Elias sat across from Aysse in a sleek, minimalist room, its polished surfaces catching the soft glow of the ceiling lights. Although the space exuded calm, Aysse’s mind was anything but. *Lost memories. A fusion with an unknown entity. A world governed by forces he barely understood.* The weight of his recent experiences pressed on him relentlessly.

  Elias, meanwhile, radiated effortless confidence. His sharp, golden eyes swept over Aysse with quiet amusement. With an athletic build and a posture that balanced relaxation and readiness, he seemed ever-prepared for action. Dark, wavy hair framed his face—accentuating high cheekbones and a strong jawline—while a faint scar along his brow spoke silently of past battles. Beneath his pristine doctor's white coat, he wore a sleek, functional outfit that was dark, fitted, and subtly reinforced. Every movement he made was deliberate, controlled, as if he understood the weight of his presence in any room. Though his expression carried a hint of mischief, his aura spoke of experience, of someone who had seen much and knew more than he let on.

  Leaning back with arms crossed, Elias broke the silence.

  “Alright, let’s start with the basics. You understand that you’ve fused with a Faery, correct?”

  Aysse hesitated before nodding uncertainly. “I… think so. But I don’t really know what that means,” he admitted, the uncertainty in his voice mirroring the turmoil within.

  Elias smirked and tapped the side of his head—where his own tentacle-like Faery appendage rested.

  “Faery are intelligent, natural creatures that can fuse with almost anything to improve their survival. They’re not parasites; they give back. They form symbiotic relationships—just like the one you have now.”

  Aysse’s gaze drifted to his own unfamiliar appendage. “So, they just attach themselves to things?” He wondered aloud.

  “More than that,” Elias replied with a shake of his head. “Some say the first Faery was an authentic god—a supreme being that merged with the world itself. Whether that's true or not, what we do know is that new Faery can spawn out of thin air. It's not rare, but when it happens, it's treated as a sacred event."

  A frown creased Aysse’s face. “So, they just appear?”

  “Exactly,” Elias said. “And once they do, they get a choice—to live on their own or to fuse with a host. Most choose to bond. Humans, animals, even inanimate objects—if it benefits them, Faery will connect.”

  Aysse mulled this over. “And what do they gain from fusing with humans?”

  "That’s the best part," Elias said, a knowing grin playing on his lips. "On their own, Faery are smart, but nowhere near human intelligence. When they bond with a host, they gain structure. A human gives them intelligence and reasoning, a beast grants them raw strength, a tree lets them generate Faeriar naturally, and even something as simple as a rock makes them nearly indestructible. Alone, they can still fight, but they’re mostly vulnerable. Bonded, they evolve—sharper, stronger, more capable. And with a human, they don’t just survive; they learn."

  Aysse’s mind briefly flashed to the concept of Faeriar. “Faeriar…” he murmured, then added, “That’s the energy you mentioned earlier?”

  “Correct,” Elias confirmed. “Think of Faeriar as the fuel powering everything. Every object, every creature—everything contains it. It can be extracted, absorbed, or exchanged... And it also is Eurory's main currency.”

  Raising a hand, Elias let his Faery tentacle extend slightly. “Faery have three core abilities. First is Consumption & Faeriar Absorption—they eat, break down, and extract energy from almost anything. The more direct the consumption, the better the efficiency.”

  Aysse tensed as he watched the tentacle curl gracefully in the air. “And the second?”

  “The second is Matter Production. By expending Faeriar, a Faery can generate solid material—whether it’s weapons, armor, tools or even constructs. Your Faery is still weak, but with enough Faeriar, you could create just about anything.”

  Aysse flexed his fingers, trying to use the Faeriar he had just received from Dr. Vahr. A faint, very brittle geode-like crystal formed at his fingertips before dispersing into fine powder. After a brief pause, Elias chuckled. “Don’t worry, it takes practice.” With a smooth gesture, he conjured a flawless, solid crystal, its surface gleaming. He placed it in Aysse’s palm.

  Aysse gripped the crystal, its cool weight grounding him. Compared to his failed attempt, it felt impossibly real.

  “And the third ability?” Aysse asked quietly.

  “Energy Production,” Elias explained. “They can generate fire, electricity, gravity fields—you name it. The more Faeriar you feed them, the stronger the output.”

  Aysse exhaled, a mix of awe and trepidation in his tone. “This sounds… insanely powerful.”

  “It is,” Elias agreed, though his tone then turned cautionary. “But there’s a catch. Faery regulate their intake through temperature. Absorb too much Faeriar and they become cold; use too much, and they overheat. Either extreme can shut them down completely.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Leaning forward, Aysse asked, “And if they shut down?”

  “You’d be as helpless as a newborn,” Elias replied, his expression turning serious. “That’s why managing Faeriar is crucial—too much, and you freeze; too little, and you burn out.”

  Aysse rubbed his temples. “So Faery have no storage limits, only usage limits?”

  “Exactly. That’s why an Operating System—an OS—is necessary. Your Faery has a Vindows OS, but it has a limited access to its main storage directly. It uses a separate, limited OS cache to manage Faeriar, like a budget you can’t overspend.”

  Clenching his fists, Aysse continued, “And humans? We need a Faery just to interact with Faeriar?”

  Elias met his gaze knowingly. “Correct. A human without a Faery might as well be blind to the system running this world.”

  Aysse let the information settle, but shortly after he asked, “And this fusion… is it permanent?”

