Magic grasshoppers were creatures Emma had often read about in the books that lined her library shelves. According to the pages of lore, they were unlike their ordinary counterparts.

They were significantly larger, with shimmering green bodies resembling raw emeralds.

They possessed unparalleled agility, vanishing in an instant with a faint burst of light.

Most importantly, they wielded teleportation magic, making them nearly impossible to catch.

Now, standing in the garden, Emma was face-to-face with one of these extraordinary creatures. Its antennae twitched rhythmically, as though sensing danger, and its iridescent wings glistened faintly in the morning sun.

Emma crouched low, her silver-white hair falling across her face as her white eyes focused intently on the creature. She moved slowly, silently, a predator stalking her prey. Her heart raced as she inched closer, her hands ready to snatch it in a single, decisive motion.

Bong!

In the blink of an eye, the grasshopper vanished, leaving behind a faint green trail of light. Emma froze, blinking at the empty space where it had just been. It had teleported several feet away, now perched on another crop.

Her lips pressed into a determined line. She wasn’t about to give up.

Again, she crept closer, adjusting her stance with the precision of a seasoned hunter.

Bong!

The grasshopper teleported once more, teasing her with its effortless movements.

And so the pursuit began.

Each time Emma closed the distance, the grasshopper would leap into the air, teleporting just out of her reach. Green trails of light filled the garden, a visual testament to her repeated failures.

On the sixty-second attempt, Emma collapsed onto the soft grass, utterly exhausted. Her arms and legs sprawled out, she stared up at the sky, her chest heaving with labored breaths. The grasshopper, as if mocking her, teleported one final time, vanishing beyond the garden and out of sight.

A sigh escaped her lips as she sat up, brushing strands of silver hair away from her flushed face. So much for that idea.

She glanced around the garden, searching for an alternative offering for the festival, but nothing seemed quite as unique. Deciding to explore further, she rose to her feet and left the garden, following a cleared path that meandered through the surrounding greenery.

The sounds of chirping birds filled the air, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves swaying in the cool morning breeze. Butterflies flitted gracefully among the wildflowers growing at the edges of the path, their colorful wings catching the sunlight.

As Emma reached the edge of her family’s compound, she paused. Her gaze wandered to the neighboring houses, the distant tree lines, and the quiet streets of Windfield. The world beyond felt vast and unfamiliar.

Taking a hesitant step forward, she walked a short distance down the path before quickly retreating. She repeated the motion—venturing out, then returning to the safety of the fence—four times.

Frustration bubbled within her. What am I doing? Am I scared?

She shook her head, chastising herself. "I can’t let fear control me," she murmured, though the words felt hollow. Her title—former Lord of Frostfall Tower—came to mind, but the memory only deepened her uncertainty. What strength was there in clinging to the past?

Steeling herself, she turned back toward her compound, intent on regaining her composure.

CRASH!

The sharp sound of splintering wood and clattering wheels echoed through the air. Emma froze mid-step, her ears straining to pinpoint the source of the commotion. It had come from the road beyond the fence.

Her heart quickened as curiosity and concern flared within her. Turning back toward the sound, she hesitated for only a moment before moving cautiously in its direction.

The path opened up to reveal...