​I post new chapters as I finish them; so check back often!

One day, when the story is complete, I hope to self-publish these chapters into an actual, physical book for my bookshelf. At the end of the day, this story is really just therapy for me, but I hope you enjoy it too.

I wanted to give a huge thank you to rejamart.

​She has helped bring the story and its characters to life.

Click the image above to explore Ryder's Odyssey from the very beginning.

A triumphant grin stretched across Ryder’s face as the pieces clicked into place. “Reflections has to be correct, that means these are two separate words. What is the second…-sper?” He paused, looking over the rest of the riddle. “Whisper!? Reflections whisper! This is the answer! And with it being reflections, this word must be ‘face’ not ‘fate’. It must be speaking of a mirror.”

His mind raced with possibilities. What mirror could this be? Was it a small, forgotten hand mirror? Something possibly left behind by the Rothmore Estate’s previous owner? He hadn’t been here when Reuben bought the house, so he had no idea what relics might have remained. With determination burning in his chest, Ryder knew he needed Reuben’s insight.

He floated swiftly back into the living room, where Reuben and Evan were sharing a laugh over the television. “Reuben,” Ryder called, interrupting their conversation. “The riddle, I believe, is about a mirror. Are there any mirrors the previous owner might have left behind?”

Evan’s face lit up. “No shit, you figured it out!? That’s awesome, Ryder!”

Reuben furrowed his brow in thought, tapping his chin. “A mirror, huh? Well, there’s the one in the shop bathroom. The old owner left it when she moved out. It’s beautiful, and I thought it added to the shop’s charm, so I kept it.”

Ryder had already begun floating towards the door the moment he heard the word ‘shop’. He grabbed the keys that sat upon the entranceway table. “That must be it!” Ryder declared, his excitement bubbling over. “Thank you, Reuben! I shall return soon!” Without another word, he zipped out the door and around the corner, heading straight for the Mystic Herb, Reuben’s metaphysical and herbalist shop that was conveniently located on the other side of the estate.

Reuben and Evan exchanged a chuckle. “He’s like a kid on Christmas morning,” Evan said, shaking his head fondly.

Reuben smiled with a relieved sigh. “I hope he finds what he’s looking for. It’s about time we uncovered some of the mysteries around here.”

​Ryder reached the Mystic Herb in no time, heading straight for the bathroom. The ornate mirror on the wall was a work of art in and of itself, its intricate frame carved with swirling patterns reminiscent of vines and flowers. Ryder hovered in front of it, his reflection staring back at him as he examined every detail.

“Hidden in plain sight,” Ryder murmured, repeating the riddle again while studying the edges of the mirror. “It must be on or behind it.” He ran his fingers along the frame, searching for any hidden compartments or latches, his frustration growing as nothing revealed itself.

“If I could just get this off the wall,” Ryder muttered. He grasped the bottom edge of the mirror and gently pulled upward. For a moment, it seemed to give way, but then a sharp snap echoed through the bathroom as the mirror came loose. Before Ryder could react, the heavy frame tilted forward, falling directly toward him.

Instinctively, Ryder flinched, bracing for the crash. But instead of shattering, the glass rippled like water, its surface undulating with a strange, fluid grace. As the mirror descended, it enveloped him completely, pulling him into its shimmering depths. It felt like diving into a pool of water, the surface rippling around him as he passed through. But the moment he emerged on the other side, Ryder found himself standing in an entirely different world.

The first thing Ryder noticed was the scent—sweet and inviting, like vanilla and honey with a dash of strawberries and cream. It filled the air, tugging at something deep within him, a memory he couldn’t quite place. As he opened his eyes, they widened in shock, amazement, and a flicker of unease.

Surrounding him now was a field of gold and blue flowers swaying gently in the soft breeze; the blue ones releasing a wispy, glowing blue dust that danced on the current. Towering trees framed the horizon, their canopies shimmering with an otherworldly, almost ethereal light. This was nature at its most enchanting and was unlike anywhere he had ever been before.

The familiarity of this place unsettled him. It felt like a memory brought to life, but one he didn’t recall living. He glanced down and froze. Where his rune and ribbon should have been, two human legs now protruded. He staggered backward, almost losing balance, shock setting in. 

Are those… legs? Ryder thought, his hands beginning to shake as he touched his newfound thighs. His head snapped abruptly to check his back, his heart racing at what he saw—or rather—didn’t see. The beautiful toadstool wings that had kept him afloat his entire life—gone. Panic bubbled up as he patted himself down, confirming the impossible. Even his clothing was different, replaced by attire both foreign and yet strangely familiar and comfortable.

“What is happening?” he whispered, his voice trembling as the gold and blue petals at his feet shifted softly in the breeze. He scanned his surroundings, forcing himself to stay calm. In the distance, a condensed stream of the glowing dust caught his eye, pulsing faintly like a beacon. It was the only thing that stood out, drawing his attention completely.

Driven by a mix of curiosity and instinct, he took a step forward. A step. It felt strange—unnatural, yet oddly familiar, like something he’d imagined before. Questions flooded his mind with every movement. Had he grown? Where were his wings? Just moments ago, he’d been in the Mystic Herb’s bathroom, and now he was in this surreal, hauntingly familiar place. Each step brought more uncertainty, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer to the intriguing stream of light.

As he drew near, the source of the phenomenon became clear. A long wooden staff stood upright, impaling a book into the ground. From the base of the staff, the earth released streams of bright blue magical dust, the glowing particles spiraling upward in mesmerizing patterns.

