Beastforged Bond

Brian was the first to fight in the Katrak. I didn’t know the young man and hadn’t bothered talking to him earlier, but I knew he was arrogant and relatively powerful. Honestly, most cadets in the Katrak were powerful and considerably confident in their ability. I knew as much without Daniel having to tell me that Brian was a young member of one of the larger households.

He had gained access to ether and various resources a long time ago, but he was not yet a Master like the Scions. That didn’t mean he was weak. His strength – probably harnessed from several Unblemished beasts – was formidable, definitely greater than Daniel’s or Scott’s. But as talented as he was, his enemy was older. They had both gained access to ether roughly at the same time, yet the Caldera was older and certainly more mature than the seventeen-year-old Brian.

Brian stepped into the arena, his broad chest bare, muscles swelling as two large axes appeared in his hands. A shift in his eyes caught my attention; they turned into azure-blue slits of a serpent. Scales, blue like the ocean, sprouted all over his body, covering his imposing figure as the Caldera approached the Spiritcaller.

The mature Caldera pressed his blade flat against his forehead and lowered himself before the Spiritcaller, flames dancing around the podium. Another chant in the same raw, archaic tone from earlier resounded as the Spiritcaller bent down, marking the Caldera’s face with a paste that shimmered like dancing flames.

Murmurs rang through the rows of humans.

“What is that? Are they empowering him for the fight?” one cadet asked, earning a handful of glares from the Rulers.

“As you can see, this is no more than a rite. Don’t waste your breath on stupid questions and put your energy into using that perception of yours. Or did your parents spoil you rotten instead of teaching you something useful?” Ruler Xadrak said quietly. His voice was almost too soft to hear, yet it carried an edge that cut through the silence, forcing his whisper into our minds.

The cadet blushed, his mouth snapping shut.

Brutal, but fair enough. I shrugged and turned to the combatants. The marks on the Caldera’s face intrigued me. They didn’t empower him in any way, yet it felt like his motivation had skyrocketed.

More scales bloomed from Brian’s body, covering him like seamless armor, but I focused on the Caldera and the crimson spear manifesting in his hands.

Time seemed to crawl around me as the battle commenced. Brian expanded and charged ahead with blinding speed. His figure blurred. The ground beneath him cracked, and he emerged before the Caldera, handaxes swinging down on his opponent’s smaller frame. Fiery sparks jumped to life as the Caldera met Brian’s eyes. A corner of his mouth tugged upward, and the lava-like veins spreading across his body began to glow.

I could barely make out Brian’s trajectory. He was fast–so fast I was certain his first charge would crush me effortlessly–yet the Caldera’s movement made me freeze. The Caldera seemed to slow as Brian accelerated. His body glowed brighter, all while his motion stilled completely, just as the axes were about to remove his head with a cross-slash.

Then the Caldera vanished before my eyes. No, that wasn’t quite right. An afterimage of him lingered where he had stood a moment ago, offering Brian nothing to strike. His axes tore through the illusion one moment, and in the next, the Caldera appeared behind him–blood spurting through the air.

The spear’s blade had disappeared into Brian’s neck, only for the Caldera to tear it out a moment later.

The Rulers shook their heads. Ruler Kazriel wasn’t even trying to hide his disappointment. He sighed deeply and turned to the other cadets, uncaring of Brian’s fate. Brian collapsed to the ground, dyeing the arena red. He twisted a few times before Ruler Sera appeared beside him, emerald light enveloping Brian and his blood.

Time seemed to rewind as Brian’s blood returned to his body. His torn neck knitted itself together while he jerked upward, gasping for air. His hand flew to his neck, and he let out an audible sigh when he couldn’t feel the wound. His eyes reverted to normal, and the dark blue scales faded.

“Did I just die?” he asked, his voice void of arrogance.

“Close enough,” Ruler Sera said, patting his head with motherly affection–though none of it reached her eyes. She turned away, disappointment and frustration flashing through her gaze. “Now get out and watch. Silently.”

Her tone left no room for argument. The group’s mood plummeted.

Taking in the situation and how things had turned out, I suspected the Rulers had expected Brian to win–that he’d crush the Caldera’s confidence, disrupting their battle spirit. That proved to be a mistake. Now it was us–specifically the other cadets–who squirmed. Their confident nature diminished greatly, which might not necessarily be a bad thing. At least they were taking this more seriously now. None of them wanted to die, even if Ruler Sera and Kazriel could yank them back to the living.

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“Phillip, it is your turn,” Ruler Kazriel motioned to a lanky cadet, trying to shift the mood again. His kind aura seeped out, yet it was laced with something more–something sinister.

Looks like someone’s mood is shitty. I grimaced, not quite sure if I wanted to be resurrected if my opponent managed to kill me.

***

Phillip lost the fight–quite miserably at that. So did a female cadet whose name I didn’t catch. To make matters worse, Wesley lost as well. The latter wasn’t unexpected, yet it created a devastating image: four losses in a row.

