Gardenia’s Heart

It felt like falling endlessly until nothing could be felt at all.

There was no way to resist, no way to fight back. Sinking deeper into that void, Lily waited—it could have been seconds, or perhaps decades.

Something was entering the very core of her being. It moved slowly through the depths of her mind.

This wasn’t the first time she had gone through something like this.

Back when her mind was overwhelmed by returning memories—memories long sealed away—nothing had made sense. She had walked through all of them, one by one.

But this was different.

These weren’t her memories.

Everything was a swirling fog, scattered across different moments in time.

Fragile. Untouchable.

There was nothing she could do but continue to exist in that place.

And within that void...

“Are you alright?”

She heard a voice calling her from afar.

It was a voice she recognized—but didn’t know whose it was.

She tried to speak, even though she had no mouth. She tried to run toward that voice, though she had no legs.

It was somewhere in the center of the void. She had to find it. Like someone drowning at the bottom of a lake, the girl dug her fingers into the darkness and climbed, searching for air.

“Master?”

When the voice reached her once again, her eyes opened—and the world before her lit up.

The first thing she saw was the hardened, sandy floor—and then, the figure kneeling before her.

A body made of ancient wood, large enough to barely fit within the small cave they were in. Two oversized arms and a face like a carved mask that barely conveyed emotion.

She knew that being.

“Hmm? What is it, Nox? Can’t sleep?”

The lyrical voice that left her lips without permission wasn’t her own.

“It’s not that, Master... it’s just, you seemed really distracted.”

Nox answered, his deep voice laced with concern.

The man who seemed born from the forest itself sat across from her, continuing to stare. It was only then that Lily realized she was sitting cross-legged, as if meditating.

What was this? Lily wondered.

It didn’t feel like a hallucination.

The comforting warmth of the campfire kissed her skin, casting an amber glow that threw long shadows on the walls. A gentle breeze brushed against her. Everything felt too real.

Then her right hand moved on its own, touching her chin. She could feel the softness of her rosy skin, the steady heartbeat pulsing at her neck, and finally... the silky smoothness of her red hair.

This body wasn’t hers.

Where was she?

Why was Nox here?

He had called her—no, the body she now occupied—Master. But there was only one being Lily knew that the guardian would ever address that way.

“Master Sylvan... If something is troubling you, please tell me.”

The name hit Lily like a blow, and her mind went blank.

“Hm... Hm... Hmmmm...”

Swaying side to side, Sylvan seemed to ponder for just a moment longer before finally smiling.

“Oh, it must’ve been these little rascals~”

While Lily stood frozen in thought, her gaze drifted toward the cave entrance.

Tiny glowing orbs of light were peeking inside. The moment they noticed they’d been seen, they darted in and began to circle the woman.

“Fairies? But... why are they here?” Nox murmured, puzzled.

“That’s right, you’re familiar with them too, aren’t you? Your old village was near the forest’s edge, after all.”

Sylvan extended both hands toward the colorful orbs, gently caressing their shimmering surfaces.

“Looks like even the barrier I placed wasn’t enough to keep them out. Well, if they want to stay here, I don’t see any problem with that.”

The woman laughed softly, her red hair swaying in front of her eyes.

“How much do you know about the fairies, Nox?”

“I know a little… but I admit I lack deeper understanding,” the man replied.

His answer sparked a pleasant feeling in Sylvan’s chest—Lily could tell. She was pleased.

“Perfect. A mind can only learn once it accepts it doesn’t understand.” With graceful ease, she stood. “Since you seem wide awake too, shall we go outside for some fresh air?”

Practically skipping, Sylvan left the cave, followed closely by the fairies and Nox.

As soon as she stepped outside, the cool breeze met her, accompanied by the soft symphony it created.

“The song Rhei composed to play here really is beautiful,” Sylvan said, swaying her head to the rhythm of the wind.

“Master, you’re far too lenient with Rhei,” Nox replied with a sigh. “Because she insisted on designing this place so... unusually, it took us far longer than expected. After all the effort we put into adjusting the barrier to invert gravity on the first floor, she didn’t even bother to create an entrance to the second.”

“Haha!”

Sylvan chuckled gently, one hand resting on her stomach.

“She said something like, ‘If they can’t find the exit just because it doesn’t exist, they deserve to become bee food,’ didn’t she?”

She mimicked Rhei’s monotone voice, and Lily realized Sylvan was trying to imitate her speech pattern.

Nox sighed again, shaking his head multiple times.

Despite sitting on the ground, his large frame still required the girl to lift her head to meet his gaze.

“The fairies really seem to like you, Master.” His wooden eyes turned toward the glowing orbs circling Sylvan.

“It happens every time I come,” Sylvan replied softly. “They tend to get attached easily. Sometimes they even peek inside people’s heads just to sample their memories. Although Nerine strictly forbade them from doing that, isn’t that right?”