Why is this here? Ryder wondered, his brow furrowing. Tentatively, he reached out, waving his hand through the shimmering dust. It responded instantly, swirling around his fingers like it was alive, as if inviting him to interact. The sensation was magnetic, tugging at something primal and instinctual within him.

He turned his attention to the book. Its leather cover was worn and cracked, evidence of extensive use. Carefully, Ryder gripped the staff and pulled it free from the earth. The book slid off, landing on the ground. To his astonishment, the gaping hole left by the staff began to mend itself, the torn leather stitching back together seamlessly, as though it had never been damaged.

Placing the staff back into the ground, Ryder picked up and opened the book, his curiosity mounting. On the first page, a bold inscription greeted him:​

Magical Grimoire of Spells

Property of

The Vaelbreaker

“The Vaelbreaker…” Ryder murmured, glancing around nervously to see if its owner might still be nearby. The field remained silent, the only movement coming from the swaying flowers and the drifting dust. “What are these doing here in the middle of this field? And why does it all feel so… deliberate?”

He turned back to the grimoire, flipping through its first few pages. The text detailed the substance surrounding him as aether. Ryder nodded to himself. Aether. That made sense; it certainly looked like aether, glowing and almost alive with movement.

As he skimmed further, he discovered a variety of spells, each more intriguing than the last. Two caught his attention immediately: Map Making and Infinite Inventory. Both seemed practical and potentially invaluable—if they worked as the grimoire described.

Deciding to test the magic, Ryder attempted a levitation spell on the grimoire itself and it floated a few feet in front of him, its pages open and ready for reference.

“At least my magic still works,” Ryder muttered, relief washing over him. He scanned the notes on Map Making, summarizing aloud, “So, according to this, I just use the aether to draw this symbol in the air, and it should work. Sounds simple enough.”

Taking a steadying breath, Ryder prepared to try the spell, the sweet scent of the field wafting around him. He listened to the soft sound of wind rustling the flora as he focused, drawing the symbol into the air with slow, deliberate movements. The surrounding aether seemed alive, bending to his will and tracing the glowing path of his hand exactly as the grimoire had described. When the symbol was complete, it pulsed brightly before collapsing into a tan orb of light. The orb hovered for a moment, then unfolded into a beautifully illustrated map that floated before him.

Ryder leaned closer, inspecting the details. The map depicted his immediate surroundings—a detailed rendering of the flower field and the encircling trees. At its center, a small mushroom-shaped token bounced gently, marking his location. Beyond the areas he had explored, the map was veiled in shadow, obscuring the unknown. It reminded him of the fog-of-war mechanics from video games, except this one seemed tailored specifically to his current experience.

“Is this… some kind of magical video game?” Ryder mused, a mix of wonder and confusion.

He read further in the grimoire and learned how to dismiss the map. The instructions were simple: imagine it gone and swipe it away. He followed the steps, and the map dissolved into smoky wisps, dispersing into the air and merging back with the flowing aether around him. The realization that he now had access to an evolving map was oddly comforting.

“Well done,” Ryder said to himself, his voice steady with a newfound confidence. True, he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten here, but at least he had magic—and powerful magic at that.

Flipping through the grimoire again, Ryder found the next spell he wanted to try. The process for Infinite Inventory was a bit different than the last spell. All he had to do was imagine an item being stored in a specific place within his mind and summon it back by visualizing it.

He turned his attention to the staff planted in the ground and began preparing to test the spell. “Let’s see if this really works,” he murmured, a flicker of anticipation sparking in his chest.

Ryder plucked the staff from the ground and levitated it in front of him. Closing his eyes, he imagined the staff in a grand, cavernous room that existed only in the plane of his imagination. He called this mental space “the Vault,” a secure haven for anything he wished to store. As the image solidified in his mind, the staff began to glow, its form contorting into a small, shimmering orb before vanishing completely into thin air.

A triumphant grin spread across Ryder’s face, but he wasn’t done yet. He focused on retrieving the staff, picturing it reappearing in his hand. The surrounding aether responded immediately, swirling together in his palm to form a glowing ball. The orb expanded and shifted, taking the staff’s shape before bursting into existence with a cascade of rainbow-like pixels.

Ryder stared at the staff in awe, his fingers curling around it as he felt its solid weight. “That spell is… fascinating,” he said, his voice tinged with wonder. He quickly repeated the process, dispelling the staff once more into his vault.

Now, the question remained: “How do I get out of here?” His voice trailed off as his gaze swept across the field. He pulled the grimoire to his side and decided to head north, toward the forest. If he wanted answers, he’d have to search for them.

As he walked, the grimoire floated beside him, its pages flipping at his command. Each spell he skimmed over seemed more intriguing than the last, but none offered immediate insight into where he was, who the Vaelbreaker might be, or how he could return home. Still, the book was a treasure trove of possibilities, and Ryder resolved to explore its contents further once he had a better understanding of his surroundings.

Before long, the sound of rushing water broke through the gentle rustling of leaves. Ryder quickened his pace, following the noise until he came upon a river winding its way through the forest. The sight brought a small sense of relief—it was something familiar and tangible in this otherwise alien world.

Sticking close to the riverbank, Ryder kept a wary eye on the forest’s deeper shadows. Strange, muffled noises drifted from within—growls, rustles, and the occasional unidentifiable thrum. He didn’t know what creatures might call this forest home, and he wasn’t eager to find out. For now, the river seemed like the safest guide, and he hoped it might eventually lead him to a town, a city, or at least some sign of civilization.

