Beastforged Bond

A thunderous growl pulled me from sleep’s embrace. My eyelids were heavy as my eyes fluttered open to a dozen pairs of gazes looking down at me.

“Looks like someone is hungry,” Ruler Kazriel said, appearing beside me, his benevolent aura shrouding me even as he put a vial to my lips. The contents were viscous, sour, and I’d have loved nothing more than to spit it out, but the Ruler’s eyes were nowhere near as kind as his aura.

As I swallowed, ether and nutrients filled my body. My stomach let out a deafening roar, to which Ruler Kazriel responded by retrieving a second vial. He forced that down my throat as well, his eyes a mixture of ecstasy and frustration.

“You won,” he said quietly. “But you will lose tomorrow. You barely surpassed the other Scions.”

That was true. I closed my eyes and focused on introspection, revealing a damaged weave that had been patched together in a hurry. Physically, I was fine. Ruler Sera, Medicus Lasgha, and the others had tended to me. They fixed my torn muscles, burned skin, and made sure my weave would knit itself together given enough time. However, my pathways were clearly too damaged to be repaired in one session. Not even Ruler Sera could do it. Or maybe she didn’t want to.

Be that as it may, I wouldn’t have been able to fight someone at Zegrath’s caliber tomorrow – or anytime in the next few weeks, really – either way. Eight 1-Star Gates and four 2-Star Gates had been drained, leaving only eight Gates to reinforce the weave and strengthen me.

The weakness that seemed to drain my very being of power made sense. Even more so when the weakness continued to spread as I sat upright. Getting up from the ground was even more draining, consuming an unusually large amount of ether.

Why do you have to be extra petty right now? I cursed the weave. Sure, it required sustenance and enough energy to recover, but draining my intact Ether Gates was not the right solution. I was already weak, and it certainly did not help that every movement consumed almost ten times more ether than normal.

Note to myself: don’t damage the damn weave if you can avoid it.

As messy as it was, the remaining Ether Gates held enough ether to keep me afloat for a while. That didn’t make the sudden weakness any better–every movement made it worse, but I could survive a day or two.

“I need a bath,” I groaned, which resulted in a disgruntled snort from Ruler Kazriel.

Medicus Lasgha snickered instead. “You want to splash around in the Pyrosh?”

Looking up, I met the Medicus’ gaze. “I don’t want to die, so yeah.”

The Caldera’s eyes widened, his lips parted, then closed after a moment, confusion written all over his face.

“You’ve scorched your vessel, drained life and ether until only ash remained,” a deep voice, wise beyond its age, rang in my ears, and the Caldera around me parted, revealing the Spiritcaller’s familiar figure. Zegrath stood beside him, her shoulders slumped, the defeat in her usually vigorous eyes piercing my chest. Her arm had been reattached, leaving only a small scar to hint at the turn of events.

“Let the ash cool, recover, and rise anew – not as a spark in the crackling fire, but as the flame that endures hardship.”

Our eyes met, and I could have sworn I saw something in the Spiritcaller’s eyes. Though what it was… I wasn’t sure. He approached me, the echo of an azure flame burning in his eyes.

“But you are young, and talented flamelets think they can burn brighter than the sun.”

His head flicked to Orieath and moved on toward a few more young Caldera I’d defeated in the last two weeks, until, at last, his eyes stopped at Zegrath. They lingered on the Caldera woman for a few seconds before his blazing eyes swiveled back to me.

“But even the brightest flames fail. Even suns die, only to be born again in another sky.” The Spiritcaller stepped closer, ignoring Ruler Kazriel and Ruler Sera standing beside me. “There is something I would like to show you. Do you think you are strong enough to follow me?”

My lips parted, but Ruler Kazriel appeared beside me, pulling my arm around his shoulder to lean on for support before a sound could escape my lips.

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“I will help him,” he said, putting on his kindest smile. “He is my student, so I shall give my utmost to help him. Be it training, resources, or to help him widen his horizon.”

As the words left his lips, Ruler Kazriel retrieved a serum and two potions to feed me. I accepted them but was surprised at how potent they were. My World stirred when I consumed the serum, stimulating my core to replenish ether more quickly. The weave’s regeneration accelerated, and I felt full–like I’d eaten an entire Guardian beast in one sitting.

“You care a great deal for your disciple if you give him such valuable resources.” The Spiritcaller nodded, his smile genuine as he motioned the two of us to follow. “For helping your disciple, shaping him into a flame that respects, endures, and emerges victorious, you may join us.”

