The place was neither sky nor ground. It was the silence between moments, the breath between stars. A pale horizon stretched into forever, waiting to be claimed. Nothing moved until a single silver spark cut the void.
The Wolf arrived first.
His paws touched the unseen floor with the weight of authority, and the horizon bowed inward. His fur shimmered with the glow of ancient moons, and his eyes carried the calm certainty of one who had survived eras long before language. The air trembled as he lifted his head.
Only then did the others dare to appear.
The Bear formed from mountain shadows, bowing his head the smallest fraction before meeting the Wolf’s gaze. The Eagle descended next, wings folded tight in a gesture of reluctant respect. A coil of darkness gathered and birthed the Serpent, its tongue tasting the air with wary submission. Last came the Stag, antlers glowing like a dawn that dared not break without permission.
None spoke while the Wolf stood silent. Even the horizon waited for him. At last, Silver stepped forward. “The council is called.”
A ripple of fear moved through the gathering. Gods of the wild did not summon one another. They fought, they watched, they endured, but councils belonged to pantheons of order and flame. Yet the gods came upon Silvers call.
The Bear’s voice rumbled like shifting stone. “It has been ages since we last gathered. The summons carried your mark, Silver. Why have you pulled us from our dominions?”
Silver’s gaze swept upon them, even the Eagle lowered his eyes for a breath. “You would not have come otherwise.”
The Serpent hissed softly, not in anger but unease. “True enough. You are the only one we heed without challenge. Speak, Alpha.” The title carried weight. None of them contested it.
Silver’s voice was steady. “The world turns. The humanoid pantheons grow in number and influence. Mortals build towers in their names, cities to shelter from our wilds. The balance leans toward stone and order.”
The Eagle’s tone sharpened. “We are not worshipped. We never asked to be. Why should this concern us?”
Because extinction concerns all,” Silver replied.
A quiet settled, heavy and old. The Stag stepped gently, hooves stirring light that was not light. “you fear our memory fading.”
“No,” Silver said. “I fear that lone beasts fade faster than packs.”
The Serpent coiled. “We are not a pack. We each have our own territory. So it has been since the beginning.”
“So it has,” Silver agreed. “And so we have dwindled while the gods of craft and war continue to rise. Their temples grow. Worship spreads. They share power, knowledge, and strength among themselves, while we only grow when we kill or when we endure. We have reached the limits of our solitude.”
The Eagle’s feathers rustled. “Speak plainly. What do you intend?”
Silver held every gaze at once. “I have chosen a mortal.”
Shock rippled through the council, though none dared raise their voice. The Bear was the first to respond. “A human carries your mark? This is no small act.”
“No small act indeed,” Silver answered.
The Serpent’s coils tightened. “Then say it. You seek to unify us. This is your way?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“I do”. Silver said.
The Eagle recoiled. “Blasphemy. We are dominions, Gods, not pieces to be idly traded. You risk the true destruction of beast kind for what? Power?”
Silver looked at the Eagle with something like pity. “Unity does not mean obedience. When did I ask you to kneel? I asked you simply to survive.”
The Stag spoke softly. “The human races will not ignore this. We are already relics to them. If we truly form a union, this could mean war.”
“They already think us lesser,” Silver replied. “They forget we were here well before they even existed. I refuse to let us fade.”
The Bear grunted. “Yet still, they have numbers and crafted power. Their flesh may be weak but they use weapons while we use tooth and claw, even us Gods are considered weaker.”
Silver did not deny it. He simply raised his head. “And thus, we evolve.”
The Serpent flicked its tongue, sensing the truth beneath the words. “You have already begun. You intend this mortal to be a champion. Of what though?”
“A mortal of hybrid birth. The first and only God of beast and man alike, it is already done.”
The Eagle’s voice sharpened further, wary. “What if he breaks? What if he rejects us? What if he turns feral from power like most two legs do?”
“Then he dies,” Silver replied. “A failed attempt teaches more than another eon of sitting idly by while those around us evolve.”
The council murmured with unease. No one challenged him. No one dared.
The Stag stepped closer. “You do not seek dominance then? You seek transformation?”
“I seek survival,” Silver said. “For all of us. In him, mind and fang can coexist. If he succeeds, beast kind can take its rightful place. We evolve”
“And if he fails,” the Eagle whispered, “the two legs will come for us.”
“Yes,” Silver said. “Let them, we will be ready.”
The Bear studied him. “You carry confidence as if it were certainty.”
Silver’s eyes shone faintly. “Confidence is the only thing that ever separated a lone wolf from the alpha.”
