"That's my Kivi. She seems to like you."

  The man's voice was calm—almost gentle—but it carried a quiet authority that made me straighten without realizing it.

  I pulled my hand back from the silver-blue fur, suddenly aware of what I was touching. "Ah—uh… is that so? I guess she… finds me interesting?"

  Smooth. Very smooth.

  A low chuckle escaped him. "Not many are allowed that close. She usually flattens anyone who approaches uninvited."

  I paused.

  Only then did the size of the beast fully register.

  Kivi was enormous—far larger than any creature I'd seen up close—but there was no wildness to her presence. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate. Legs like polished obsidian supported her massive frame with effortless grace, and her long tail curled lazily against the stone ground. When her moonstone eyes met mine, I didn't feel threatened.

  I felt assessed.

  Not like prey—but like something being measured.

  The man stepped closer. His posture was relaxed, unguarded even, yet the air around him seemed heavier somehow, as though the space itself acknowledged him. A pressure brushed against my skin—subtle, controlled. Stone wrapped in silk.

  "What's your name, young one?"

  "Aries."

  He gave a small nod, committing it to memory. "Aries," he repeated. "Tell me—do you know how a magical beast chooses its master?"

  I hesitated, scratching the back of my head. Under his gaze, every answer felt wrong before it even formed. "No… not really."

  A flicker of something passed through his emerald eyes as sunlight caught them—sharp, searching. It felt as though he wasn't looking at me, but through me.

  "It isn't obedience," he said, lowering himself beside Kivi. His hand moved through her mane, fingers brushing over a faint symbol woven into her fur. It pulsed softly beneath his touch. "And it isn't dominance."

  He paused, letting the silence stretch.

  "True arcane-bound beasts aren't broken with chains or commands. They answer something deeper."

  The word came next, spoken slowly.

  "Concordance."

  The air seemed to hum when he said it. Not loudly—just enough to notice. Kivi released a low, melodic breath, and for a moment the space around her shimmered, like heat rising off stone.

  "At its core," he continued, "Concordance is resonance. Between instinct and mana. Between what a beast is—and what a mage carries within."

  He looked at me again.

  "When a creature recognizes itself in your mana, it responds. Not because it's forced to…" A faint smile touched his lips. "…but because it chooses to."

  I stood there, unmoving. The way he spoke made it feel less like an explanation and more like a truth being uncovered layer by layer.

  "Every beast moves to a rhythm," he said. "An elemental pulse. If your mana clashes with it, the bond fails. Fear drives them away. Deception repels them."

  His gaze sharpened.

  "But clarity…" He let the word linger. "…draws them in."

  Kivi leaned into him then, her massive head resting briefly against his shoulder. A quiet hum vibrated from her chest—steady, content.

  “And do you know why?” he asked.

  I hesitated. The answer felt close, but not fully mine. “Because… if it chooses you, the connection is real?”

  He regarded me for a moment, then nodded. “More than real. It becomes unbreakable.” His voice remained steady, but the words carried weight. “Your survival becomes its purpose. And yours…” A brief pause. “…becomes its instinct.”

  Before I could find a response, a familiar voice cut across the square.

  “Aries! Where did you disappear to this time?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I turned.

  Althea stood a short distance away, one hand lifted to block the sun. Her impatience was there, faint but unmistakable—tempered by concern.

  “We’re leaving you behind if you keep lagging!”

  Mirielle was already ahead of her, walking without a glance back. Clearly, she had no intention of waiting.

  “Coming!” I called, then looked back at the man. “Sorry, old man. I have to go. It was… nice meeting you.” I hesitated. “I hope we meet again.”

  He straightened, tall and unhurried. “If the wind favors it,” he said, “we will.”

  I gave a small, awkward bow—one that felt instinctive, though I didn’t remember learning it—and jogged off to catch up.

  ____________________________________________________________________

  The road beyond the town unfurled like a ribbon through green.

  Trees towered on either side, their branches leaning inward, leaves whispering as the wind passed through them. No houses. No stalls. Just forest—dense, quiet, watchful. Shadows shifted lazily across the dirt path as sunlight filtered through the canopy.

  We traveled in a modest carriage, its wheels creaking in a steady rhythm beneath us. Drelan and Althea sat across from me, speaking in low voices, laughter slipping between their words. Whatever the joke was, I’d missed it.

  Mirielle leaned against the open window, one arm resting on the frame. Her gaze drifted somewhere beyond the trees, listening just enough to not seem rude.

  I watched the canopy slide past overhead, thoughts slowly unraveling.

  Does this world even have schools?

  Magic academies? Training halls? Anything?

  I reached inward, sifting through Aries’s memories for answers. Nothing clear surfaced—only fractured images. Half-formed spells. Missed lessons. Avoided practice.

  I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

  “Tch… seriously. Doesn’t even know his own world,” I muttered under my breath. “What a waste of a body…”

  “Hm?”

