Morning in the forest was a quiet kind of magic.
The snow lay thick over the trees, their branches heavy, each bough whispering with the faintest movement of wind. The horizon glowed pale orange as the sun struggled to pierce the winter haze. Breath rose in soft clouds from the mouths of the men and beasts alike, curling away into the cold air.
The military vehicle rumbled steadily down the road carved through that white wilderness. Its paint was dulled with frost, tires crunching over the frozen ground, sending fine sprays of snow behind it. Inside, warmth hummed faintly from the vents, a sharp contrast to the world beyond the glass.
Bhanu was at the wheel, gloved hands steady, his gaze forward but alert to every bend and drift of ice. Beside him sat Om, posture relaxed but eyes carrying that same quiet intensity as always. In the back seat was Dawon — though "sat" was generous. The lion was half-crouched, half-leaning, muscles tense with each jolt of the ride.
Dawon's tail twitched restlessly. His golden eyes darted to every vibration, every creak of the vehicle's frame. For him, this was not just movement — it was alien. The ground was not supposed to roll beneath his paws. The world outside the window moved too fast.
A low, uneasy rumble escaped his throat, and his claws — cracked and dulled from years of hardship — clicked faintly against the metal flooring. He shifted, seeking an anchor, and finally placed one scarred paw on Om's shoulder.
Om turned his head at the weight and smiled faintly — a rare warmth softening his sharp features.
"Dawon… don't worry. I know you're scared, but I'm with you."
His voice was calm, deliberate, meant not just to reassure but to ground.
Dawon blinked at him, head tilting slightly at the familiar tone.
"Today you'll see many faces, many smells. It'll be loud. But I hope… you'll get used to your new life."
The lion's ear twitched. He didn't understand every word, but he understood Om. The steady cadence of his voice. The scent of certainty.
Bhanu, watching from the corner of his eye, had heard of Dawon from Narad. A "rescued" lion from the forbidden zone, bonded to Om against every piece of practical advice. But hearing stories and seeing the creature in person were different things entirely.
Bhanu's thoughts drifted as the road stretched on.
"Clearly, studies show lions are built to hunt — their canine teeth, their claws — yet they're weaker than most beasts when it comes to raw power or elemental abilities. It's strange they've survived this long in the wild. And this one… this Dawon… he's even weaker than the others of his kind."
Bhanu glanced briefly at the lion's sunken flanks, the way every rib showed with each breath.
"What kind of trauma did you go through in that place, boy? And why does he… feel different from the rest?"
The vehicle roared on, crossing the frozen river bridge and winding through the outskirts until the heavy silhouette of the Himalaya School came into view — its high walls framed against the snowy ridges.
At the School Gates
The military vehicle rolled to a halt before the front checkpoint. Two guards in grey winter coats approached, rifles like weapons slung across their backs, scanning the visitors.
One of them nodded at Bhanu.
"Morning, Captain. Will master Om join today's training?"
Bhanu nodded, "Yes."
His tone was clipped. The guard glanced at Dawon — the lion's head lowered, his golden eyes fixed warily on the unfamiliar humans — but said nothing, only stepping aside to let them pass.
In the Courtyard
The morning air inside the school grounds was still crisp, but filled with a different kind of energy — the buzz of young voices, the shuffle of boots over stone. Students in winter uniforms, their chatter rising like a tide. Steam rose from cups of tea clutched in gloved hands.
Bhanu guided the vehicle to a stop near the main building. Dawon froze the moment Om opened the door. The noise was too much. His ears flattened, and his tail tucked low.
"I'm still confused how you convinced your boss to let this happen."
Om stepped down onto the snow, boots crunching, and gave Bhanu a faint, amused look.
"If I want something… no one can stop me."
Bhanu snorted and shook his head.
"And what will you do about Dawon? This is too much for him."
Om turned back. Dawon hadn't moved. The lion's muscles were locked, his breath quick and shallow. Students' laughter and shouts made his fur bristle.
Om crouched slightly, meeting his eyes.
"Dawon."
The lion's gaze snapped to him. Om extended a hand — not grabbing, just waiting.
Slowly, Dawon padded forward, every step cautious. Om placed his palm against the lion's cheek, feeling the faint tremor beneath the fur.
"Buddy… as long as I'm here, no one can hurt you."
Dawon let out a low huff, the tension easing just a fraction.
Around them, the gossip began.
"What kind of beast is that?"
"Looks weak… is that really his bond?"
"Why even bring something like that here? Can it even fight?"
"He's just trying to be different."
The voices weren't loud enough to be confrontational, but they carried. Om's ears caught every word. So did Bhanu's. Neither reacted.
"Let them talk", Om thought.
He kept a steady hand on Dawon's shoulder as they moved through the courtyard, cutting past the murmuring crowd toward the training arena.
.
.
.
.
The Training Arena
Om noticed something about the arena.
"They made it different than last time."
The arena was a vast, partially open-air space, its floor a mix of stone and packed snow. Here, the cold bit harder, the wind slipping in from the north. Rows of wooden weapon racks stood against one wall, and several small sparring circles had been cleared.
As soon as Bhanu stepped inside, the hum of conversation shifted. Trainee inheritors — boys and girls from all corners — turned to watch. Some whispered. Others simply stared.
Bhanu's presence always drew attention. But today, it wasn't the captain they were looking at.
It was the lion.
A ring of silence seemed to form around Om and Dawon as they crossed the arena floor.
Dawon's ears twitched at the faint scrape of boots, the hiss of whispers, but he stayed close to Om.
Bhanu came to a stop near the central sparring circle and turned to face the gathered students.
"Alright. Since everyone's so interested, let me make introductions. This—" he gestured toward Om, "—is Om. You've seen him before, he is your fellow school mate, but you haven't seen this."
The captain's gaze flicked to Dawon.
"His bond. Dawon."
There was a ripple of disbelief.
"That's it? No aura. No elemental signature."
"I've seen wild dogs with more presence."
Om's expression didn't change. He simply rested a hand against Dawon's neck, feeling the slow, steadying beat of the lion's pulse.