Each step brought new questions, but Ryder pressed on, determined to uncover whatever secrets this mysterious world held.

After what felt like ages of walking, Ryder finally caught sight of a large bridge spanning the now-widened river. The sight stopped him in his tracks. His eyes widened as he took in the structure, its many intricately laid stones fitting together so perfectly it seemed almost impossible. Yet, it was eerily familiar.

“This bridge…” Ryder murmured, his voice trailing off. This isn’t real… It can’t be.

Compelled to confirm his suspicions, Ryder summoned the map once more. As the previously clouded areas he had explored were revealed, the bridge appeared on the parchment. Above it, glowing in ornate script, was the name “Evermyst Crossing.”

“But that wasn’t the name,” he said aloud, confusion thick in his voice. Looking back at the bridge, his mind replayed fragments of an old memory—no, an imagined scene. He remembered picturing a bridge like this, which, when crossing, led to a fork in the road. Beyond that, though, his imagination had never filled in the details.

And yet, here it was. As if his thoughts had bled into reality, Ryder soon found himself at the exact fork he had envisioned. Two wooden signs nailed to a post before him, each pointing down a different path. The one on the left read “Eon’s Estate,” while the one on the right read “Moonvael.” Neither name rang any bells. Had he even given names to the paths in his imaginings? He couldn’t remember.

Both paths stretched into dimly lit forest terrain, shadowed by thick canopies. Summoning the map again, Ryder scanned it for answers, but the map offered none. The paths beyond this point were still shrouded in mystery. He would have to choose one blindly—or find another way forward.

Suddenly, a spell he’d skimmed earlier came to mind. Quickly, Ryder flipped back through the grimoire’s pages until he found what he was looking for. His finger traced the illustration of the Seer Spell as he read the description again: a spell to guide the way.

“This should do it,” he muttered, already feeling the anticipation of the unknown pulling at him as he prepared to cast the spell.

He traced the symbol shown in the grimoire as was supposedly commonplace for the magic of this land, his hand moving fluidly through the air. The aether responded instantly, glowing as it formed the intricate design. As he finished, the symbol pulsed with energy before shooting outward, extending into a shimmering, rope-like line that hovered just above the ground. The magical rope pointed toward the left path, leading to Eon’s Estate.

Trusting the grimoire’s guidance, Ryder took a steadying breath and began following the illuminated trail. With each step he took, the aether rope dissolved behind him, leaving no trace of the path it had marked. The forest grew denser around him as he ventured deeper, the light fading into a patchwork of shadows.

Still, the glowing guide ahead kept him moving, its steady presence a small comfort in the unfamiliar, eerie terrain. Ryder clutched the grimoire tightly at his side, the magical text a reassuring weight as he pressed onward into the unknown.

Venturing deeper into the forest, Ryder kept his senses on high alert. Every shadow, rustling leaf, and distant sound set his nerves on edge. He treaded cautiously, scanning his surroundings with each step, determined to avoid any potential threats. This was uncharted territory, and he had no idea what creatures might call it home.

However, once the initial tension eased, Ryder allowed himself to flip through the grimoire. The magical book floated slightly in front of him, its pages turning at his command. He read as he walked, but his vigilance never wavered—his eyes constantly flicked between the text and the darkening forest around him.

The deeper he went, the thicker the canopy above grew. Shadows swallowed the fading daylight, plunging the path into near-total darkness. Ryder halted, deciding he needed light to continue.

Fortunately, he remembered an illusion spell he had perfected back home. Holding his palm out, he pictured a glowing orb of light, and just as he imagined, a small golden flame sparked to life. It hovered above his hand, shifting hues as it burned, its warm glow illuminating the immediate area. With a gentle push, he sent it floating ahead, lighting the way and casting soft, dancing shadows on the surrounding trees.

Satisfied with the light, Ryder returned to the grimoire, now able to read its pages clearly even in the darkness. One spell in particular caught his attention.

“Basic offensive magic…” he murmured, scanning the instructions. The spell described a method of condensing aether into concentrated bolts that could be cast at a target.

“Interesting,” Ryder said, curiosity sparking. Thus far, every spell he had attempted had worked flawlessly, and he had no reason to doubt this one. Testing it, however, would have to wait. For now, he pressed onward, the light from the orb guiding him.

Ryder’s thoughts wandered as he pushed deeper into the forest, his mind circling back to the grimoire in his possession. The Vaelbreaker… Could they have been the previous owner of Rothmore Estate? It would make sense. This has to be the “arcana” mentioned in the riddle.

He glanced at the grimoire floating beside him, its leather cover radiating an air of mystery. It was brimming with advanced spellwork, far beyond anything he had encountered before. The riddle’s warning echoed in his mind: The path won’t be easy, but the reward is worth the descent. That “descent” must have been the portal through the mirror—a leap of faith into the unknown.

“But now that I have this prize,” Ryder murmured to himself, glancing around the darkened forest, “how do I get back home?”

The thought lingered, heavy with uncertainty. The grimoire might hold some answers, but for now, all he could do was keep moving forward.

Ryder stuck to the dirt path, his eyes darting to every rustle and shadow in the forest. He had already caught glimpses of wolves prowling in the underbrush, deer disappearing into the thickets, and birds fluttering between the trees. Once or twice, he thought he saw pairs of glowing eyes in the treetops — bats or owls, perhaps, though their intensity was unsettling. At one point, he could have sworn he caught sight of a small dragon, its scales gleaming in the faint light. Surely, that had to be a trick of the eye—or so he told himself.

