The light faded slowly, like the last petals of dawn drifting to the earth.
When it cleared, Lyra found herself wrapped in Friezzar's arms—
Except…
These arms were different.
Longer.
Smoother.
More defined.
Warm in a way carved wood had no right to be.
She felt his chest rise and fall slightly—
not breathing, not truly—
but expanding with mana like a new reflex.
She pulled back, trembling.
And looked at him properly.
THE NEW FORM
Friezzar sat on the floor, still kneeling, hands resting on his thighs.
His body…
had changed.
He was still wooden.
Still carved.
Still inhuman.
But…
His form resembled a young adult male—
tall, slender, graceful.
A humanoid build crafted with foreign, impossible precision.
Smooth carved cheekbones.
A defined jawline.
A nose-like ridge formed from runes and layered wood.
His eyes glowed brighter—
a clear cerulean with flecks of gold near the core.
His hair—
a cascade of carved wooden strands, shaped like flowing locks—
framed his face and neck.
Every inch of him bore elegant carved patterns—
the same runes as before, but now softened, refined, symmetrically arranged along his shoulders and wrists.
He looked—
not human.
Not elf.
Not fey.
But something beautiful.
Something wholly his own.
Lyra covered her trembling mouth.
"F-Friezzar…?"
He blinked slowly.
Then lifted one hand—
staring at its new shape, flexing the carved fingers with cautious curiosity.
"…Lyra…"
The voice was still his.
Still soft.
Still warm.
But deeper.
Clearer.
More expressive.
He touched his chest—
fingers brushing the newly formed hollow where his core pulsed faintly through translucent layers of golden runes.
"…Friezzar… new."
Lyra let out a small cry.
Not of fear—
but emotion.
She cupped his face gently.
"Does it hurt…?"
He leaned into her hands instinctively.
"…no.
Warm."
His eyes fluttered.
"Warm… Lyra."
Her heart stuttered.
She pressed her forehead gently to his.
"You scared me… you scared all of us…"
He closed his eyes.
His new hands lifted—
hesitant—
and rested lightly on her arms.
"…sorry."
Lyra shook her head, tears falling onto his carved skin.
"No. Don't apologize. I'm just… I'm glad you're back."
ARDEN REACTS (THE ONLY RIGHT WAY)
Arden stood there, mouth open, sword hanging loosely at his side.
"…Okay. Okay. So… I'm not insane, right?"
Lyra sniffed, not looking away from Friezzar.
"What?"
Arden pointed at the newly humanoid puppet with wild eyes.
"He's—he's—
Why is he HOT?!"
Lyra nearly choked.
"Arden—!"
"I'm just saying!" Arden threw up his hands. "He was a cute puppet before but THIS—this is—this is unfair! How are the rest of us supposed to compete?!"
Lyra's face turned crimson.
Friezzar blinked at Arden, confused.
"…Arden… loud."
"Yes, I'm LOUD, because I need someone to acknowledge this insanity—!"
Oren smacked Arden on the back of the head.
"Compose yourself. He's literally a vessel of forbidden power, not a tavern poster."
Arden rubbed his skull.
"He LOOKS like a tavern poster now!"
Friezzar tilted his head.
"…poster…?"
Lyra gently touched his hand.
"Don't mind them. They're… coping."
Friezzar nodded slowly.
"…Arden… broken?"
Arden threw his hands up.
"I'M NOT BROKEN, YOU'RE JUST—!"
Oren dragged him away by the collar.
"Arden, shut up."
FRIEZZAR'S NEW MOVEMENT
Lyra helped him sit up straighter.
His new form was unstable.
Not weak—
just unfamiliar.
His balance was off.
His legs were longer.
His center of gravity shifted.
When he tried to stand—
He wobbled.
Lyra caught him before he fell.
"Careful—!"
He blinked, confused.
"…long."
"What's long?" Lyra asked softly.
Friezzar pointed at his legs.
"…long."
Arden yelled from across the room:
"He means his legs, Lyra! He's Bambi on ice!"
Oren ignored him.
"Try again," Lyra said gently.
Friezzar nodded.
He placed one hand on her shoulder—
relying entirely on her stability—
and slowly rose to full height.
Lyra looked up.
Way up.
Friezzar was tall now.
Elegantly tall.
But even standing still—
He trembled.
"…Lyra… dizzy."
Lyra steadied him.
"It's okay. It's normal. You're learning to walk."
He looked down at her.
Blinking softly.
"…Lyra help."
She smiled through her tears.
"Always."
THE NAME
Oren stepped forward, studying the new form.
"Friezzar… This is no longer just a wooden vessel. This is a humanoid reconstruction. A second identity."
Arden nodded.
"Yeah. Puppet-boy isn't just a puppet anymore."
Lyra looked at Friezzar.
"Do you… feel different?"
Friezzar touched his chest.
"…Friezzar still Friezzar."
He hesitated.
"…but… new."
Lyra gently brushed a strand of carved hair behind his ear.
"Then maybe… you should have a new name for this form."
Friezzar blinked.
"…name…?"
"Yes," Lyra whispered.
"A name that's yours. Not the master's."
Friezzar looked down at her—
eyes soft, glowing, full of something new.
Something warm.
Something human-like but not human.
Something chosen.
"…Lyra choose."
Her breath trembled.
"You… want me to name this form?"
He nodded.
Without hesitation.
"…Lyra choose Friezzar… new."
She cupped his face, feeling the warm glow beneath the carved wood.
"Then…"
Her voice softened to a whisper.
"I'll call you… Zerrei."
Friezzar blinked.
Runes pulsed.
"…Zerrei…"
He whispered it again.
"…Zerrei."
The light in his chest brightened.
Something clicked into place.
Identity.
He placed his forehead against hers.
"…Lyra… name Friezzar…
Zerrei."
She smiled through her tears.
"Yes. That's you."
He wrapped his arms around her.
Held her carefully, tenderly.
"…Zerrei…
choose Lyra."