He paused. Something changed. The air thickened. The horizon trembled. Even the Stag’s antlers dimmed under the weight of his shifting mood. Silver took a step forward, and the void around him darkened.
“When,” he said softly. “did we become so fearful?” Silver’s voice grew sharper, each word cutting the silence. “When did we beasts become creatures that hide in caves while humankind raises empires in the sun? When did we trade the open sky for these shadows and small dominions? When did we begin to cower in our domains while mortals carve our bones into tools and our names into their myths?”
The Serpent hissed uneasily. “Mind your tone, Wolf.”
Silver ignored him.
“We were here first. We shaped the forests and oceans long before humanoids even learned what fire was. We hunted across creation before they learned to stand. We were the peak, the rulers of instinct. We once commanded respect, we were feared by even the earliest of Gods.”
His fur bristled, silver light flaring outward with raw power that made the horizon bend away from him. None of the gods stepped forward. None interrupted. “Look at us now.” Silver continued. “Scattered. Silent. Waiting for oblivion like prey huddled in the dark. While humanoids band together, build their pantheons, multiply, evolve and push us to the brink of extinction. Ever more beasts appear in integration and ever more they fall.”
He bared his teeth, not in threat but in accusation. “Tell me. When did you beasts begin to act as if you have already lost? When did we forget what it meant to hunt for a future, to evolve, instead of merely surviving in the present?”
The Bear lowered his head. The Eagle’s feathers lay flat. The Serpent stilled. The Stag closed his eyes. Silver’s fury only sharpened.
“We, who once ruled by right of claw and spirit, now cling to scraps. We watch humans become gods of cities and kingdoms. We watch demons rise and take our rightful place, vampires feast while you cower. We watch the elves override us in the forests that we once built and maintained. What happened to the balance? What happened to us beasts, we fade into folklore, as nothing but lesser beings. You ask why I choose a mortal, why I choose a human. Why I choose to evolve and fight?
He looked at each of them in turn.
“I choose this path because you have forgotten yours.” Silence followed. Not Respectful. Stunned.
Finally, the Serpent bowed her head. “Then write the first line of this new path. We will watch. We will judge. But we will not stop you.” The others gave reluctant nods, as their bodies faded into dust.
Silver stood alone at the centre of the fading realm, his presence illuminating the void. The air changed. Something older was watching. The horizon bent inward, not in fear, but in recognition. A weight brushed against the edges of reality, ancient and quiet. Silver lifted his head. “So you heard.”
There was no answer. Only attention. Only presence. Silver’s tone softened. “I wondered how long it would take you to stir. The beasts do not call councils without cause.”
A ripple moved through the void, a silent acknowledgement. “I am not the pup you once guided,” Silver said. “The world changes. Beasts must change with it. I will see to that.” Another ripple. Still silent. Still watching.
Silver’s voice grew calm. “I will not shame the lessons you gave.” The presence withdrew, leaving light where it had been. Silver remained a moment longer. With a final glance into the empty distance, he turned and stepped into the void. The realm vanished.
The world shifted. Kaizer exhaled. He sat cross-legged beneath the trees, moonlight resting on his shoulders, the fire before him reduced to glowing embers. His breathing had steadied, moving into a slow rhythm he did not remember learning. The silver markings along his arm pulsed faintly with his heartbeat.
The forest was quiet. Waiting. A soft sound chimed in his ears.
[Core Stabilised]
[Inner Path Unlocked]
[Would you like to choose your Class?]
Kaizer opened his eyes. Symbols drifted before him like constellations. A list of classes appeared before his eyes, separated by rarity.
====================================
Select Your Class
====================================
------------------------------------
Common Classes
------------------------------------
Fighter
Scout
Apprentice
Hunter
Brawler
Survivalist
------------------------------------
Uncommon Classes
------------------------------------
Ranger
Sellsword
Disciple
Pathfinder
Martial Initiate
------------------------------------
Rare Classes
------------------------------------
Bestial Fighter
Kaizer barely glanced at the other lists. He did not bother reading their descriptions. He knew they were lesser paths, shallow routes of strength meant for ordinary people. Only one option felt alive. Only one pulsed with instinct and potential. Only one resonated with Silver’s presence. He breathed in and reached toward the glowing name. “Alright,” he said softly. “Let’s see what this truly means.”
Kaizer selected Bestial Fighter. The world shifted as the embers crackled. The forest stirred. Far away, in a realm no mortal had walked, something old opened its eyes.