The forest was alive with sounds: howls, roars, caws, and the muttered cries of unidentifiable creatures. The unknown nature of it all set Ryder on edge, but his instincts told him to stay on the path. Wandering off into the woods seemed like an invitation for trouble, and he wasn’t eager to find out what might be lurking just out of sight.

After what felt like an eternity, the dense forest began to thin. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the canopy, painting golden patches on the ground ahead. Relief washed over Ryder, and a smile broke across his face as he realized he was nearing a clearing.

As the trees parted, his eyes fell on a two-story cabin in the distance. It stood quietly at the center of the clearing, unassuming and simple.

This is it? Ryder thought, frowning. Eon’s Estate is… a little cottage?

He had imagined something grander—a sprawling mansion or a towering gothic castle surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges and an ornate iron fence. Instead, this modest cabin greeted him.

Sighing, Ryder decided practicality mattered more than appearances. He dispelled the grimoire, placing it back into the Vault with a thought. The spell book glowed briefly, shrinking into a ball of light before vanishing entirely. With the grimoire secured, Ryder stepped toward the cabin, eager to finally meet the person the spell had guided him to.

As Ryder approached the cottage, his attention was immediately drawn to two men skulking around the perimeter. One peered into a window, while the other jiggled the handle of a side door, testing to see if it was unlocked. Suspicion tightened in Ryder’s chest, but before he could act, movement on the far side of the clearing caught his eye. Emerging from the forest, a small group of people wrestled with what appeared to be a small, bound and muzzled dragon. The creature thrashed against the ropes that pinned its wings, smoke curling from its nostrils and tiny bursts of flame escaping with every frustrated huff.

Ryder’s heart sank at the sight of the dragon’s struggle. The creature was clearly distressed, its gold and red scales glinting as it fought to break free.

And then the front door of the cottage opened.

A boy with sandy blond hair and oversized glasses stepped outside, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him. He strolled down the porch steps casually, as though investigating a stray noise, and began walking around the side of the house toward the two men.

Ryder’s pulse quickened. No, he doesn’t see them!

The moment the men noticed the boy, their hands shot up, and shimmering tendrils of magic coiled around their fingers. Without hesitation, they hurled spells in his direction. Ryder broke into a sprint, panic coursing through him as he tried to close the gap and intervene.

To Ryder’s relief, the boy reacted instantly, casting a defensive spell as though it were second nature. A glowing honeycomb-like shield materialized in front of him, absorbing the onslaught of magical attacks with ease. The hexagonal barrier shimmered brightly under the force of the impact but held strong, protecting the boy from harm. 

Ryder pressed forward, determined to help, as the tension in the air thickened with the crackling hum of active magic. He summoned the staff in an instant and continued onward, knowing that the confrontation was far from over.

As Ryder closed the distance, the boy caught sight of him. For a brief moment, their eyes met, the boy’s widening in surprise. Still, he kept his focus on maintaining the shield, holding off the advancing attackers.

Drawing on what he had learned from the grimoire, Ryder extended his hand and pulled aether from the surrounding air. The energy coalesced quickly, forming into a crackling bolt of lightning. With a swift motion of his staff, he hurled it at one of the men. The bolt struck the target’s shoulder with a deafening crack, sending him hurtling backward into the grass.

The offensive magic works, Ryder thought, his confidence solidifying. These items he found were no ordinary relics. The grimoire was powerful, holding secrets and spells beyond anything he had ever imagined. While the staff seemed to thrum with magical energy.

Before Ryder could relish the victory, more men emerged from the forest. One knelt to the ground, pulling aether from the grasslands around him. The once-vibrant flora withered instantly, the energy swirling into a dense blue orb in his hands. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the charged aether hurtling toward Ryder.

It happened too fast for Ryder to react, but before the bolt could strike, the same honeycomb shield materialized in front of him, absorbing the attack. Ryder turned to see the boy nodding at him, a smirk on his face. Grateful for the assist, Ryder returned the nod and quickly summoned more aether. The energy felt instinctual now, as if it had always been a part of him. He launched a bolt of pure energy at his attacker, striking him square in the chest. The man crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

“The dragon!” Ryder shouted, turning toward the other side of the cottage. There, the men struggling to control the bound creature were losing their grip. One of them froze when he saw Ryder approaching, fear flashing across his face. He released the ropes and bolted back into the forest, leaving the others behind to wrestle with the dragon’s thrashing.

The dragon, sensing the shift, whipped its tail violently, sending two of the men flying. Smoke and flames burst from its nostrils as it tried to break free, but its wings remained bound tightly, preventing it from taking flight.

“Scare them off—I’ll calm the dovaa!” the boy called, his voice firm but calm.

Ryder nodded, breaking into a sprint to circle around the dragon. He focused on the remaining men, unleashing a series of aetheric bolts. Each strike sent them reeling, their spells faltering as they scrambled to retreat. One man fell to his knees, clutching his chest before retreating into the shadows of the forest. Another ran for cover, only to be hit square in the back by one of Ryder’s attacks, the force throwing him against a nearby tree. The rest had escaped and had taken cover in the forest. 

