The forest pulsed with deep intensity as dusk approached. Bioluminescent caps brightened in rhythmic pulses, throwing long, violet shadows over the moss as it grew thicker and more sodden underfoot.
With the undergrowth aside, Crispin searched the radiant canopy, seeking a kindred spark. Hours had vanished among the paths and wound back on themselves in a maze.
The little slime pressed against his neck.
He glanced at it, thoughtful. People did not find slimes in places like this. Most stories put them deep in Elven lands, far from taming grounds and dragon trails.
He resisted the urge to probe the bond for answers it wasn't offering. Trust deserved to settle before answers came.
A Shimmer-Cat watched from a high shelf, its fur rippling with static electricity that turned the fine hair on Crispin's neck upright. He placed Regulus on a soft patch of moss before attempting an approach; the cat vanished into the mist before the first word of greeting could leave his lips.
The silence of the deep woods felt heavy.
Crispin adjusted the strap of his satchel. The cool, gelatinous weight of his companion shifted against his collarbone. He needed a beast that commanded respect—something to stifle the whispers in the amphitheater before they could begin.
A low, guttural hiss vibrated through the air near a dense thicket of stinging vines. Crispin froze. Through the glowing stalks, the unmistakable sheen of metallic scales caught the light.
A cobalt-drake was rooting through the leaf litter. It must be hunting for cave-slugs. The drake was long and lean, armored with plates the color of a deep ocean trench. The tail ended in a jagged bone-spur that twitched with every movement.
A creature of genuine power… cobalt-drakes were notorious for foul temperaments and a corrosive, blue-tinted bile that could eat through leather in seconds. Most tamers avoided them. A surge of reckless ambition tightened Crispin's throat. He reached up to steady Regulus, his chest heavy with a sudden, driving pulse.
The drake shrieked the moment their eyes met. It was a sound like iron tearing against a jointed socket. It was sharp enough to make Crispin's teeth ache. The beast did not charge; it turned and bolted toward a narrow, lightless cave. A jagged limestone outcropping nestled the entrance. Scales left a trail of fading azure light in the gloom as it vanished into the earth.
Crispin hesitated at the mouth of the tunnel. Entering an enclosed space with a vicious predator was an act of madness. Legends or no, any of the dragons released by the Elder could have claimed this damp hollow as a nest.
He stood at the threshold, the cool dampness of the cave air brushing his face. If he wanted to prove he belonged among the elite, he had no choice.
He tightened his grip on the slime and stepped from the twilight into the dark.
The interior was beautiful. Raw sun-crystals jutted from the walls; they cast long, dancing shadows that moved of their own accord.
The air was heavy and thick, carrying the sharp aroma of cave rot and the cloying scent of damp earth. Crispin slowed. His boots crunched on a floor littered with ancient, calcified remains.
Deep within the winding passage, the cobalt-drake circled back. It shrieked; the sound bounced off the damp walls until it came from every direction at once. Blue shadows blurred in the crystalline light.
The beast lunged from a high ledge, jaws snapping at the air. Crispin flicked his forearm up to protect his eyes. Talons raked across his skin, tearing through the sleeve of his tunic. Three stinging lines of red opened on his arm, beading with dark blood.
He palmed a stone. His gaze darted to the pulsing sun-crystals. A moment of precision could gain him the bond he sought. If he threw the stone with the right force, it could rupture one of the glowing crystals. A blinding light would ensue, and he could bond the drake.
As tension laced his muscles, he flinched. The bond of Regulus pulsed to him through his mind. He sighed. A young bond, so tender. It matched everything he sought. Did he want to trade his bonded companion for this vicious little drake? The stone tumbled from his hand.
The drake hissed one last time before vanishing deeper into the gloom. Scales scraped against rock as it retreated into a crevice too small for a human to follow. Crispin slumped against the cave wall and sank to the floor.
His breath came in ragged, painful gasps. The adrenaline was receding, leaving a cold, throbbing ache in its wake. He tore a strip of cloth from the hem of his tunic to bandage the wound; his fingers were thick and clumsy with cold as he tied the knot.
"That didn't go as planned," he muttered. The words echoed against the vaulted ceiling, sounding frail in the darkness.
He looked over his shoulder. The weight on his neck was gone. A sudden, sharp hollowness opened in his chest.
"Regy?"
He looked down, his eyes adjusting to the dim, golden light of a nearby crystal cluster. A few feet away, Regulus was busy. The slime had enveloped a pile of discarded Sun-Crystal shards mixed with the shimmering, iridescent remains of a large Glow-Beetle.
The translucent blue of his body churned with a violent internal current. Golden light swirled within the jelly as the crystals dissolved, their jagged edges smoothing out as biology broke them down like acid in a crucible.
Crispin watched, spellbound. He had never seen a slime consume raw minerals. Most scavengers stuck to rotting fungi or soft organic matter. Regulus vibrated with a quiet intensity; a heat pulsed from his core that reached Crispin even from a distance.
"I bet you were hungry, eh, little guy? What are you assimilating?"
The golden light within the slime grew concentrated—a miniature sun trapped within a sea of blue glass. The churning stopped.
Regulus patted his surface with a small, wobbling nub of jelly. A ripple of satisfaction passed through him. In the center of his form, little lips shaped into a tiny, proud smile.
Crispin chuckled. The tension in his shoulders dissipated. "That hit the spot, eh?"
He reached out. Regulus flowed back onto his hand, feeling denser than before, his weight more significant and his temperature warmer. The golden light of the sun-crystals had left a faint, shimmering dust within the translucent body.
A distant horn sounded from the village—a long, resonant note signaling the last call for the ceremony. The sound rolled through the caverns, muffled but unmistakable in its urgency.
"It's late, buddy." Crispin stood and brushed stone dust from his trousers. "We have to head back before they close the terraces."
The long walk back through the forest felt shorter now that the bioluminescence was at its peak. Giant mushrooms the size of houses glowed neon green; their spores drifted through the air like heavy, glowing snow. Streams bubbled beside the trail, reflecting the vibrant sky.
Remnants of the day's hunt littered the path. Scorch marks on the bark suggested a dragon had passed. Broken branches and flattened moss marked the passage of heavier beasts.
A twinge of doubt surfaced. He was returning with a handful of jelly while others brought back creatures that could level a building. He looked at Regulus, who was busy mimicking the shape of a small rock on his shoulder.
"We might get laughed at," Crispin whispered.
The slime bounced once but didn't seem concerned.