The moment the name of the Primordial Fairy was mentioned, and a mischievous smile appeared on the mage’s face, the glowing orbs instantly shot up into the desert sky. Seeing the comedic reaction, Sylvan couldn’t help but laugh again.

“They’re definitely going to do it again.”

Watching his master laugh so cheerfully, Nox leaned forward slightly.

“Have you ever visited the elven forest before, Master?”

“A few times. The last one wasn’t too long ago, actually. I’ve been making visits to Virelia—she’s quite a fun person, after all.”

At the mention of that name, Nox let out a surprised breath. “The queen of the elves?”

“That’s right. I just go there to drink a little, chat, things like that.”

Lily listened as the woman spoke with such amusement. Joy bloomed inside her, warm and comforting. But then her face flushed—and suddenly, Sylvan’s voice erupted.

“Can you believe it!? She’s been writing children’s stories about me!”

The mage stomped her foot repeatedly on the floating island’s ground, her long red hair flailing as she rubbed both sides of her head.

“That ungrateful brat! I’ve helped her so much! She even took advantage of me while I was drunk to ask if I knew how to treat irregular mana flow—and I helped! And this is how she repays me!? Where’s my right to consent!?”

A storm of emotions flowed into Lily like a waterfall. She didn’t know Virelia, the mother of Elarielle and Thelira, but she felt everything so clearly, it was as if she had lived through it herself.

“Irregular mana flow? That’s pretty rare. But since it was you who helped, I’m sure everything turned out fine, right?”

Nox remarked, and in response, Sylvan groaned as if she had just remembered something—and turned her eyes away.

”Uh… I think I was in a hurry at the time and ended up just leaving one of the pages from the Books of Truth with her—it had the recipe for an effective remedy—instead of making it myself.”

As she turned her gaze back, she felt Nox’s judging stare fall on her. She quickly covered her face with her hands.

”But it’s not hard to prepare if you have the ingredients. I’m sure everything went fine!”

The towering man brought one of his massive hands to his wooden face.

“...Master, was it really alright to leave that page with her?” Nox’s words were laden with exasperation.

“Don’t worry. We’re talking about Virelia. I’m sure she’ll guard the page with care—just like you all do.”

The mage gave a few quick pats on his arm.

“That’s not what I mean, Master… I meant, can this woman even read the recipe?”

“...”

Because she was sharing the mage’s body, Lily could feel, with absolute clarity, the chill that ran down Sylvan’s spine when she heard those words. A mirror wasn’t needed—Lily felt the stiff smile forming on her lips and the dry, nervous laugh that followed.

“It’s fine! She’s quite capable!”

Trying to chuckle a few more times to cover her obvious embarrassment, Sylvan turned her back and began walking stiffly away, her voice starting to tremble.

“It might take her a while, but if it’s her, I’m sure at least one page should be doable. Besides, knowledge only holds value if we truly strive for it, so it wouldn’t be right for me to just hand her all the answers.”

The awkward feeling blooming inside her wasn’t Lily’s—but it made her want to cover her own face. Sylvan had clearly forgotten the most important detail when handing over the recipe, and now was too ashamed to simply go back and fix the mistake.

“Alright, enough of that! Let’s change the subject! I’ll tell you a story!” She placed both hands on her hips and declared with cheerful energy, trying to shake off the growing embarrassment. “The first time I went to the city of Lampides, it was supposed to be just a quick visit to see Nerine. But I ended up caught in a battle I couldn’t avoid.”

She closed her eyes and shrugged, shaking her head multiple times while letting out a sigh.

“I’ll be honest with you—that opponent was a pain in the aaaaaaass.”

Nox, lacking eyebrows to raise, leaned in with interest.

“An enemy that troublesome… even for you, Master?”

“Listen, Nox. Just as your [Prison of Consciousness] allows you to confront an enemy’s mind and destroy it in direct mental combat, there are things in this world where facing them head-on is like walking straight into death.”

Sylvan’s eyes narrowed. The seriousness in her voice made it clear—she wasn’t joking anymore.

“I had never encountered anything like that before. It nearly cost me my life to create a countermeasure. The spell was so complex that, even after all these years, I doubt I could ever write it down. So I’m sorry, but… it’s too dangerous. I don’t think I could teach it to anyone.”

One of the hands resting on her waist touched a piece of wood, and Lily felt mana surge around them in powerful waves.

“It’s kind of funny, in a way. When we step beyond elemental magic and start dealing with concepts, things get messy. As someone who values effort and hard work, it’s almost ironic to admit this—but from a certain point onward, everything becomes a matter of affinity and talent.”

Mana danced through the mage’s body like a form of primordial life energy.

Lily’s mind trembled from the sheer force of it, her body shivering as if instinctively trying to comprehend something beyond mortal grasp.