Ryder approached the man slumped against the tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he attempted to catch it. He dispelled the staff before deciding to inspect the man more closely. He was unconscious, his chest barely rising with shallow breaths. Ryder’s gaze caught the intricate details of the man’s garb. Among the otherwise utilitarian outfit, two items stood out: a beautifully inlaid metal ring on his hand and a pin on his chest, etched with a strange, unfamiliar symbol.

Ryder frowned, leaning in to study the pin more closely. The symbol looked deliberately crafted, its sharp, angular design suggesting some kind of organization or allegiance. Before he could make sense of it, the man’s body began to dissolve.

“What the—?” Ryder muttered, taking an involuntary step back.

The man’s body and clothing began breaking apart into tiny pixelated particles that hovered in the air for a moment before drifting away on the wind. Ryder stood frozen, his heart pounding as he watched the particles scatter, leaving no trace of the man behind.

“Did I… just kill him?” Ryder whispered, his voice trembling. No, he thought, shaking his head. This is something else. This isn’t natural.

But the question lingered, heavy in his chest. Had his magic truly erased this man from existence? The reality of the situation caused him to shudder, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever conflict he had stumbled into was far more dangerous—and mysterious—than he had anticipated.

“Help!”

Ryder snapped out of his thoughts at the boy’s desperate cry, his head whipping around to see the boy crouched beside the dragon. The creature, though visibly calmer, still writhed slightly as the boy worked to cut through its bindings with a small dagger. Ryder hurried over, slowing his pace as he approached to avoid startling the dragon.

“Please, help me,” the boy called, his voice strained. “We need to get these ropes off. Don’t worry—he’s mostly calm. He knows we’re not here to hurt him. Just approach him carefully. There’s another dagger over there,” he added, nodding toward the ground a few feet away. “One of the men dropped it. It’s sharp, so be careful.”

Ryder gave a quick nod, still unsure who this boy was but trusting his urgency. He moved to where the dagger lay and picked it up. The sheath bore the same peculiar symbol he had seen on the pin of the man by the tree. Unsheathing it, Ryder revealed a blade made of gleaming obsidian, its edges razor-sharp and almost humming with latent energy.

He took a steadying breath and followed the boy’s lead, approaching the dragon with a calmness he wasn’t sure he could maintain. Its golden scales shimmered as it shifted slightly, watching him with intelligent, wary eyes. Ryder crouched beside it, sliding the blade carefully between the ropes and the creature’s thick scales.

With slow, deliberate movements, he began sawing at the bindings. The ropes resisted at first but eventually frayed under the sharp edge of the obsidian dagger. Bit by bit, the dragon’s restraints fell away, and its movements grew less frantic.

After several minutes of careful work, Ryder and the boy finally removed the last of the ropes and the tight muzzle. The dragon lifted its head, its nostrils flaring as it stretched its neck. Then, with a powerful shake, it unfurled its wings, the golden membranes catching the light.

For a brief moment, the dragon turned its gaze to Ryder and the boy. It dipped its head low in what felt like a gesture of gratitude. Then, with a thunderous beat of its wings, the dragon launched itself into the air, soaring high above the forest and disappearing into the distance, toward the towering mountains beyond.

Ryder let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his grip on the dagger loosening. He sheathed it and glanced at the boy, who was now standing, brushing dirt off his knees.

“Thank you,” the boy said with a warm smile as he approached Ryder. The dragon’s disappearance left behind a sense of peace. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you showed up when you did—and I’m sure that baby dovaa would agree. Please, come inside. Let me get you something to drink.”

The boy gestured toward the front of the cottage and began walking back. Ryder hesitated briefly, then followed, still holding the dagger loosely in his hand before dispelling it into his vault.

As Ryder stepped inside, the boy closed the door behind them and shrugged off his coat, hanging it neatly on a nearby rack. Ryder took in his surroundings, surprised by how spacious and inviting the inside of the cottage felt compared to its modest exterior. A large hearth dominated one wall, surrounded by comfortable couches and chairs, with an ornate rug tying the space together. Toward the back of the room was a well-organized kitchen, complete with a prep table, a sink, and a variety of pots and pans neatly arranged on hooks. Adjacent to it stood a dining area, large enough for a family, with a staircase tucked off to one side and doors leading to other rooms on the other.

“So,” the boy said as he headed to the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder. “Would you care for some tea?”

Ryder nodded. “Sure, thanks.”

“Good! Make yourself at home,” the boy replied, gesturing to the living area.

Ryder sat down cautiously in one of the chairs, choosing the one facing the kitchen so he could keep an eye on the boy. He wasn’t ready to let his guard down completely—not yet.

The boy moved with practiced ease, filling a pan with water and placing it on a stovetop-like device. With a snap of his fingers, a small flame flickered to life beneath the pan. Ryder raised an eyebrow, noting the casual use of magic.

After a few moments, the boy poured the steaming water into two cups and added some leaves and petals from a jar on the counter. With a smile, he carried the cups back to the living area and handed one to Ryder.

“Here you go,” the boy said, settling into the chair across from Ryder. His smile remained, kind yet curious, as if he were sizing Ryder up just as much as Ryder was studying him.

Ryder accepted the cup with a small nod. “Thanks,” he said. There were still so many questions swirling in his mind, but for now, he decided to wait and let the boy speak first.

“I’m Eon, by the way,” the boy said, breaking the silence with a friendly smile. “Apologies for not introducing myself sooner. Welcome to my abode. I wish it were under better circumstances, but as I said earlier, I’m truly thankful for your arrival.”

