[Jack's POV]
The forest around us rustled softly as we walked, the quiet broken only by the rhythm of our boots on the mossy ground. A few minutes had passed since the Skull Hound incident and the contract proposal to the Will-o'-the-Wisp. I could still feel a faint warmth pulsing in my palm, the black stone nestled in my fingers like a living ember.
Ark walked close beside me, his gaze flicking over my shoulder, clearly focused on the object in my hand.
"That's just a piece of coal, right?" he asked. "Why'd you ask for that from the Wisp?"
I glanced at him, grin widening slightly.
"It'll make sense later," I said, and tucked the coal into my storage ring with a soft flick of magic.
Ark made a faint noise of protest, but didn't argue further. Instead, he continued beside me in silence, occasionally brushing his fingers against mine as we walked.
The forest around us slowly changed.
It was subtle at first. The air seemed clearer, the scents richer. The shadows less cold, more welcoming. The trees whispered when the wind passed through them—not with sound, but with feeling.
Then the energy hit.
It wasn't mana. It wasn't divine. It was… warmer.
Fuller.
I stopped for a second and exhaled slowly.
Ark blinked and looked around. "What is that?" he asked. "That feeling… it's like… the forest is breathing."
I smiled.
"That's life energy."
He turned to me in surprise.
"Pure, natural energy. Every leaf, every stone, every drop of water carries it. Most people never notice… but some do." I turned slightly and gave him a wink. "Guess you're one of them."
He flushed a little, but didn't argue.
I scanned the woods, letting my senses stretch just a little.
Then I saw it.
Tucked deeper in a grove, half-covered in vines and surrounded by wildflowers, stood a massive oak. Its trunk was thick enough to shelter a bear family inside, and its roots curled out like ancient arms, half-lifted from the soil.
I walked toward it.
Ark followed, hesitating slightly at the strange glimmer in the air around the tree.
As we stepped closer, the leaves above shifted. And I don't mean they rustled—I mean they changed.
One moment, they were green. Then one turned orange. Another, purple. Blue. Back to green.
Vivid. Alive.
Not autumn leaves, but something else. Something magical.
Ark stopped in awe, wide-eyed. "…How is that happening?"
I sat on one of the roots and gestured for him to do the same.
He lowered himself slowly, staring up at the kaleidoscope canopy with a look of wonder.
I smiled again and reached into my storage ring.
Click.
The flute slipped into my hand.
Ark turned just as I raised it to my lips.
"You play?"
I just nodded.
Then I began.
The first notes were soft—like whispers from forgotten dreams.
The song didn't need words.
It was old. The kind of melody born not from sound, but from memory. A song of green growth and soil-scented hope. Of spring melting into summer, and autumn folding into rebirth.
Even the air seemed to quiet around us.
The forest listened.
Leaves stilled.
Life swirled.
The energy around us shifted, flowing in time with the music, spiraling softly like wind through tall grass.
I played for hope, for love, for peace, for renewal, for freedom.
Ark closed his eyes and leaned gently against the tree.
I played on.
And when the final notes fell, like leaves in slow descent…
…Ark opened his eyes again.
There were tears.
Small, silent, resting in the corners of his eyes.
I smiled softly, brushing my thumb across his cheek.
"Thank you, that was beautiful," he whispered, voice trembling.
I nodded gently in return.
Then—
Groooaaaaan.
The tree creaked.
Not from wind.
From movement.
Ark jolted upright, his body tense, his hand instinctively grabbing my sleeve.
My eyes remained on the trunk.
A seam opened, like bark splitting along an invisible door.
And from it—
A woman stepped forward.
Young. Beautiful. With flowing green robes that shimmered like moss in sunlight. Her hair spilled like vines across her shoulders, and her skin bore a faint wooden texture—living bark blended with flesh.
Her presence felt ancient.
Like she was the tree.
She stepped lightly, her feet never fully touching the soil, and her eyes locked instantly onto mine.
"You called, Summoner?" she asked, her voice like wind in tall grass.
I stood and bowed deeply.
Ark nearly fell over.
'He bows to no one…' I could feel the thought radiating from him.
"Thank you for appearing," I said respectfully. "I'd like to ask for your help."
The dryad tilted her head slightly, then turned her gaze toward Ark.
Her eyes widened.
Her smile softened.
But I moved, just slightly, placing myself between her and him.
A quiet message.
She blinked once.
Then looked back at me, voice now more ethereal. "That song… it was beautiful. I haven't heard it in centuries. Where did you learn it?"
I met her eyes.