Never, since the day she had started learning magic, had she felt something like this.

It was like witnessing the blooming of something absolute—patterns woven through every part of the body, using the mage’s will as a guide, wrapping the soul in roots of light.

Lily had felt mana coursing through her body many times before, strengthening her and allowing her to cast spells.

Selene had taught her once: Spells were the physical manifestation of mana—channeling its limitless potential into a single, defined result.

But this… was different.

Sylvan wasn’t simply shaping her mana into patterns that could manifest magic.

She wasn’t forcing her will onto mana to impose order.

It was a conversation.

A conversation with the world itself.

Sylvan had asked the world for permission to move it in her place—

And the universe bowed its head in acceptance.

The majestic ebony staff spun between her fingers, emitting colors so ethereal they painted the air in near-celestial hues.

And then—

Came silence.

Not the absence of sound, but the great suspension of all things.

As if reality itself held its breath so that one moment could become eternal.

Though Lily was merely a spectator within the woman’s body, every nerve within her pulsed with the ecstasy of the magic she was witnessing.

And now, she was certain of something—something Nox had told her long ago:

True Magic.

This was without a doubt the path that led to its beginning.

“Speaking of which,” Sylvan said, her voice suddenly casual, “since I have a rare and perfect chance to give a proper lecture, I should start from the beginning.”

A satisfied smile spread across her lips as she skipped lightly over the floating island.

“Did you know, Nox? Fairies are curious creatures. They hold an absolute ideal—a deep, insatiable desire intrinsically tied to their very being. And when they finally envision that ideal clearly, and become it, only then do they gain a physical form and can wield their powers freely.”

She brought both hands to her chest, clutching her staff tightly over her heart.

“However, those same fairies are incapable of externalizing that purpose.”

“Incapable?” Nox echoed her word.

“Exactly. A fairy cannot draw out her full potential on her own. That’s why contracts were born. Isn’t it beautiful? When a fairy forms a contract with someone, that person can use their mana to extract the fairy’s purpose—revealing her true form.”

Sylvan leaned forward slightly, watching as Nox listened intently.

“And now we get to the fun part. Unlike other living beings made of flesh and organs, fairies are likely the creatures with the highest concentration of mana in their very bodies.”

“Wouldn’t that be the same as monsters and dark mana?” Nox asked.

A wide smile formed across her face at his sharp observation.

“Excellent! You’re so good at picking up on those details, Nox!” She restrained herself from hopping in place, forcing her focus back on track. “Even though their origins are different, the threshold that separates fairies from monsters is a frighteningly thin line. So thin and fragile that even a single irregularity could shatter it.”

She clenched her fist tightly, as if crushing that line with sheer pressure—

And even though nothing was there, it felt as though the very air cracked beneath her fingers.

“Even though using a mana-conducting object to cast spells might make them dozens of times more powerful, with proper training, you can grow and cast even stronger magic on your own. No object can surpass the living body of a being.”

Sylvan stared at Nox, shaking her head several times as if needing to correct a misunderstanding, then resumed speaking with an animated tone.

“Of course, it’s not like we can just use someone else as a mana conductor—that would be insane. Not only would the body almost certainly reject foreign mana, but depending on the difference in strength, if the person tried to take the full burden of a spell for someone else, they’d simply die… and it would be a horrible death. Even weapons can explode if too much mana is imbued into them.”

Turning away again, Sylvan walked a few steps, the staff on her back pulsing faintly with light.

“But now imagine—what if we were talking about beings made almost entirely of mana?”

The ground rumbled as the great wooden man rose to his feet, unable to stay seated at the realization beginning to dawn on him.

“When a contract is formed, a bond is created between the contractor and the contracted. This allows mana to circulate through the fairy’s body. Simply put, you’d be using a living being to amplify your spell.”

Sylvan’s words stirred even Lily—an involuntary sense of unease, like adrenaline flooding her mind. Her heart raced.

“It sounds incredible, doesn’t it?” Sylvan continued. “But unfortunately, it’s not as versatile as it seems.”

She extended one hand toward the colorful orbs dancing gleefully in the sky above the floor of the floating island.

“Fairies have pacifist desires—happiness, freedom, prosperity. These ideals are usually what shape their very existence. None of them wish for violence or combat. Whether it’s a hoe for tilling fields or glasses to help someone see, no fairy is born with the purpose of killing. So no matter how much mana you pour in, or how hard you try to force it—if both sides don’t agree, no spell can be cast.”

Then she turned, pulling a wide-brimmed hat from her back and setting it upon her head. Her slender fingers traced along the rim, then pulled it down to shade her eyes.

“But now think with me—what if a fairy was born with a desire for destruction?”

“If that happened...”

Nox echoed her words, and a cold smile slowly crept across the mage’s lips.

“They would become the greatest weapon of all.”