The sunlight that pierced through the canopy of the Emerald Jungle was different today. It felt heavier.
Kael Light stood on the porch of the treehouse that had been his entire world for eighteen years. Below him, the jungle hummed with life. Neon-blue beetles skittered across moss that glowed with ambient mana, and the distant roar of a Iron-Hide Bear echoed off the mountains.
To anyone else, this place was the "Forbidden Zone," a death trap of carnivorous plants and ancient beasts. To Kael, it was just the backyard.
He wiped his hands on his apron, smelling of crushed star-mint and roasted boar. He turned back to the interior of the treehouse.
"Breakfast is ready, Mother," Kael said, his voice soft.
Sitting in a wicker chair by the window was a woman who looked no older than twenty-five. She had silver hair that cascaded like a waterfall of moonlight down her back and eyes that held the depth of a thousand oceans.
Elara Star. The Witch of the Emerald Canopy.
She didn't turn immediately. She was staring at a single leaf falling from a branch outside.
"Eighteen years," Elara whispered. Her voice was melodious, but today, it carried a friction it had never held before. "Has it truly been that long, Kael?"
Kael set the plate down on the small wooden table. "You ask me that every year. Yes. Today is the day."
He pulled up a stool and sat opposite her. He studied her face. For as long as he could remember, Elara had never aged. Not a single wrinkle, not a single gray hair. She was frozen in time, beautiful and terrifyingly perfect.
But today, Kael—who had mastered the Third Stage of the Healing Arts—saw what others couldn't.
Her aura was fraying. The massive, ocean-like mana that usually surrounded her was evaporating like mist in the morning sun.
"You look tired," Kael said, his throat tightening.
Elara finally looked at him. She smiled, and for the first time in his life, Kael saw a wrinkle form at the corner of her eye.
"I am not tired, my little light," she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. Her hand was warm, but it felt insubstantial, like he was being touched by a sunbeam rather than flesh. "I am finally resting."
Kael grabbed her hand, holding it tight. He felt the pulse—slow, rhythmic, and fading.
"It's the curse, isn't it?" Kael asked. "The one you told me about."
"The Curse of the Undying," Elara corrected gently. "For nine hundred and ninety-nine years, I have walked this earth. I have seen kingdoms rise from mud and crumble back into dust. I have been worshipped as a goddess and hunted as a witch."
She pulled her hand back gently and gestured to the food. "Eat, Kael. You are a growing boy. And today... today you are a man."
Kael didn't touch the food. "You said the curse would break. You didn't say it would take you with it."
Elara sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "My body was sustained by the curse, Kael. Time was held back by a dam. Now that the dam is breaking, time is rushing in to claim what is owed."
She stood up. Despite her fading aura, she moved with a grace that made the air around her vibrate. She walked to an old, iron-bound chest in the corner of the room.
"Kael, come here."
He obeyed. He always obeyed. She was his mother, his teacher, and his only friend.
Elara opened the chest. Inside lay two items.
The first was a book bound in leather that felt like dragon skin. It hummed with a low, thrumming energy. The Codex of Primordial Arts.
The second was a ring. It was simple, made of a white metal that seemed to absorb the light around it.
"The world outside is not like this jungle," Elara said, picking up the ring. "Out there, magic has become small. They draw circles in the dust and call it power. They have forgotten the Old Ways."
She took Kael's hand and slid the white ring onto his index finger. It resized instantly to fit him.
"This is a Stasis Ring," she explained. "Your mana... it is too dense, Kael. I taught you too well. If you unleash your full power in a human city, they will sense you from miles away. This ring will suppress your aura. It will make you look like a standard 3-Ring Mage. Only take it off if your life depends on it."
Kael looked at the ring, then back at her. "I don't want the ring. I want you to stay."
"Selfishness is a survival trait," Elara laughed softly, "but not today."
She picked up the heavy book and pressed it into his chest.
"I found you abandoned at the edge of the jungle, crying in the rain. I thought I was saving you." Elara's eyes shimmered with tears. "But the condition to break my curse was to raise a child with a heart pure enough to inherit the Ancient Arts. You were never my burden, Kael. You were my cure."
A crack of light appeared on Elara's skin, like porcelain shattering.
Kael panicked. He flared his mana. Four massive, intricate rings of golden light materialized instantly behind his back—the mark of a High Mage. He channeled pure healing energy into his hands, pressing them against her shoulders.
"Regenerate!" he shouted, the command laced with mana.
The green energy flooded into her, but it passed right through.
"Stop," Elara whispered. She grabbed his glowing wrists. "You cannot heal time, Kael. That is the one thing even the Ancient Gods cannot fight."
The cracks spread. Her fingertips began to dissolve into shimmering dust.
"Listen to me," she commanded, her voice gaining one last burst of strength. "You have a gift. You can heal, and you can destroy. Go see the world I was too tired to explore. Fall in love. Get your heart broken. Eat bad food. Drink strong wine. Live, Kael. Live for me."
"Mother—"
"I love you, my light."
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
As her lips touched his skin, the dam broke.
There was no explosion. There was only a soft sigh, like the wind passing through the trees. Kael's arms, which had been holding her, suddenly collapsed against his own chest.
The woman named Elara Star shattered into a million specks of golden light.
The light didn't fade immediately. It swirled around the room, warm and comforting, brushing against Kael's wet cheeks one last time before drifting out the open window and ascending into the morning sky.
Kael stood alone in the silence.
The breakfast was still warm on the table. The birds were still singing outside. The world hadn't stopped.
He looked down at his hands. He was clutching the Codex so hard his knuckles were white. The white ring on his finger felt cold.
"Happy Birthday, Kael," he whispered to the empty room.
He stood there for an hour, watching the last mote of light disappear into the clouds. Then, he wiped his face. He didn't scream. He didn't rage. Elara had taught him better than that.
He walked to his pack, which was already half-packed with herbs and potions. He shoved the Codex inside. He threw a traveler's cloak over his shoulders.
He walked to the door, paused, and looked back at the empty wicker chair.
"I will live," he promised the silence. "I will see it all."
Kael stepped out of the treehouse and descended the ladder. He didn't look back.
He walked toward the edge of the jungle, toward the Kingdom of Oakhaven, toward a destiny that would eventually tear him apart.
But for now, he was just a boy with a ring, a book, and a broken heart, stepping into the sun.