The bells rang at dawn, low and heavy, echoing across the terraced cliffs of Stonewake District.
Riven stood still as the sound washed over him, hands clenched inside threadbare gloves. Below him, the city stretched outward in layers—stone platforms carved into the mountainside, connected by lifts, bridges, and spiraling stairways. Steam rose from mana engines, mixing with the morning mist and painting the air silver.
Today wasn't a celebration.
It was a sorting.
In the Kingdom of Arxen, everyone awakened eventually. Some at ten. Some at fifteen. A rare few earlier. The awakening defined a person's worth, their profession, their ceiling. Once it happened, your path was decided.
Riven was seventeen.
Late.
Too late, according to most.
"Still standing there?" a voice rasped behind him.
Riven turned. His uncle Marrek leaned against the doorway, one leg stiff from an old injury, oil stains darkening his sleeves. He'd worked maintenance on the lower platforms his whole life—repairing lifts, patching mana lines, fixing systems no one else wanted to touch.
"I'll go," Riven said.
Marrek nodded, eyes lingering on him. "Don't rush. Awakening late isn't always a curse."
They both knew that was a lie, or at least a hopeful exaggeration. Late awakeners usually manifested weak talents—minor enhancements, trade skills, things useful but unremarkable. Enough to survive. Never enough to rise.
Riven stepped out onto the lift platform and joined the line of youths already waiting. No one spoke much. Some stared ahead with forced confidence. Others fidgeted, whispering prayers under their breath.
The lift descended, chains rattling, carrying them down into the Inner Ring.
The Awakening Hall loomed at the center of the city, a circular structure grown from white crystal and reinforced stone. Riven had passed it countless times, but he'd never entered. From the inside, it felt larger—its ceiling arching high above, engraved with sigils that pulsed faintly with mana.
At the center stood the Awakening Array.
Unlike the stories from other kingdoms, Arxen didn't rely on injections or artifacts implanted into the body. Here, awakening was done through resonance. A person stepped into the array, synchronized their mana core, and whatever lay dormant inside them responded.
Or didn't.
Officials called names in measured tones.
One by one, candidates entered the array. Light flared. Some emerged glowing with fresh mana, their talents announced and recorded. Others walked out unchanged, faces pale, futures sealed.
Riven waited.
His name echoed through the hall at last.
"Riven Arlo. Step forward."
He moved, heart hammering. The array hummed as he stood at its center, bare hands resting on the crystal pillars. The surface was warm, almost alive.
"Focus," the official instructed. "Do not resist."
Riven closed his eyes.
At first, there was nothing. Then pressure—like the weight of a deep ocean pressing inward. He felt something stir, something coiled and quiet, not responding to the array but watching it.
The crystal pillars flared.
Gasps rippled through the hall.
The light didn't explode outward like the others. Instead, it bent inward, folding around Riven, sinking into him.
Pain followed.
Not sharp, but deep, dragging something up from the depths of his core. Riven cried out as images flooded his mind—vast plains, ancient forests, skies filled with wings and roars. Countless presences brushed against his awareness, distant but aware.
Then silence.
The light vanished.
Riven collapsed to one knee, gasping.
Murmurs spread quickly.
"That reaction—"
"There was no classification—"
The officials exchanged tense looks as a faint sigil finally formed above Riven's head. It wasn't one of the standard geometric symbols. It was circular, layered, marked by countless tiny points of light connected by thin lines.
The senior registrar frowned. "This isn't a recorded talent."
The sigil shifted.
Text appeared beneath it.
[Innate Ability: Prime Bond]
The hall went quiet.
"Prime Bond?" someone whispered.
Riven stared at the words, his pulse roaring in his ears.
"What does that mean?" the registrar demanded.
Before anyone could answer, Riven felt it again—that presence. Stronger now. Closer.
Something answered him.
A second sigil appeared, this one far less stable, flickering as if struggling to manifest.
[Bond Target Detected]
The crystal floor cracked.
Mana surged violently, throwing officials backward as the array overloaded. Riven barely had time to react before the world twisted, space folding inward around him.
Then he was gone.
He landed hard, rolling across damp earth.
Riven groaned, pushing himself upright. The Awakening Hall was gone. In its place stood a forest—ancient, towering trees blotting out the sky, their roots thick as walls. The air thrummed with raw mana, far denser than anything he'd felt before.
His breath caught.
This wasn't anywhere within the city.
A low growl rolled through the forest.
Riven turned slowly.
From between the trees emerged a creature unlike anything he'd seen. It stood as tall as a horse, its body covered in dark, scale-like plates, eyes glowing a deep, molten gold. Cracks along its hide pulsed with light, as if something powerful burned beneath.
It wasn't attacking.
It was watching him.
Riven felt no fear.
Only recognition.
The presence inside him surged forward, and the interface appeared again, clearer now, more solid.
[Prime Bond Condition Met]
[Forming Initial Bond…]
The creature stepped closer, lowering its massive head until its glowing eyes were level with Riven's. Hot breath washed over him, but he didn't move.
He raised his hand.
When his palm touched the creature's forehead, the forest erupted in light.
Mana flooded between them, raw and untamed. Riven cried out as something fundamental rewired itself inside him—not just a connection, but a shared existence. Memories brushed against his own, alien yet familiar.
The creature roared, not in rage, but in affirmation.
The light faded.
Riven collapsed, exhausted, the forest spinning.
The interface hovered above him.
[Bond Established]
[Beast Classification: Unknown]
[Status: Dormant]
Riven laughed weakly, disbelief bubbling up through the exhaustion.
Unknown.
Dormant.
Nothing about this was supposed to exist.
Somewhere far away, alarms rang through the Awakening Hall as officials scrambled to understand what had gone wrong.
But Riven didn't hear them.
He lay beneath ancient trees, bonded to something the world had forgotten—or never known—and for the first time, he understood one thing with absolute clarity.
Whatever his awakening was…
It had just rewritten the rules.