"I am a Summoner with access to [the Library]," I said. "I have access to many forgotten things."
She nodded slowly, her gaze briefly flickering to the green and blue leaves above.
Ark looked between us, clearly confused.
The dryad looked back down, her tone gentle. "Very well, Summoner. What do you seek from me?"
"I need a gate," I said simply. "To Raventhorn. I was hoping you'd help… in exchange for correspondence with someone."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Who?"
"Traisa," I said.
The air went still.
Her eyes widened. "…You know that name?"
I smiled sympathetically. "I do. Traisa is alive. Her tree still stands. She dwells in the academy now—under glamour. She's taken on an… instructive role."
The dryad's lips parted slightly.
Then curled into a grateful smile.
"…Thank you. I thought she was lost. I haven't heard her voice in decades."
"She remembers you," I said gently. "And she'd be glad to hear you're safe."
The woman nodded, her eyes soft with emotion.
"I will open the gate," she said. "But be warned. The forest grows strange. A shadow has begun to twist its roots. If it finds you, it will come for you, and eventually, it will find you."
I nodded. "I know. That's why I need the gate. The shadow is my target—but if I don't move quickly, I'll lose the chance to banish it."
She paused.
Then asked, "What should I call you, Summoner?"
I smiled.
"My name is Jackson Drovas—but I prefer Jack."
Then I reached out and gently took Ark's hand.
"And this is Ark. My boyfriend. In case you were wondering."
Ark flushed a little, but didn't pull away.
The dryad's gaze lingered on us, then back to me, thoughtful.
"In that case…" she said in the tongue of fairies, "Are you aware of—"
"I am," I replied in the same language, gently cutting her off.
She nodded slowly, a twinkle in her eyes.
"My name is Fraina. If you truly wish to act as a bridge between me and Traisa… then I will accept a contract. I will even lend you my strength as a summon if ever needed."
I inclined my head. "I'm honored. I may not be able to uphold my side just yet… but once the shadow is gone, I'll return to that promise."
"Then I will wait," she said with a smile.
She waved a hand.
A nearby tree shuddered, and its trunk split open down the center. A glowing wall of light shimmered in the space beyond.
The light bent.
Revealed a sunlit field—just outside Raventhorn.
"Thank you," I said softly.
Then, with my arm around Ark's shoulders, I guided him toward the light.
He stayed close.
Just before stepping through, I looked back.
Fraina stood by her tree, smiling gently.
She gave a small nod.
I returned it.
Then stepped into the light.
-
We emerged on the edge of a sprawling field, the warm scent of grass and flowers replacing the cool forest air.
Ark took two steps, then turned around, wide-eyed, watching the tree behind us slowly close, sealing the gate like it had never opened.
Then he turned back toward the city.
Raventhorn's walls loomed in the distance, only a few minutes' walk away.
He looked between the forest, the field, and me—stunned.
"Did we just… teleport?" he asked, blinking fast.
I laughed. "Sort of. That woman was a dryad. She opened a portal for us."
"A… what?" Ark asked, blinking again.
I stopped.
Stared at him.
"You don't know what a dryad is?"
He looked at me, confused and apologetic.
I blinked again.
"…Seriously?"
He shrugged, ears drooping slightly.
I sighed and slipped my arm around his shoulder again as we began walking toward the city.
"Alright. Story time."
He perked up a little.
"Dryads are high-ranking spirits," I explained. "Sometimes considered a type of nymph. They're the guardians of forests—born when a tree becomes old enough and saturated with mana... the best way to describe it is that the tree becomes sentient and creates a body or avatar to carry out its will. That is the dryad."
He blinked again. "So the tree she stepped out of…"
"That tree was her true self," I nodded. "It's her soul and body. They're kind spirits, usually. Protective. Wise. But if you hurt their forest or take more than you need…"
He winced. "They'll kill you?"
"If you're lucky, they'll just scare you," I said with a chuckle. "They can command plants, the earth, some healing and holy magic. They're nature's protectors—and very, very powerful."
Ark stared at me like I'd just told him the moon was a fish.
"…Spirits are a lot more complicated than I thought," he whispered.
I laughed. "Oh, you have no idea. It took me years to learn what I have—and I'm still learning."
He smiled and leaned against me.
"I'd like to learn more," he said quietly.
I smiled and hugged him back.
"I'd love to teach you. And I plan on showing you another one today."
His ears perked. "Another spirit? What kind?"
I smirked. "You'll see."
We walked toward Raventhorn together.
One step closer to the truth.
And one step deeper into the shadows.