No matter how brilliant, beautiful, or powerful we become, our fate is to be consumed by worms beneath the dirt. All beings were equal in death. But now I see that there was a possibility of avoiding death. I was and still am a creature that refuses to be caged, and as such, I refused to be trapped...destined for the grave.

  I would not be Emyr, growing old and decrepit only to die by the roadside. Nor would I be Elis or Surian, killed by treachery. The kings, nobles, emperors, wealthy and powerful magi…were they free? No, not even Heywood, for all his power, was free. Even when I grew more powerful than Heywood, would I be free then? No, I would still be caged by mortality. I would be like the phoenix, eternal and undying. A smile came over my lips as I remembered my conversation with Jenna.

  ‘I wonder how she would have reacted to meeting an actual dryad.’

  Perhaps it was fear of my own mortality; perhaps I am just grasping at straws, trying to avoid the inevitable. Either way, it was a path that I would walk. It was natural for humans to die. But if there was one thing I knew that magic could do, it was changing nature. But if death awaited me regardless of any decision I made in life, then chasing immortality was the only decision to make.

  ~

  A small sliver of metal costs more energy than my entire reservoir to enchant. How much energy would it take to enchant a living body, if it were even possible?

  Wood? Coal? Water wheels? I doubted that they would be sufficient sources of energy. But the stones, however, were primal energy in its purest form. One wasn't that impressive, but what about 50? 100? 1000?

  With that much energy, I could do anything. But the cost was human life, likely a large amount of it. How much material and coin would there be in the experimentation? How many lives would have been sacrificed before I successfully created the first stone? Truly, I didn't know, but I had to try.

  I already figured I would need a large amount of infrastructure to enchant iron; enchanting human life would no doubt be many more times expensive. I needed the resources of an entire country, most likely. A single person could not support such an effort. Even worse was the inevitable problem if the information about my experimentation leaked to the public at large.

  People would call for my death, and if the magisterium found out, then they would be forced to act, taking extreme measures. I could not shield myself against their wrath; every commoner, noble, and magus would brand me an enemy. And once more, death would be my inevitable fate. How do I circumvent this and address the resource issue?

  The only solution I could find was becoming said queen or empress. Only they had the power to move that many resources, and Rennah demonstrated that, if arranged correctly, people would turn a blind eye to any kind of depravity. And her position effectively shielded her from any reprisals. I sighed in annoyance.

  Not once have I ever been interested in the idea; the trappings of nobility and leadership, I saw from my time serving Surian, were antithetical to my belief in true freedom, but magic required sacrifice. There was no true freedom for me in this life if my destiny was to be buried beneath the earth and become a feast for the worms. Therefore, I must sacrifice my temporary agency to gain an ever greater freedom.

  Even if there was only a 1% chance, I must walk the path of true freedom. But before any of that could come into fruition, I had to gain greater mastery of my magic.

  ‘It could be impossible in the end, Myr. You could just be deluding yourself with scraps of information; all you have is an old scroll, tales from a dryad, and a suspicion that it would work.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No, even if it is impossible, it is better to try. Everyone and everything is trapped in the massive cage that is their own mortality—everyone but the Dryad. I will break free, even if I have to trap myself in the cage that is nobility and leadership for the rest of my natural life.’

  ‘Magic requires sacrifice.’

  ~

  My first binding, after months, was as easy as breathing, even more so after reaching the limit of my concentration. I realized something incredible; I no longer had to verbalize the binding runes. Simply saying them in my head was more than enough, which meant something like a simple binding, which usually took me a few seconds, I could do in less than one.

  Even more interesting was the fact that I no longer needed to focus on focused bindings. If I didn't actually focus on it, then the binding strength would degrade to the same as a passive binding, but this also meant that I could maintain a binding even in my sleep. The number of focused bindings I could maintain simultaneously was an impressive 34, more than double my previous amount.

  My only assumption for this massive increase was the sheer strain I put on my animus to maintain the mental projection of health while traveling to the dryad. Reaching for my protective amulet, I flipped it around to reveal the dragon’s breath circuit. Pointing it directly up, I created a dual binding to my reservoir.