Ryder nodded, gripping the warm teacup in his hands. “Happy to make your acquaintance, Eon. Thank you for the tea. I’m Ryder. I’m…” He trailed off, his gaze lowering to the swirling blue liquid in his cup as he searched for the right words. Where did he even begin? The questions piling up in his mind threatened to overwhelm him.

Finally, he looked up. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what’s going on here. Who were those men attacking us? And why did they have a dragon—” he hesitated, then corrected himself, “—a dovaa?”

Eon cocked his head, sipping his tea thoughtfully. “Dragon? See, I thought I heard you say that earlier. Is that what you call a dovaa?”

Ryder frowned slightly, unsure if this was some kind of misunderstanding. “Y-yes? That creature they had tied up—that’s a dragon, right?”

“Hmm,” Eon mused, setting his cup down on the table. “You call it a dragon, I call it a dovaa. Interesting. Curious how the same creature might have different names in different places.” He leaned back in his chair, his expression turning serious. “To answer your question, I’m not entirely sure what they wanted, but I do have my suspicions. What brings you here, Ryder?”

Ryder looked back down into his cup to buy time in order to think. However, he quickly became captivated by the tea’s vibrant blue hue. It seemed to shimmer and glow, as if imbued with its own light. He had never seen anything so beautiful in something as simple as tea. Tentatively, he took a sip. The flavors of vanilla, honey, and a faint hint of strawberries and cream danced on his tongue, warm and soothing. A wave of calm washed over him, easing his fears and insecurities. For a brief moment, he was reminded of the field of flowers from earlier, the nostalgia tugging at his heart.

“Oh, this is delicious,” Ryder said, savoring another sip. “What is it?”

Eon’s eyes widened slightly, his tone tinged with disbelief. “Have you never had aeiabloom tea before?”

Ryder shook his head. “No. What’s an aeiabloom? Is it those flowers?”

Eon stared at him, slack-jawed. “What’s an aeiabloom?! Are you mad?! Only the greatest gift bestowed upon us by the Mother Tree, Aeiaris!” He scoffed and chuckled, taking another sip of his tea. “What’s an aeiabloom,” he repeated to himself, shaking his head in amusement.

Ryder suddenly felt self-conscious, as though Eon thought he had asked something absurd. “I’m sorry,” Ryder said, setting his cup down on the side table next to him. “I don’t even know where I am.” He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

Eon’s brows furrowed in confusion. “You don’t know…?” His voice trailed off before he stood abruptly, placing his cup on a side table. He stepped closer to Ryder, leaning in slightly and peering into his green eyes as if searching for answers. “You’re not from here, are you?”

Ryder shook his head as he stared back into Eon’s gray-blue eyes. “I don’t even know where here is. So, no, I don’t believe so.”

Eon cocked his head to the side, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Curiouser and curiouser,” he murmured, pacing back to his seat.

The phrase struck a chord in Ryder, sparking recognition. “Is this… Wonderland? Like Alice in Wonderland?”

Eon raised an eyebrow, perplexed. ”Wonderland? I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is Aetherealm.”

Ryder’s heart skipped a beat. “Aetherealm?!” he exclaimed. “I created Aetherealm! I knew that field, the flowers, the bridge, the forked paths—they were all familiar. I created this world… but how?” His voice faltered as he rubbed his chin, his mind racing to piece together the impossible truth.

Eon looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “I’ll have to assume you’re completely out of your wits,” he said, shaking his head. “The world was formed in the beginning by Arcaenion, God of Creation and first Grand Luminary. He formed the Mother Tree, Aeiaris, through which every aetherean is born. Must I teach you our entire history?”

“Aetherean?” Ryder repeated, his confusion deepening. “Is that what you call yourselves?”

Eon stared at him, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. “You’re speaking as though you’ve fallen out of the sky from another world, Ryder. Are you… alright?” His voice softened, the sincerity in his tone unmistakable.

“It’s as though I have, if I’m honest,” Ryder admitted, his voice trembling slightly. He couldn’t hold it back any longer. If he wanted answers, he needed to be completely honest. If he couldn’t trust Eon, who could he trust? He took a deep, steadying breath.

“I’m from Earth,” he began, his tone measured yet uncertain. “I had been working on a riddle for months—one that had been haunting me. Finally, I figured it out. I was in my guardian’s workshop, inspecting this old mirror in the bathroom, and… it came loose from the wall.” He hesitated, reliving the moment in his mind. “I fell through it. And then, suddenly, I was here in a clearing, surrounded by flowers, with legs.”

He glanced down at his legs, one of them trembling involuntarily. Ryder grasped it tightly, willing himself to stay calm. Another deep breath steadied him, and he looked up at Eon with a determined gaze. “And now I’m stuck here, trying to find my way back home.”

Eon’s expressions shifted rapidly, moving from confusion to shock, and finally, to a quiet sadness. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came immediately. His brow furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, as if trying to process what he had just heard.

“That… sounds horrifying,” he finally said, his voice low with sympathy. “You’ve been through something incredible—and terrifying. But from what you’ve described…” He paused, his gaze sharpening. “It sounds like you passed through a rift.”

“A rift?” Ryder asked, curiosity laced with hope.

Eon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Follow me,” he said, his voice firm but kind. Without waiting for a response, he strode across the room and disappeared through an open door next to the kitchen.

Ryder hesitated only for a moment before rising to his feet and following, his heart racing. Maybe, just maybe, Eon held the key to understanding how he had come to this world and, more importantly, how he might get back.