Ruler Kazriel looked a little too happy for my liking. Still, I was curious about what the Spiritcaller wanted to show me, and I was too weak to walk by myself. Plus, the Ruler might give me a few more of those high-quality potions and serums, given his mood.

“I think I’m already feeling a little better,” I said quietly. Ruler Kazriel’s expression darkened for a moment as our eyes met. He let out a soft curse and shoved another serum into my mouth, silencing me for good.

A minute later, the Ruler and I followed the Spiritcaller into the depths of the Elemental Spires.

***

“Do you wish to see the Fire Spirit’s Voice? The incarnation of Volca,” the Spiritcaller asked as we neared the end of the path downward.

Sweat poured down my back but evaporated in seconds. My breath hitched, ether circulating through my throat and mouth, protecting the soft flesh from the hot air. The lava ponds had been hot, the air hard to breathe, but this was a lot worse. I was not even close to the lava veins snaking across the cavern walls, yet I felt like I was on fire. My skin itched, blood boiled, and I was half-certain I would have collapsed a long time ago if not for the slight heat resistance I’d accumulated over the last two weeks.

The flame within helped me absorb the thick, condensed ambient ether, stabilizing my body’s temperature while also filling my Ether Gates slowly. And, of course, Ruler Kazriel’s potions helped too.

“The Fire Spirit’s Voice?” I asked, trying to gather my thoughts in the unbearable heat.

Maybe the Spiritcaller said something, but I didn’t hear as we reached the end of the cavern hall. It opened up to a vast expanse that shot high up the mountain. The ceiling was impossible to make out from down here, but lava veins spread across it. The veins grew thicker the closer they came to the ground until they were wider than most rivers I’d seen in my life. Predator activated instinctively, and it was only now I realized that the liquid was not actually lava. It was ether – attuned and compressed until it had transformed into droplets.

I shuddered involuntarily, my attention snapping between the Spiritcaller’s calm, expectant face and Ruler Kazriel’s excited smile as they both stared into the ocean of liquefied ether that seemed to stretch farther than the eyes could reach. It felt endless, disappearing into the depths of the Elemental Spires, reaching places no one could ever reach.

Waves of lava swept onto the ground we were standing on, but neither was interested in the liquid death. They looked beyond, their eyes trained on the center of the ocean.

Bubbles of lava burst, and stronger waves rolled closer, yet my attention was drawn to the same spot. I caught movements that made my heart skip. I held my breath, and so did Ruler Kazriel beside me.

“Finally,” he whispered, eyes shining as the lava surface broke.

“It appears the negotiations have failed.” A sonorous, yet seemingly archaic voice echoed in my mind, severing my connection with Aureus and Nox momentarily.

“Unfortunately, it did, Your Greatness.” The Spiritcaller bowed deeply. He knelt to the ground, ignoring Ruler Kazriel’s crazed look. “But not all hope is lost. I found and brought the Youngling you’ve been looking for. The Child of Earth.”

The voice in my head shifted, and it felt directed at me as it spoke again. “The Child of Earth, the fetchling Touched by Fire. How ill-fated. If only you were born in Dracos.”

I shuddered as the words echoed in my mind, but I could not help but speak up as the voice’s emotions of disgust and discontent flared through me like my Soulkins’ emotions.

“Not all humans are bad,” I muttered in defiance when the voice’s disgust split and materialized into concrete concepts of hatred and fury aimed at… well, us. Humans. At the greed of mankind, the selfishness, and…the willingness of humans to sacrifice their own people for their gains.

“Not all humans are bad,” the voice agreed almost too easily. “But you enjoy bad company.”

Memories of things neither I nor my Soulkins had ever seen or experienced appeared in my mind, showing Wesley and the others–Wesley using his Charm trait to subdue several Caldera and extract information. I caught a glimpse of the extracted information, but the memories shifted to Wesley forcing all those under his spell to search the Caldera’s home, to analyze it, and to create a map containing the location of all treasures. Yet, it wasn’t treasures Wesley was looking for. It was a beast.

More memories emerged in my head, showing the Rulers, revealing all the negotiations with the Caldera were about–threats, submission, beasts, and…the sacred beast.

“Fate brought us together. It tethered us, Adam Savier, but our meeting comes at a steep price.”

Ruler Kazriel stared at me intently. He had been since I answered the voice earlier, his eyes widened.

“It’s talking to you, isn’t it?” Anger controlled the Ruler’s voice, yet beneath it lingered a trace of happiness I couldn’t quite comprehend.

He let out a soft chuckle. “That means it’s here.”