  An over 100-foot cone of flame erupted into the air, the sheer force pushing me into the ground. I cut it off after only a few seconds. I could maintain that flame for around seven seconds with the amulet alone. In fact, I could probably push it to around 150 if not for the recoil becoming too much to handle.

  A passive binding was usually 10% of the strength of the focused binding. At my level of ability, it was around 15 to 20%. Going through all my magical formulae, from gravity manipulation to fire and protection, they were at the point where even a passive binding would provide more than enough power to be effective.

  I was quickly reaching the point where there was little benefit to me in terms of binding strength. It was time I looked outward and increased the scale of my magic.

  I thought back to the many times I considered leadership or actually taking control of a nation to be a moronic waste of time. But here I was, truly considering the idea. Freedom from the cages that bind all humanity was my true goal, and magic was the means to that end.

  While it was nice to have a grand end goal, the mastery of my magical abilities still took priority. After all, I couldn't exactly turn myself into some immortal magus without absolute mastery of magic.

  ~

  Three kingdoms dominated this continent, four if I consider the Andregi. Ferosia seemed the best option. Slavery was a problem; the other nations found it repulsive, but that, however, could grant me increased legitimacy from the barons that bordered Ferosia. Slavers invading the border towns and villages had been a problem for centuries.

  Would the ruling families of Helios not support a queen who was attempting to abolish slavery, finally ridding Aniera of this scourge?

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Ferosia had passable farmland and exceptional mines, but the best thing about Ferosia was the lack of magic, though it being illegal was a challenge.

  ‘The scale of magic. That’s the key, isn’t it?’

  With all the treasure I had buried, coin was not an issue. I needed people, but how do I find them? I suppose I should start small, with a few trusted confidants, and expand outward. I stood, feeling the ache in my legs.

  “Two and a half years…” I mused. I needed to rest and recover, spend some time mastering my new strength, and practice my magic. If I could work something out with the dryad, I wouldn't mind spending another two months recovering.

  I stood and started walking back towards the gigantic tree.

  “If I were to expand outwards, what kind of magic would be most effective?”

  I threw my mind back to almost six years ago, when Surian’s caravan was attacked. “Protection amulets from arrows, gloves with switching circuits to control streams of flame. Magical crossbows, enchanted armor, and weapons. Even then, how do I actually take control of a kingdom in a single lifetime?” I mumbled.

  Shaking my head, I decided to focus on short-term goals instead. I took a deep breath, enjoying the sweet honey scent in the air. “I should start with a new kind of binding.”

  ~

  “Azurite… What is it used for?” I asked while sipping a bowl of her sap. I apparently ate nothing but it for the entire time I was recovering. Sitting at the base of her tree, I watched the sunset with the dryad.

  “Human implementations are unknown to me. But magical beasts use it to augment certain abilities.”

  “What about dragons?” I asked.

  “Dragons and other Draconian monsters use it to sense metal over long distances or deep within the earth.”

  “Why do you not desire a mate?” She asked.

  “Bearing offspring means nothing to me. And I care not for the males of my species.”

  The dryad paused. “Yet, you have sexual desires for your own gender. This is strange.”

  I shrugged. “Life is strange…. Perhaps whatever drives such desires in me is broken, some switch is flipped, and instead of a chiseled face, strong arms, and a burly chest, I find wide hips, large breasts, and delicate features attractive.”

  “Do you believe yourself broken?”

  Smirking, I said, “No, not in the least. I am perfect.”

  We were doing this odd back-and-forth questioning for some time. The clearing was so comfortable I felt no need to wear clothes.

  “Does your magic involve bindings the same way human magic does?”

  “Yes, but it is not as structured. Chaos is chaos; it is everywhere and in everything. I give it a path, and it follows my will.”

  “Is it normal to feel the ripples of another’s binding being formed?” I asked.

  “For a human, no, unless the binding was exceptionally powerful and you have a developed animus. For a magical creature, we can see and feel the chaos; even a small binding, we can sense.”

  I nodded, recalling the memories of the dragon.

  “Humans have evolved to value community. Why have you rejected this?” she asked.

  “The catalyst was my upbringing; rejection and abuse as a child pushed me away from it. Eventually, I found goals more important than reestablishing the human need for companionship and family. ”

  “So, you would say that nurture, not nature, decided your path in life,” she mused aloud.