As Ryder stepped into the room, it was clear this was Eon’s study. A large desk sat at the center, where Eon was rifling through a chaotic stack of papers, his focus intense. Against the far wall, another desk was cluttered with bottles, dried herbs, and an assortment of mysterious knickknacks, suggesting both experimentation and a passion for alchemy. Closest to the door, an entire wall was lined with bookshelves crammed with volumes of all shapes and sizes. It was a proper study—messy, magical, and intriguing.

“Ah, here we are!” Eon said triumphantly, pulling a parchment from the chaos. He turned and practically shoved it into Ryder’s hands.

Ryder looked down and read the bold header: Rift Magic

“Let me explain,” Eon said, moving to the center of the room and gesturing for Ryder to follow. “Rift magic is, in essence, the art of opening a portal to another place—another space entirely. Only the most skilled mages can create a usable rift. From what I’ve studied—since I can’t make rifts myself—it requires imagining the place you wish to go with absolute clarity. You must bring forth that place into reality. Based on what I’ve seen from you today, I believe you’re powerful enough to give it a try.”

Ryder’s eyes widened, his grip tightening on the parchment. “Bring forth a portal…” he repeated, the concept feeling both fantastical and overwhelming. But he knew he had to try. Eon seemed so confident in his abilities, and deep down, Ryder felt an innate connection to this kind of magic. After all, imagination was practically his core.

He nodded and closed his eyes, summoning an image of his bedroom—his sanctuary. He visualized every detail: the bed centered against the wall, his desk with its gaming setup, and his beloved bookshelf crammed with novels and notes of all kinds. He stretched out his hand, feeling the aether gather and pool before him. It twisted into a large, swirling oval that shimmered with possibility.

When he opened his eyes, however, the portal remained empty, the image of his room absent. A moment later, the swirling magic dissipated entirely, vanishing into thin air.

“Wow, that was amazing!” Eon exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.

Ryder frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Nothing happened,” he said with a sigh.

Eon stepped closer, his expression incredulous. “What do I mean!? You created a rift! Do you know how rare that is? How did you even do that!?”

Ryder shook his head, frustration creeping in. “It didn’t work. I was trying to go back home—I imagined my bedroom, but nothing came through.”

“But the fact that you created one at all is extraordinary!” Eon insisted. “You have no idea how rare that ability is. Why not try opening a rift to the place where you first arrived here? You mentioned a field of flowers, right? Let’s start there.”

Ryder sighed, feeling the weight of Eon’s anticipation. Still, he nodded and closed his eyes once more. This time, he pictured the gold and blue flowers swaying in the breeze, the sweet scent of the aether-infused air filling his lungs. With his arm outstretched, the aether began to pool again, forming a swirling oval. As it solidified, the image of the flower field came into view, vivid and real. Ryder opened his eyes, and for a moment, he swore he could even smell the flowers.

“This was it,” he said, smiling faintly. Despite his earlier frustration, the success filled him with relief.

“Aeiabloom Field,” Eon said, his voice hushed in awe. Then, his excitement overtook him. “Let’s rift!” He practically skipped toward the portal, nodding enthusiastically before stepping through. The rift rippling as he vanished into it.

Ryder hesitated for only a moment before following. Stepping through the rift felt like passing through water, and in an instant, he was standing in the familiar field once more. Behind him, the rift shimmered briefly before collapsing, leaving no trace it had ever existed.

There they stood, back in the field of flowers, the gold and blue blooms swaying gently in the breeze. Eon’s expression was one of sheer disbelief, his eyes wide as he took in the aftermath of what had just transpired. “You actually opened a rift,” he murmured, almost to himself. He turned to Ryder, his voice tinged with awe. “This is Aeiabloom Field. The blue flowers are a gift from Aeiaris, the Mother Tree. She turns the gold flowers blue to remind us that aether is within us all and surrounds us always. It allows us to actually see what color aether could be. At least that’s what the legends say.”

Kneeling, Eon plucked one of the blue flowers carefully, aether spilling softly from its center like liquid light. He handed it to Ryder.

Ryder accepted the flower, watching as the luminous dust floated into the air, shimmering like threads of magic. He twirled the aether between his fingers, mesmerized. “The aether… it’s beautiful, enchanting. But you’re saying you can’t see it?”

Eon shook his head. “No. That’s why the flowers turn blue—for us to remember the presence of aether.”

Ryder’s brow furrowed. “So, you don’t see the dust?” he asked, toying with the glowing particles emanating from the flower.

“Dust?” Eon’s eyes widened, his voice growing more urgent. “Wait—you can actually see it? The legends describe it as dust on the wind, constantly flowing, but most of us can’t see it. I’ve spent my life practicing aether sensing, and even then, it takes all my concentration to feel the trace of it.”

Ryder nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s exactly what it looks like. It glows, too,” he said, experimentally tugging at the aether with his fingertips. The threads responded, drawing away from the flower as if guided by his will. Slowly, the deep blue petals began to fade back into gold, drained of their magic. Above his palm, the aether gathered into a circular, buoyant sphere of pure energy.

Fascinated, Ryder stared at the floating orb before closing his fingers around it. The sphere burst into shimmering dust, which scattered on the wind and disappeared.

Eon’s jaw dropped, his words caught in his throat watching the flower drain of color. “What… what did you just do? H-how did you—?”

