Part I: "Of Blades and Bonds"
Four Years Later…
Deyrun was still quiet. Still simple.
But things had changed in the Ardyn household.
For one, Kael had learned how to run. Which meant half the village had learned how to chase him.
"KAEL ARDYN! GET BACK HERE WITH MY BROOM!"
An old woman's voice echoed down the dirt road as a small black-haired blur zipped past vegetable stalls, hugging a stolen broom like a holy relic.
Kael grinned wildly. "It's not stealing if it's training!"
A thump behind him. A potato flew past his head.
"Then train your manners!"
From a nearby rooftop, his older sister Lyra waved like a proud general.
"You've got five seconds until she calls Mom!"
Kael glanced back.
"That's three seconds more than last time!"
Later That Evening…
Zevran sat cross-legged under the tree behind their home, eyes closed, one blade resting across his lap. Kael sat across from him, mirroring the pose… badly.
His back was crooked. His shoulders stiff. And he kept scratching his ear.
"Still," Zevran said without opening his eyes, "you're better than I was at your age."
Kael blinked. "Really?"
Zevran opened one eye, smirking slightly. "No."
Kael groaned. "Figures."
"Focus, Kael. Stillness first. Sword later."
"But I want the fire part!"
"You don't earn fire by asking nicely. You earn it by understanding stillness."
Kael squinted. "So… if I sit here really still for the next ten years, you'll teach me to explode things?"
"If you sit still for ten years, I'll build a statue of you with glowing eyes and a broom in its hand."
Kael beamed. "Deal!"
In the Forest Outskirts…
Later that night, Kael snuck out. Again.
He wasn't trying to cause trouble. Not really.
It's just that the trees whispered sometimes. Not with words. Just… feelings. Warmth. Movement. Echoes.
He wandered deeper into the glade. Leaves rustled above. A gentle hum stirred in the air — familiar.
"There you are."
Kael froze.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
It wasn't a voice. It was something else — something older, quieter, more instinctual. It moved beneath his skin like heat in the blood.
From the edge of the clearing, glowing orange eyes blinked open.
A wolf — large, sleek, with fur the color of smoke and fire — stepped silently into view.
Kael didn't run. Couldn't.
The wolf didn't growl. Didn't bare teeth. It just stared… then sat.
"Soon."
Kael didn't hear that word in his ears. He felt it in his bones.
Then, like smoke, the wolf vanished.
Meanwhile…
Zevran stood alone on the rooftop of the house, staring out into the forest.
"So it begins…"
Seris joined him, arms folded.
"Did you know it would be a wolf?"
"No," Zevran muttered. "But it makes sense. Fire doesn't always roar. Sometimes, it hunts."
Part II: "The Hunter's Path"
The Village Schoolhouse…
"Okay, class," Instructor Pell said, adjusting his cracked spectacles, "today's lesson is about beast classifications. Who can tell me the three major ranks of bonded beasts?"
Hands shot up. One kid answered, "Common, Noble, and Ancient!"
"Correct!" Pell nodded. "Most people never form a bond above Common. Now—"
"My baby brother's gonna bond with an ancient flaming thunder wolf and a golden sky dragon."
The class paused.
All eyes turned to Lyra Ardyn, who leaned back in her chair like she was narrating scripture. Her feet were on the table. Her hands were clasped behind her head.
"He doesn't cry. Doesn't blink. And he eats soup with fire. Literal fire."
Instructor Pell blinked. "…That's biologically concerning."
Lyra waved it off. "My dad says his energy's different. Mom says he sleeps like a volcano. I say he's a walking secret weapon."
"…You say a lot."
"Exactly."
Back at Home…
Kael sat on a stone, trying to meditate again.
Failing.
Again.
He wasn't still. He wasn't focused. And he was starting to itch again.
"Still your mind."
Zevran's voice floated over.
Kael groaned. "Dad, what if I'm not good at stillness?"
Zevran didn't respond with words. Instead, he unsheathed a blunt wooden training blade and tossed it toward Kael.
"Then learn through motion."
Kael caught it — barely. It was light, but perfectly balanced.
His eyes widened. "Is this real?"
"It's wood."
"I mean… real training?"
"Unless you'd rather keep stealing brooms."
Kael stood slowly. "What do I do?"
Zevran took a few steps forward. Then stopped, eyes half-lidded, relaxed.
"Come at me."
Five Minutes Later…
Kael lay in the grass, groaning. "That was unfair."
"I let you hit me once."
"You blocked it with your eyelid!"
Zevran shrugged. "Still counts."
Kael grumbled and rolled over. His hands were dirty. His face scraped. His ego? Pulverized.
But he was smiling.
"I'm gonna get stronger."
Zevran's eyes, hidden under shadow, glinted for just a moment.
"I know."
That Night…
The wind whispered through the trees again.
Kael sat near the fireplace, half-awake, staring into the flames.
He didn't know why, but the fire tonight… moved differently. Like it was alive.
It pulsed with the rhythm of a heartbeat.
His.
In the embers, for the briefest second — he saw eyes. Orange. Familiar.
"We are not ready yet."
The words didn't frighten him.
They calmed him.
He nodded once.
The fire settled.
Elsewhere…
Far in the misty northern isles, among cliffs older than memory, a dragon stirred.
It did not fly.
It did not roar.
It watched.
And waited.