  Althea turned toward me, concern softening her expression. “Is something the matter, Aries?”

  Drelan paused as well, his attention shifting to me.

  I forced a smile and shook my head. “No. It’s nothing, Mother.”

  Mirielle glanced at me sideways. Her eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing—but she said nothing.

  Then—

  CRRREEETCH—!!

  The carriage lurched violently, pitching us forward.

  “What in the—?” Drelan braced himself, then turned sharply toward the front. “Why did you stop?”

  The driver’s voice came trembling from outside.

  “S-sir… look ahead.”

  Drelan stood and peered past the carriage’s frame.

  His expression hardened.

  Cold. Focused.

  “…Damn it,” he muttered. “Dranox.”

  The word sent a ripple through me.

  Memories—not mine—surged forward, flooding my mind.

  Dranox.

  Creatures warped by corrupted mana. Born in the deepest shadows, twisted beyond recognition. They hunted in packs—unstable, feral, relentless. Ranked from F to A by threat level. And they weren’t animals or beasts. They were monsters.

  Drelan was already moving.

  He leapt down from the carriage in a single blur of motion, sword in his hand before his boots hit the ground. Mirielle followed a heartbeat later, her gaze fixed forward, blade catching the fractured light filtering through the trees.

  Althea pulled me in close, arms wrapping around my shoulders, turning my body so I couldn’t see past her—

  But it was already too late.

  Shapes slipped out from between the trunks ahead.

  Slouched silhouettes. Matted dark fur clinging to twisted frames. Cracked horns jutting at uneven angles. Eyes—dull yellow—glimmering through the thin mist as they locked onto us.

  Dranox.

  Drelan’s eyes flicked across the treeline, sharp and calculating. His breathing never faltered.

  “Movement. Scent. Spacing,” he muttered. “E-rank. Six, maybe fewer.”

  He tightened his grip.

  “We can handle it.”

  The words weren’t bravado. They were certainty.

  Mirielle’s lips curled into a grin as she rolled her shoulder, blade rising into position.

  “Right behind you, Dad.”

  They moved together—father and daughter—vanishing into the trees.

  Steel sang.

  Drelan’s sword tore through the first Dranox, cleaving its twisted body apart in a spray of blackened blood. The creature barely had time to snarl before collapsing into the dirt, limbs folding at the wrong angles.

  Mirielle was a storm beside him.

  She spun through the clearing, her blade carving clean arcs through the air, mana humming faintly along its edge. A Dranox lunged from behind, claws flashing—but she dropped low, slid beneath the strike, and drove her sword upward through its chest without slowing.

  The body crumpled behind her. The fight was fast. Brutal. And it didn’t stop.

  “These things—!” Drelan grunted as he parried a swipe that skimmed past his face. “They just keep coming!”

  He stepped back a half pace, breath heavy now. Dark blood streaked his sleeve—not his, but close enough to make my stomach tighten.

  Then—

  A snarl. Too close. Too fast.

  A Dranox burst from the shadows behind him, claws stretched wide as it leapt for his unguarded back.

  “Father!”

  “Dear—behind you!”

  Our voices overlapped, sharp with panic.

  Drelan turned, eyes widening.

  “Oh—!”

  CRACK—SHLNK!

  Steel flashed.

  The creature was cut clean in half mid-leap, its body hitting the ground in two lifeless pieces. Mirielle landed hard behind him, knees bent, blade raised. Sweat traced down her temple as her chest rose and fell.

  “I’ve got your back, Dad,” she said with a grin that looked a little strained. “Still plenty of arcane energy left.”

  Drelan let out a breathless laugh. “That’s my girl.”

  Behind them, I stood frozen near the carriage.

  Not afraid. Staring.

  Watching how their mana flowed into their blades—how each strike carried more weight than steel alone should have been able to manage. Every movement was precise. Controlled. Deadly.

  Althea’s arms tightened around me. She smiled softly, leaning closer.

  “Don’t be afraid, Aries,” she whispered. “Your father and sister… they’re strong. They’ll protect us.”

  I nodded.

  But fear wasn’t what stirred in my chest.

  It was something else. Restlessness.

  Back in the clearing—

  “Huff…” Drelan muttered, swinging again. “How many is that now? Feels like we’ve cut down twenty—”

  “I know,” Mirielle said, slicing through another Dranox. “There weren’t this many when they showed up—”

  She stopped mid-sentence.

  So did he.

  A sound crept through the forest. Low. Crawling. Wrong.

  The air shifted—colder, heavier. The wind died. Even the leaves fell silent.

  Then they emerged. Dozens of shapes bled out of the mist.

  Eyes glowing yellow in the dark. Fangs catching faint light. Claws scraping against stone and root as they advanced.

  Not a few stragglers.

  An entire pack.

  Mirielle took a step back, her grip tightening.

  “…That wasn’t all of them.”

  Drelan’s jaw set, lips pressing into a hard line.

  “Damn it,” he said quietly. “This was a trap.”