The night air hung heavy around the outskirts of the Obsidian Academy. Rayne had barely caught his breath after the trial, yet Veyna had returned, stern-eyed, her cloak rustling with urgency.
"You don't get to rest yet," she said without emotion. "Ashriel's awakening has disrupted more than just the trial grounds."
Rayne instinctively glanced over his shoulder. Ashriel walked behind him, his dark, scaled form fluid and graceful, eyes glowing faintly. A few Academy guards flinched as they passed.
"What do you mean?" Rayne asked.
Veyna handed him a sealed parchment with the crimson insignia of the Headmaster's Council. "There's been a disturbance at the edge of the Forbidden Grove. Something… ancient stirred. And the seal we placed on the grove has weakened."
Rayne opened the scroll. It wasn't a request. It was a command:
"All Tamer initiates ranked Bronze or higher are to report at first light. A cleansing party will investigate the anomaly at the grove's perimeter. All unranked tamers, including the anomaly Rayne Vareth, are to remain confined. His presence is a liability."
Rayne's fingers tightened on the scroll. "So… I'm not allowed to help."
Veyna didn't answer. Instead, she glanced at Ashriel. "You bonded with a beast older than this Academy. The Council fears what else you might awaken."
Later that night, Rayne sat on the edge of his assigned dorm roof, watching shadows drift across the forest's border. Ashriel lay coiled beside him, wings folded, tail twitching.
"I don't get it," Rayne muttered. "I passed the trial. Ashriel's bond saved me—and them. And they still treat me like I'm a threat."
You are, Ashriel spoke telepathically, his voice deep as thunder beneath water. But only because they fear what they do not control.
Rayne exhaled. "You think there's really something dangerous out there?"
Ashriel's eyes narrowed, focusing toward the black tree line.
I feel something stirring. Something not bound by flame or nature. A hunger.
Rayne stood. "Then we'll see for ourselves."
⸻
They left before dawn, slipping past the outer wall's defense sigils using a trick Rayne had learned in the Archives: mask the core's presence by harmonizing his pulse with the beast's mana.
The Forbidden Grove loomed ahead—gnarled trees stretching like twisted claws, mist pooling in silence. A crumbled stone arch marked its edge, etched with runes now cracked and fading.
Ashriel growled low. This place reeks of sealed magic… and blood.
Rayne placed a hand on the nearest tree trunk. It was warm. Almost breathing.
Just then, a whisper brushed his ears.
"Help… please… it hurts…"
Rayne spun. No one. Just the wind.
He stepped forward—and the mist shifted, revealing a figure crawling toward him. A girl. Her clothes were shredded, blood streaking her arms. She collapsed at the grove's edge.
Rayne rushed to her, kneeling. "Hey! Are you—"
Her eyes snapped open. Black. Hollow.
Ashriel lunged.
Too late.
Her mouth split unnaturally wide, shrieking with a sound like tearing flesh and breaking glass. The mist exploded around them, revealing a swarm of twisted creatures—half-beast, half-shadow—eyes gleaming red, bodies stitched from smoke and bone.
Rayne rolled aside as Ashriel's wings slammed down, releasing a shockwave of fire. The nearest creatures vaporized, but more poured in.
"What are they!?" Rayne shouted, unsheathing a pulse knife he barely knew how to use.
Corruptions, Ashriel snarled, tail smashing through one beast's head. Tamed beasts that were consumed by forbidden mana. Abominations.
Rayne fought clumsily, using what little he'd learned. But there were too many.
Ashriel's wings flared. We must retreat. Now.
Rayne hesitated. Then nodded. Ashriel grabbed him, launching into the sky just as the horde swarmed below.
As they soared out, the girl's body below dissolved into black smoke. It hissed after them like a curse.
Back at the Academy, chaos had already broken out.
Veyna intercepted them the moment they landed.
"What in the nine hells were you thinking?" she barked.
Rayne shoved past her. "You knew! You knew something like that was waiting!"
Veyna's expression shifted—not surprise, but pain.
"We sealed that place a generation ago. Nothing should've survived."
Ashriel stepped forward, his voice dark and ringing through the courtyard.
Something ancient has awakened beneath those roots. The corruption isn't spreading. It's summoning.
Veyna paled.
Rayne clenched his fists. "Let me help."
She shook her head. "You aren't ready."
"I don't care. You sent students to die—"
"Enough!" another voice thundered.
Headmaster Erion stepped from the shadows, robed in shimmering silver, staff glowing.
He stared at Rayne. "Your beast's presence may have awakened this threat. You are not a savior, boy. You are the match that lit the pyre."
Despite Erion's declaration, a Council meeting was held that night.
Rayne wasn't invited.
But that didn't stop him from listening.
Hidden near the high chamber's vent shaft, he crouched, Ashriel keeping silent vigil nearby.
"…The corruption is rooted in the Vein," one elder said. "If it's awakened, we'll lose more than the forest."
Another snapped, "And you blame the boy for this?"
"He tamed Ashriel," Erion said grimly. "That alone should've been impossible. And now a nest of corrupted beasts has opened."
A third voice—soft, almost sympathetic—cut through: "What if he's the only one who can stop it?"
A pause.
Then Erion, colder than before: "If he is… we'll need to make sure he survives. Even if we don't."
The next morning, Veyna met Rayne in the training yard.
Her expression was unreadable.
"You're being reassigned," she said flatly.
Rayne's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"A team is being sent into the Grove's inner perimeter. Not to purge, but to seal it again. You're on it."
Rayne straightened. "So they finally trust me?"
"No," Veyna replied. "They trust Ashriel."
Then she handed him a new crest. Not the bronze trainee badge.
Silver.
Rayne stared.
"You're promoting me?"
"Call it what it is," she said. "We're using you."
That night, Rayne prepared for the expedition. He and Ashriel practiced syncing their flames, forming shield patterns with synchronized breath. Rayne could feel their bond deepening—no longer just survival, but understanding.
Ashriel spoke as they trained.
This forest… it was once sacred. Before the corruption took root, tamers came here to commune with wild spirits.
"What happened?" Rayne asked.
The Council sealed away something they couldn't destroy. Now it awakens, drawn to imbalance… and power.
Rayne's eyes narrowed. "And we're going to face it."
Together.
At dawn, the expedition assembled.
Four elite tamers. Two healers. One rune mage.
And Rayne.
They rode out under a blood-orange sky, the sun veiled behind smoke from the Grove.
As they approached, the trees whispered like they knew their names. One by one, the others hesitated. Rayne didn't.
The archway stood once more, somehow rebuilt overnight, carved in deeper, older runes.
Ashriel stopped. His body tensed.
The veil is thinner here. Can you feel it?
Rayne nodded. A chill ran down his spine.
He stepped forward—and the earth trembled.
The trees parted of their own will.
And in the clearing beyond, something waited.
A massive throne of black root and bone.
Upon it sat a creature draped in shadowed silk, its face hidden behind a beast skull mask.
It raised a hand.
And spoke Rayne's name.
"Welcome home, Flamebound."