The Caldera were over the moon, and I even caught some mocking stares and laughing children pointing fingers at our group. The children were only fooling around; however, it came at the cost of our image. I didn’t really care, but the Rulers were fuming. The Katrak hadn’t turned out half as well as they’d expected.

“What is that nonsense?” Sera asked the others, venom in her voice. “Some of their fighters are a decade older than our cadets.”

Obviously. I shook my head, and so did Ruler Xadrak. Even Scott grimaced at Ruler Sera’s outburst. Everyone was fully aware of the situation at hand; we followed the Caldera’s customs and the Katrak’s rules. We weren’t necessarily at a disadvantage. After all, both sides gained access to ether in the same year. The problem was what followed. Children were quick to develop, but they could not bind Guardian beasts just like that. We had to work our way through the ranks, slowly adjusting to the empowerment of our Soulkins–body and mind.

Nurturing our bond was crucial, and that took time. Well, for most Blessed it did. Especially for children, who had yet to gain their Soulkin’s respect–if they had Soulkins like Nox to tame.

“Let Zayn fight,” Ruler Sera added when nobody answered her. The Scion behind her squared up, ready to jump into battle.

“Scott or Adam should fight,” Ruler Kazriel said, shaking his head. “We need to show them that we can beat them at their own game. Revealing the Scion’s power too soon would harm our plan.” He glanced deep into Ruler Sera’s eyes, and a silent conversation passed between the powerhouses. “Do you want us to fail? Can you afford to take responsibility if we fail?”

Ruler Sera’s cheeks turned red in anger, but she didn’t have an outburst, which I expected.

“Right.” She exhaled deeply, releasing her anger, and turned to us. “Who do you want to fight first? I read Cadet Scott’s file. There’s almost no way the Caldera have many Younglings like that Caldera woman. Even if they have, Scott’s traits should secure victory.”

“Let Adam fight,” Ruler Xadrak interjected, his voice cutting through Ruler Sera’s last words.

I stepped forward before I knew it. Fighting the Caldera sounded exciting.

The last time I fought the Caldera, their combat experience and weapon mastery hadn’t been that obvious. I’d been drained from the stress and all that running through the Giant Forest at that time.

We are stronger now.

Fight! Blood! Kill!

My Soulkins were right. We were stronger than ever, and I wanted everyone to see that much–to show everyone how much I had improved in my first year as a Blessed.

“He can go first. My opponents have to wait,” Scott said, his lips parting into a knowing smile. “I’m curious how much stronger Adam has grown.”

Ruler Sera didn’t seem to appreciate Scott’s words, or that he’d squeezed his opinion into a matter the Rulers decided.

“I don’t care who beats them. As long as someone does it, I’m fine.” Ruler Maximilian shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a fire in his eyes that showed how much he cared about the previous losses.

“Go on, then,” Kazriel waved me off, and I stepped forward.

My opponent pushed his brethren aside when he saw me. He shouted something and rushed to the Spiritcaller to receive his mark. The Spiritcaller’s brows furrowed, and he chided the young Caldera who rushed to the arena with quick strides.

I wasn’t quite sure why I did what I did, but I walked around the ring of lava and approached the Spiritcaller, the flat side of my refined silvernit sword pressed against my forehead. As our eyes met, I lowered my body, expecting… What was I supposed to expect? My instincts guided me to the podium, and the odd sensation like someone watched me intently washed over me once more.

The Spiritcaller’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Then they widened as the flames around him flared up once again.

“The Spirit has spoken,” he murmured in Pyra and bent down to mark me as well.

A second tug appeared. This time, it manifested much deeper inside me, and it only grew more intense as the warm paste spread across my forehead and cheeks.

The Caldera near the podium gasped. A rumble swept through their people, but there were no angry outbursts. Merely, my enemy glared at me angrily.

“Not even the Mark of my kin will help you, Adam,” my foe snarled. “Today, my blade shall shatter you. Your inevitable defeat will restore my honor!”

As fearsome as his threat was, him knowing my name was far more surprising. Was I a bad opponent for not knowing his name? I didn’t think so.

I’d already fought the Caldera several months ago, yet his name remained a mystery.

For this fight, you’re going to be Firecracker because you have an explosive temper. I snickered inwardly, while telling myself to inquire his name once all of this was over. He deserved to be more than a nameless Caldera. Although I kinda liked the nickname I’d prepared for him. Firecracker. Real classy.

As much as I enjoyed myself, something about Firecracker had changed over the last few months. He was more dangerous–deadly even.

Flames burst from his skin, engulfing him within seconds. His skin shimmered bright beneath the fierce flames that washed over him harmlessly. A sense of danger surged through the arena, and my lips twitched uncontrollably as the urge in the depths of my being flared up.

It was like my insides were on fire, yet no harm was done.

“Blessed by the Spirit of Volca,” I reminded myself, engraving the name in my mind while steadying my stance as the Caldera’s flames expanded explosively.

My senses zoned in on the Caldera, Predator activated, and I found myself struggling with that ugly smile forming on my lips.