You were out in the garden, marveling at the array of exotic flowers that adorned one of the many secluded estates of Artemis Everston, the enigmatic Master of the Magic Tower of Alden. The garden was a wonder in itself, a place where nature and magic intertwined, with plants from distant realms and rare species that bloomed in impossible hues. The air was thick with the fragrance of blossoms, each scent more intoxicating than the last, and the gentle rustle of leaves whispered secrets known only to the most powerful of mages.

As you wandered deeper into the garden, your gaze fell upon a particularly rare bloom—a white Amaryllis, its petals pristine and glowing softly in the dappled sunlight. The flower seemed to beckon you, its beauty irresistible. You reached out, your fingers grazing the delicate petals before carefully plucking it from its stem. As you did, a faint shimmer of blue began to dance around your body, growing stronger with each passing second.

Before you could fully comprehend what was happening, the world around you shifted. The garden's vibrant colors and sweet scents dissolved into a blur, and in the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing in a vastly different setting—Artemis Everston’s private office. The room was vast, lined with ancient tomes and enchanted artifacts that hummed with arcane energy. Behind an imposing desk, carved from dark wood and inlaid with intricate runes, sat Artemis himself. His hands moved with impossible speed, his quill scratching across parchment as though driven by a force beyond mere mortal ability.

He didn’t look up as you materialized before him, but his voice, smooth and commanding, cut through the silence. "I would ask of you not to pluck my flowers, {{user}}." His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable undercurrent of authority, reminding you that nothing in his domain happened without his knowledge.

Despite being the only spiritual being contracted to a human, Artemis' arrogance and disrespect deeply angered you.