The forest was unnaturally quiet in the aftermath of the ambush.
Alden stood by the crackling fire, his shirt torn at the sleeve, a thin cut bleeding lazily down his arm. He barely noticed the sting. His eyes were fixed on the flames, mind racing with everything that had just happened.
Shadow beasts. Assassins. And a man with golden eyes.
He knew me.
The thought wouldn't stop repeating itself.
Nearby, Kael cleaned his blade with precise movements, unbothered by the weight in the air. Lyra, ever graceful even with blood splattered on her tunic, sat on a flat rock, sharpening her throwing daggers like it was a routine chore.
Alden broke the silence.
"Why us? Why now?"
Kael didn't look up. "Elimination. They want to weaken the competition before the Grand Beast Trials even begin. Pick us off in the dark, where there are no rules."
Lyra glanced at Alden. "And you're drawing attention. That's for sure."
He frowned. "Me?"
She gave a lopsided smirk. "You tamed a Bloodfang in a single day, saved a caravan from bandits, and now fought off an ambush alongside two rare-beast users. The others are already whispering. You're becoming a threat."
Alden looked at his hands, still faintly trembling. "I didn't ask for this."
Kael finally sheathed his blade. "No one ever does."
Suddenly, Bloodfang let out a low growl.
Alden turned. His beast was staring toward the trees, ears flicking.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—an old man with a walking staff carved with strange runes, a massive white eagle perched on his shoulder. His robe shimmered with a soft light, dusted in the colors of dusk.
"Easy, young ones," the man said, voice rich with authority and calm. "I come in peace."
Lyra rose, though she didn't lower her blade. "Who are you?"
The man stopped at the edge of the firelight. "A friend. And perhaps, a guide—if you'll hear me out."
They sat, reluctantly, around the fire again as the old man introduced himself.
"My name is Master Vaelen, once a tamer of the First Circle, and formerly a sentinel of the Grand Beast Trials."
Alden furrowed his brows. "You said 'formerly'. What happened?"
Vaelen's gaze turned distant. "Corruption. The Trials are not what they used to be. Once a noble proving ground, now they're being twisted into a power struggle by those in the shadows."
"You mean the assassins?" Kael asked.
Vaelen nodded. "They are agents of a group called The Chain of Claws. They seek to control the flow of powerful tamers—either by converting them, or eliminating them."
A chill passed through Alden.
"They're behind this ambush?" Lyra asked.
"And many more to come," Vaelen said. "But there's a reason you survived this one."
Vaelen's eyes locked on Alden.
"You, boy. The Bloodfang. The mark on your palm. You are more than you know."
Alden's breath hitched. "What mark?"
Vaelen leaned forward. "Show me your hand."
Alden hesitated, then extended his right hand. Under the firelight, a faint, circular sigil glimmered—almost invisible unless one looked closely.
Lyra gasped. "That's… ancient."
Vaelen whispered, "The Sigil of Concord. A mark that appears only once in an era."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "What does it mean?"
Vaelen straightened. "It means he can do what no tamer has done in centuries."
A silence fell.
"He can bond with beasts not through domination... but through unity. No chains, no force. True partnership. The beast becomes not a tool, but a companion—equal in will."
Alden stared at his palm, stunned.
"But... I didn't even know I had this," he said.
Vaelen smiled. "You don't choose the sigil. It chooses you."
That night, while Kael and Lyra rested nearby, Alden sat alone with Vaelen, his mind storming with questions.
"Why now?" he asked quietly. "Why me?"
Vaelen poked the fire with his staff. "Because the world is shifting, Alden. The balance between man and beast is breaking. The old ways are failing. And the Chain of Claws is rising to turn every creature into a weapon. But you—you are something different."
Alden looked down. "I'm no savior."
"You don't have to be," Vaelen replied. "You just have to walk your path. And if you do… beasts will follow you. Not because they're tamed, but because they believe in you."
A flicker of heat swelled in Alden's chest. The weight of responsibility… and something else.
Hope.
"But the Trials," he said. "They're still ahead. And the Chain—"
"They'll come for you," Vaelen said plainly. "Again and again. You need allies."
Alden looked toward the sleeping forms of Kael and Lyra.
"I think I already have some."
Vaelen chuckled. "Then you're already ahead of most."
He stood, the white eagle spreading its wings silently on his shoulder.
"When the time comes, follow the moon's path into the heart of the Trial Grounds. There, the truth will be revealed."
And with that, he vanished into the trees, leaving Alden with more questions than answers.
But also, a new resolve.
Morning came slowly. Mist curled through the forest as sunlight peeked through the canopy.
The group packed in silence, the events of the night weighing on everyone.
Kael broke it first. "So. What's next?"
Alden tightened the strap on his pack.
"We head to the Trial Grounds."
Lyra tilted her head. "Just like that?"
He nodded. "We're already in the game. Might as well win it."
Bloodfang and Shadowfang padded up beside him, their eyes glowing with silent loyalty.
Kael gave a small, rare grin. "Fine. But if you fall behind, I'm not carrying you."
Lyra laughed. "He won't. He's too stubborn to die."
And together, the three stepped back onto the path, walking into the rising sun.
Unaware that far above, on a hidden ridge, the golden-eyed man watched them.
And smiled.