  “Yes, how we begin this life largely decides how we end it. Luck and perseverance are what altered my fate. In the end, I made my choices and do not regret them.”

  After a few seconds of silence, I asked, “Do you use runes in your magic?”

  “I use the essence of runes. What is stone, movement, or light but another permutation of chaos?”

  ‘Close enough to a yes. I wonder what her opinion on religion is?’

  “Do you believe in an omnipotent being?”

  The dryad was quiet for over five minutes before she spoke, “I am not sure.”

  “Not sure if they exist or if you believe in one.”

  “Both.”

  “If you could kill me for power, would you?” She asked.

  My first instinct was to lie, but something told me that she would see through it. “Yes.”

  ‘Alright, time to ask my real questions.’

  “Were you always immortal?”

  “I am not immortal; I am unaging.”

  I blinked and forged onward regardless. “Were you always unaging? ”

  “No, I am a plant. All plants age and die, but my life span increases as I grow new trees.”

  “You haven't expanded your forest,” I observed.

  “It will be many thousands of years before that becomes necessary; you and your empires will be dust long before then.”

  ‘So she isn't technically immortal. Is it impossible, then, and only extending life is feasible?’

  “Do you believe in a deity?” She asked.

  I shook my head firmly. “No, I do not, or at the very least, if there is, humanity certainly has no grasp on what that being truly is.”

  “Enchanting rules on changing the nature of a substance. Is such a thing possible with a living creature?”

  She answered immediately, “Yes, it is how magical beings change and grow, adopting new abilities and abandoning old ones. But your true question is if you could change your own nature.”

  I nodded eagerly and waited for her to answer, “You are not evolved to adopt changes of nature, but it is reasonable to believe that you could change your nature forcefully. The result is death to incongruity.”

  “Incongruity?” I asked.

  “Nature conflicts with reality; if you give yourself the lifespan of a dragon, you risk your body turning on itself; your animus will destroy your own body. It is inevitable, axiomatic… metal; it is simple to change, and it can revert. Life, however, cannot withstand the change and will die. I removed a small part of your animus, allowing you to recover; the effect was infertility.”

  “Drastic changes would result in greater physical trauma.” I finished the thought.

  “Indeed.”

  “So to avoid death would lead to certain death,” I said. The more I spoke with the dryad, the more impossible my goal seemed.

  The dryad actually nodded. “It is a contradiction.”

  “Are you sexually attracted to this form?” she asked, shaking me out of my thoughts.

  ~

  I talked with the dryad well into the night; she wanted to know about my life, and I was interested in magic. Death to incongruity; it seemed that no matter what my angle of approach was, it was inevitable. It was one of the things she observed from her time experimenting on humans.

  Her solution was to mimic natural changes; removing the part of my animus involved in reproduction creates an incongruity, resulting in infertility. Anything drastic, however, would lead to death; minor changes would result in some kind of permanent handicap. Not to mention, my suspicions were correct about the unimaginable amount of power needed to create even small changes.

  As I lay down staring at her branches, I examined the subject. If a dryad thousands of years old with more knowledge of magic than I could even begin to understand couldn't figure out how to do it with all her power and time spent experimenting on humans, then how would I avoid it?

  ‘Preventing my death would lead to death. What a quandary! It’s not as if someone could recover from death. It was the end of all things.’

  After an hour, a thought popped into my mind. ‘Not everything ends after death,’ My eyes flew open. ‘A phoenix’s life doesn't end after death. At least according to the stories, it consumes its own wings and is reborn.’

  I looked to the left and nearly fainted from the sight. She was sitting over me, her wooden face staring at me.

  In the moonlight, her unmoving wooden form was mildly terrifying; she had to have been staring at me for over three hours.

  “I presumed most humans needed more sleep.” She said.

  “Ah, I’m a bit restless at times. I’ll fall back asleep in a few minutes.” I said as my heart slowed.

  ‘Not human, Myr; no reason to expect that she would sleep.’

  The dryad had no sense of morality; it was best I keep that question to myself. I’d rather not give her another line of experimentation. It was still early days, and I had a lifetime to figure it out.