Mira's chest heaved as she tried to steady her breath. Prove my worth? She had barely survived the last exchange, and Fengrion was standing there unscathed, looking at her like she was still a child stumbling through her first spell.
The massive tiger's piercing blue eyes glowed in the dim cave, filled with something unreadable—judgment, patience, expectation.
Mira wiped the sweat from her brow, forcing herself to stand tall. "What do I need to do?" she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.
Fengrion didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted his head toward the cavern ceiling, his gaze distant, thoughtful. Then, with a low rumble, he spoke.
"A spiritual beast does not serve a master who does not understand them," he said. "You may have inherited the War Goddess's flame, but you are not her." His gaze met hers again, sharp and cutting. "So tell me, Mira. What do you fight for?"
The question hit her harder than any of his attacks.
What do I fight for?
Mira clenched her fists. For power? To prove herself? To protect?
Her mind raced, but no answer felt right. She had spent so much time struggling to control her flames, so much time surviving—but what was she really fighting for?
Fengrion watched her, waiting.
Mira took a slow breath, grounding herself. Then, she closed her eyes and let herself feel—the heat of her magic, the memories that drove her forward.
The loneliness of being abandoned in the outer court.
The betrayal of Akira's silence.
The weight of her unknown past.
The frustration of being weaker than the others.
But beneath it all, something deeper pulsed.
She didn't want to just be strong.
She wanted to carve her own path.
She wanted to be someone who could stand on her own.
Mira opened her eyes, fire blazing within them. "I fight for myself," she said. "For my own strength. My own future."
Fengrion's gaze narrowed. The cavern remained eerily silent, the very air holding its breath.
Then, suddenly—
He lunged.
Mira didn't flinch.
The massive tiger stopped just inches from her, his fangs bared, his scorching breath fanning across her skin. Testing her.
Mira stood her ground, refusing to retreat.
Fengrion let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Good," he murmured. "Then take your final test."
The temperature in the cave plummeted.
Mira's breath turned to mist as icy chains slithered up from the ground, wrapping around her wrists and ankles, locking her in place. A golden rune appeared beneath her feet, pulsing with a primal, ancient energy.
"This is the Binding Trial," Fengrion said. "It will test whether your soul is truly strong enough to withstand a bond with me."
The moment he spoke, pain shot through Mira's entire body.
She screamed.
It was as if fire and ice were battling inside her, tearing her apart. Her veins burned, her bones trembled, and a powerful force pressed down on her very soul.
She couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Memories flashed before her eyes—fragments of something ancient, forgotten.
A battlefield drenched in flames.
A woman standing atop a mountain of corpses, her piercing eyes filled with fury.
A temple submerged in water, sealed in ice.
Mira gasped, her consciousness slipping.
No. No, I can't black out.
She forced herself to stay awake, gritting her teeth against the unbearable pain. If she gave up now, she would lose everything.
Fengrion watched, silent and unmoving. "A weak soul will shatter," he said. "A strong one will endure."
Mira's body screamed for relief, but her heart pounded with determination.
I won't lose.
She reached for her magic—but her flames wouldn't come.
Something was blocking them, holding them back.
She clenched her fists. Break. Break!
Then, deep inside her, she felt it—
A pulse.
Not of pain.
Not of suffering.
But of something ancient waking up.
The chains around her shattered.
The rune beneath her feet glowed blinding white, and suddenly—
The cave exploded in light.
Mira collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. The pain was gone.
A heavy silence fell.
She looked up at Fengrion, who now stood before her, his massive form bathed in the dying embers of magic. His expression had changed—no longer testing, but accepting.
Slowly, he lowered his head until his massive forehead rested against hers.
A bond was formed.
Mira felt a surge of power rush through her veins—not just her own, but his.
His voice echoed in her mind, not as a challenger, but as a companion.
"From this moment, we are bound by flame and fate. You are my master. And I am your blade."
A mark burned into the back of Mira's hand—a tiger's eye surrounded by swirling flames.
It was done.
She had tamed the Guardian.