Ryder jumped slightly at Eon’s reaction, startled by the intensity in his voice. “It’s like a string,” Ryder explained, his tone cautious. “I just… pulled, and it came away from the flower.”

Eon turned away, pacing as he stroked his chin, clearly deep in thought. “I don’t know what I just witnessed… or how you have the power to do that.” He stopped abruptly and turned back to Ryder, his expression resolute. “But we need to get you to the Grand Luminary, Oberon, right away.”

“Grand Luminary?” Ryder echoed, the title unfamiliar yet weighty. “Is that… like a king or something?”

Eon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re really going to need a history lesson, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting into something more instructive. “Alright, let me explain…”

“Oberon is Aetherealm’s current Grand Luminary,” Eon began, his voice steady and reverent. “He’s the most powerful mage in all the land. The title of Grand Luminary comes with immense responsibility—protecting Aetherealm, maintaining peace among the holds, and safeguarding its magic. It’s a position I, and many other mages, have dreamed of attaining our entire lives. But it’s no easy task.”

Eon paused, gauging Ryder’s reaction before continuing. “The Grand Luminary is chosen through the Aetherial Ascension, a legendary tournament of mages. It’s a lifetime appointment, and until their death, the Grand Luminary serves as Aetherealm’s Guiding Light. Beyond their leadership duties, they are entrusted with two of the most powerful magical relics in existence: the Vaelstone and the Lexicon of Luminaries.”

Ryder tilted his head, intrigued but still piecing it all together.

Eon took a breath and continued, “The Vaelstone is a crystal of immense power. It’s said to amplify a mage’s abilities tenfold. The Lexicon of Luminaries, on the other hand, holds every magical and mysterious secret Aetherealm has ever known. Both relics are passed down through the generations of Grand Luminaries.”

He leaned back slightly, his tone softening as he added, “The Grand Luminary also resides in Aetherspire, the largest and most fortified keep in all of Aetherealm. It’s hidden away in the Glimmerglade Mountains on the continent of Luminaris. They say the view from there spans the entire realm. And if the tales are true, it’s breathtaking.”

Ryder blinked, trying to absorb the flood of information. “So… basically, Oberon is like the king,” he muttered to himself, nodding slowly. It was clear now just how significant the title was.

Eon chuckled at Ryder’s summation. “He’s the Grand Luminary, and he isn’t just a ruler—he’s a mage of unparalleled skill. Which is why I think he’s the one who can help you.”

Ryder straightened slightly. “Do you really think he could help me get back home?”

Eon nodded emphatically, his expression lighting up. “I do. You can create rifts and see aether—and even control it it seems. Those abilities alone are extraordinary. If anyone can shed light on your situation and help you, it’s the Grand Luminary. I’m sure the Lexicon holds some sort of answers for you.”

Eon grinned suddenly, clapping his hands together. “Ah, I’ll take you to him! I know the way, though it’s quite the trek. But with you by my side, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Worst case, if anything happens, you can always rift us out of danger.”

Ryder hesitated, his mind racing with thoughts of the journey ahead. The idea of meeting someone as powerful as Oberon was daunting, but if it meant finding a way home, he couldn’t afford to pass it up.

After a few moments of careful deliberation, Ryder finally nodded. “Let’s go see the Grand Luminary, then.”

Eon nodded, his smile broadening with excitement. “Brilliant!” he exclaimed, producing an empty glass bottle seemingly out of thin air with a flick of his wrist. “Before we set off, there’s something we need. Follow me.”

The two trekked southward, their steps crunching softly on the forest floor, until the trees thinned and opened into a stunning vista. A vast, open lake stretched before them, its surface gleaming like liquid glass. As the sun sank toward the horizon, it painted the sky in an awe-inspiring array of colors—vivid oranges and reds melting into soft purples and blues, accented by shimmering bands of iridescence that formed a perpetual rainbow above the lake.

Ryder stopped in his tracks, captivated. “It’s… beautiful,” he murmured. The sight was unlike anything he had ever witnessed, a reminder of just how extraordinary this realm was.

Eon moved to the shoreline, crouching to fill the bottle he had summoned with the lake’s crystalline water. “This is Auravael Lake,” he explained, his voice reverent. “Its water is essential for any long journey. They call it the healing water for good reason—it can mend wounds, restore vitality, and ease exhaustion. No other source in Aetherealm has its properties. Most don’t even realize what a treasure it is unless they’ve studied its history.” He paused, glancing at Ryder. “I always keep a few gallons of it at home—never know when you might need it.”

He stood, capping the bottle and filling several more, handing a couple to Ryder. “Take these. You’ll thank me later.”

Ryder dispelled them into his vault with but a thought, feeling the weight of their significance. “Thanks,” he said, still glancing at the mesmerizing lake as they prepared to leave.

“Shall we be off?” Eon asked, his cheerful tone cutting through Ryder’s lingering awe.

Ryder nodded, and the two began making their way back through the forest, now heading west. As they walked, the golden hues of the fading sunset filtered through the trees, casting long, soft shadows along their path.

Eon, ever the conversationalist, began recounting stories from his life in Aetherealm. His voice was animated, full of humor and passion as he spoke about his studies, his attempts at mastering magic, and the peculiarities of the realm. Ryder listened intently, absorbing every detail.

Though the journey was just beginning, Ryder felt the stirrings of hope. With Eon as his guide and the path to the Grand Luminary ahead, he couldn’t shake the sense that this would be the journey of a lifetime.