, make sure you get some rest after you’re done. You’ve accomplished something extraordinary today. You might not feel it now, but your body and soul need time to recover. And make sure you get your things in order tonight.”
Erica and I nodded quickly as Sylphine ushered us out the door, her urgency palpable. Despite everything, I found myself strangely calm. My father—the chosen of someone notorious across the multiverse as the worst kind of tyrant. It was a truth that should have shaken me to my core, but somehow, it didn’t. Sylvanus had always come across as genuine and composed, the kind of leader who didn’t need to indoctrinate followers. Yet, here I was, grappling with the reality of his manipulative reach.
What did weigh heavily on my mind, however, was the new danger Erica and I now faced. By defying Sylvanus, we were effectively painting targets on our backs. If we didn’t act quickly, we’d find ourselves exposed, vulnerable to his wrath. The solution was clear: we needed to align ourselves with a powerful ally or faction, someone—or something—capable of recognizing our worth and offering us protection.
If we held value to any of the other Paragons, Sylvanus couldn’t move against us without risking political fallout. And backlash on that level—the kind that could hurt his standing—was something even he would have to consider.
Gaining strength and leveling up would have to come first. The reality was harsh but clear: my bloodmark and our shared Fae Affinity weren’t enough to turn heads or gain favor in the eyes of any of the Paragons. While our unique traits held potential, potential alone wouldn’t earn us protection or recognition.
Sylphine, for all her raw power and eons of wisdom, wasn’t the answer to our predicament. She lacked political sway and didn’t lead a faction we could rely on. Aligning ourselves with her was a dead end in terms of influence. The only slim possibility was if Sylphine had connections—alliances with other Paragons who owed her a favor. But even then, it was doubtful she’d burn a favor of such magnitude on a couple of inexperienced humans who were just beginning their journey toward power.
The path ahead was clear: we needed to grow stronger. And fast. If we were going to stand a chance, we had to prove our worth through action, not just potential.