  “Mostly,” Elias replied. “It can be removed with consent, though specialy programmed Faery exist that can override a fusion—usually for control or restraint.” His tone grew more solemn. “But let me be clear: Faery fusion isn’t a burden. It’s survival. Every human in Eurory has one. They’re given at birth, pre-programmed by a noble overseeing the region. Without one, you wouldn’t last a day.”

  Aysse’s mind raced as he absorbed the implications. This was his new reality. Faery weren’t merely tools—they were essential for survival. Now, he was to one.

  Elias continued, his voice steady. “Faeriar isn’t just energy—it’s the foundation of our entire economy. In times of crisis, temporary contribution systems might replace it, and some people trade directly for it. But ultimately, Faeriar fuels everything: our infrastructure, warfare, daily necessities. Every transaction and power structure in Eurory revolves around it. Nobles hoard vast reserves, cities regulate its flow, and those who run out are left powerless—sometimes quite literally. The controlled distribution of Faeriar shapes our social hierarchy: those with plenty wield influence, while those without are at the mercy of those who do. It’s the structure that keeps the world running.”

  Aysse shifted in his seat, the enormity of it all settling over him. “I see. Isn’t there any alternative, like magic or technology?”

  Elias shook his head. “Not unless you want to meet the Faery Curse firsthand. Any attempt to replace Faeriar with an external energy source ends the same way—disaster. The Curse is absolute. It doesn’t just punish—it erases. Entire civilizations that tried to bypass it are now nothing more than ruins.”

  Aysse furrowed his brow. “The Faery Curse… Is that some kind of divine punishment?”

  Leaning forward, his golden eyes gleaming, Elias replied, “That’s one way to see it. Any attempt to harness energy not derived from Faery triggers the Curse. A portal opens, and creatures spill forth—relentlessly, ever-growing in number and strength. The only way to stop them is to destroy whatever caused the Curse in the first place.”

  Aysse swallowed hard. “Has anyone ever managed to control it?”

  Elias let out a short laugh edged with dark irony. “Control it? No. Weaponize it? That’s a different story. Some powerful nobles—especially royals—can use the Curse strategically, unleashing it in enemy territory. But it’s always a gamble. Left unchecked, it drains all Faeriar from its surroundings, making it impossible to replenish reserves for anyone under it's range.”

  Aysse felt a chill creep up his spine. His mind raced, trying to piece together everything he had learned. The world outside was more structured—and more dangerous—than he had imagined. Every aspect of life was tied to Faeriar, from survival to power, from the nobility's control to the common person's dependence. There was no escaping it; this was the foundation of society.

  He thought about the Curse—a force so powerful it had destroyed entire civilizations. The idea of separating from his Faery and using the magic from his original world crossed his mind, but it was clearly a no go. Trying would be nothing short of suicide. The same went for his knowledge of modern technology—it wasn't just useless here, it was dangerous.

  Aysse clenched his fists. He wasn't sure how he fit into this world yet. He wasn't just some bystander—he had fused with a Faery, inherited abilities he barely understood, and now he was expected to play a role in a system that felt both awe-inspiring and oppressive. If power determined one's place in society, then what did that make him? A pawn? A potential threat? He knew he came to this world with a mission; he had only temporarily forgotten it because of the memory superposition from the fusion with the Faery.

  He exhaled slowly, grounding himself. If nothing else, he needed to understand more before making any decisions.

  Elias leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his golden eyes gleaming with certainty.

  Leaning forward, elbows on his knees and his golden eyes bright with certainty, Elias stated, “If you want to survive here, you need knowledge, skill, and total control over your Faery. And the best place to learn that is Velstein Academy.”

  Aysse raised an eyebrow. “Velstein Academy?”

  “Exactly,” Elias confirmed. “They’re the leading experts in Faery programming. Their academy holds some of the most advanced scripts and programs known to mankind. If you want to master your abilities and truly understand this world, that’s where you need to be.”

  Aysse considered the proposition. The idea of going to school came in as a bit of a surprise to him. But this was different—not just about education, but about survival. “What exactly do they teach there?”

  Elias smirked. “Everything you need to become a fully functional Faery user—combat techniques, energy manipulation, Faeriar efficiency, scripting…” He paused, then added, “And most importantly, they teach you how our society really works.”

  Aysse narrowed his eyes. “The way society works? You mean the hierarchy?”

  “Exactly.” Elias leaned back with a satisfied smile. “Velstein Academy doesn’t just show you how to wield power—they show you how to navigate it. And trust me, that’s just as important.”

  Aysse tapped his fingers against the armrest. It made sense. If everything in this world revolved around Faery and Faeriar, then understanding their intricacies was the only way to carve a path forward. Yet something about it still made him uneasy.

  Dr. Vahr had come personally—though he vanished as swiftly as he arrived—making it clear to Aysse that, to some extent, both Dr. Vahr and Elias, both Nobles of House Veridan were tied to his presence in this world. Whether as guides or overseers, they were the closest thing to allies he had. For now, he would trust them. Dr. Vahr’s quick departure, however, suggested he had no intention of drawing attention to their connection—perhaps to avoid suspicion, or perhaps for reasons Aysse had yet to understand.

  "What about Velstein Academy, or should I say House Velstein, Do you trust them?"

  Elias chuckled softly. “Trust them? No. But I respect what they offer. Knowledge is power, and House Velstein holds more of it than anyone else. Whether you choose to trust them is up to you—but in Eurory, you can’t afford to ignore them.”

  Aysse exhaled slowly. Another step forward. Another unknown. But if he wanted to understand this world—if he wanted to regain control—then perhaps this academy was the key.

  And so, his path became clearer.

  He would go to Velstein Academy.