The sun had barely breached the horizon when the Valestar home stirred with silence too heavy for words.
Arion stood at the doorway, travel pack slung across his back, the wolf at his side. Its silver eyes gleamed in the dawn light, threads of their bond pulsing faintly with each shared breath.
Darius clasped his shoulder, grip like iron. "You listen well, boy. Out there, you'll be surrounded by vultures. Nobles, kings, priests—they'll smile at you with teeth sharper than blades. Never forget where you come from."
Arion met his father's eyes. For a moment, the stern facade cracked, revealing the fear of a man sending his son into a world far larger than their village.
Selene wrapped him in an embrace before words could form. "Stay alive," she whispered fiercely. "That's all I ask. Stay alive."
Lyra clung to him last, tears streaming freely. "Don't go, Arion. Please. You'll just… disappear, like in my dreams."
Her voice twisted like a knife. She had always been sensitive to things unseen, her dreams sometimes eerily prophetic. Arion tightened his hold on her.
"I'll come back," he said softly. "I swear it."
The wolf pressed against his leg, as if sealing the vow. Lyra hiccupped, stroking its fur. "Then take care of him," she whispered to the beast.
For once, the wolf didn't growl. It bowed its head instead.
By the time they reached the village outskirts, the royal escort awaited. The cloaked messenger stood tall, impatience flickering in his sharp eyes.
"Are you ready, boy?" he asked.
Arion nodded once.
"Good. The Academy doesn't wait for stragglers."
The caravan set out, armored riders flanking their path. Villagers watched from afar, whispering prayers, curses, and envy alike. Arion ignored them. His focus lay ahead—toward the capital, the Academy, and the tangled web of power awaiting.
The Nexus stirred.
[Directive: Adaptation in progress.]
[Recommendation: Solidify bond. Entity requires designation.]
[Failure to name bonded entity may result in instability.]
Arion glanced down at the wolf. Its silver eyes glimmered, watching him with eerie awareness.
A name. In another life, he had never bonded this beast. But now… it was his first ally. His first anchor.
He reached down, fingers brushing its fur.
"Fenris," he murmured.
The wolf's ears flicked. A pulse rippled through the bond, threads of light strengthening.
[Bond Stability: 37% → 45%.]
[Designation confirmed: Fenris.]
The wolf—Fenris—huffed softly, content.
Hours passed. The road wound through rolling hills, forests whispering with unseen eyes. The escorts were silent, disciplined, their armor gleaming beneath the sun.
Yet beneath the calm, Arion felt it.
The shift in the air. The tension in the horses' steps. The faint tremor in the earth.
Danger.
[Warning: External threat detected.]
[Probability of hostile ambush: 84%.]
[Directive: Prepare.]
Arion's gaze sharpened. His hand drifted to the wooden practice sword strapped to his pack—not a true weapon, but enough when wielded by someone who remembered rivers of blood.
Fenris growled low, silver eyes fixed on the treeline.
And from the shadows, movement stirred.
The caravan slowed. Horses snorted, nostrils flaring, their unease spreading like wildfire through the line. The escort commander raised a gloved fist, signaling a halt.
"Shields up. Eyes sharp." His voice was a steel whisper.
Arion stepped closer to Fenris. The wolf's hackles bristled, its low growl a warning long before the treeline split open.
The first arrow sang through the air.
A guard raised his shield just in time, the shaft splintering against iron. Then the forest erupted—figures pouring from the undergrowth, blades flashing, faces masked. Bandits, perhaps. Or mercenaries. But Arion saw the way some of their skin shimmered with faint fractal markings.
Not ordinary men.
"Ambush!" the commander roared.
Chaos ignited. Steel clashed, horses reared, screams tore through the air.
Arion's body moved before thought. In another life, he had seen countless such ambushes—kings betrayed on roads, caravans slaughtered, academies burned. His grip tightened around the wooden training sword. To the escorts, it was a joke. To him, it was enough.
The Nexus whispered.
[Combat protocol initiating…]
[Soul Authority: 2% engaged.]
[Directive: Survive.]
A raider lunged at him, blade arcing down. Arion sidestepped, the motion fluid, precise. His wooden blade cracked against the man's wrist, bone snapping. Before the scream fully formed, Arion pivoted, striking the temple. The raider collapsed like a puppet with strings cut.
The escorts froze for a heartbeat, stunned.
"This boy—!" one of them muttered.
But there was no time for awe.
Another assailant charged, fractal markings blazing faintly along his arm. He swung a jagged axe, the air itself bending under the force. Arion's pulse spiked. He had seen this essence before—raw, unstable, but lethal.
"Fenris!"
The wolf leapt. Silver eyes flared as it slammed into the raider, teeth sinking into his throat. Blood sprayed. The bond pulsed—power flowing between beast and boy in a rhythm that wasn't entirely natural.
[Fractal Bond Interface activating.]
[Shared perception unlocked: 12%.]
For an instant, Arion saw through Fenris's eyes—the world sharp, scents layered like colors, the enemy's heartbeat thundering like war drums.
He staggered, then steadied. A grin ghosted his lips.
So this was the bond's true nature.
The battle raged. Escorts formed ranks, shields locking, spears thrusting. The ambushers pressed harder, more organized than mere bandits. Someone was backing them.
Arion cut through two more, wooden blade cracking ribs, shattering knees. With Fenris at his side, the rhythm of death was a dance.
And yet—amid the chaos, his gaze snagged on one figure.
At the treeline, a hooded man stood still, watching. His eyes gleamed faintly violet, fractal energy swirling around him like a crown. He didn't fight. He observed.
And when their gazes locked, Arion's chest tightened.
He knows me.
Not from this life. Not from this time. But from the countless cycles burned into Arion's soul.
The hooded man raised a single finger to his lips. A gesture of silence.
Then, as quickly as he appeared, he vanished into the forest.
The ambushers faltered soon after, retreating with unnatural coordination.
The escorts regrouped, bloodied but alive. The commander spat on the ground, face grim. "These weren't common raiders. Someone sent them."
His gaze shifted to Arion, lingering on the boy who had fought like a veteran, wolf at his side, eyes too sharp for his age.
"…Who exactly are you?" the commander muttered.
Arion sheathed his wooden blade, breath steady despite the carnage.
"Just a villager," he said quietly. But in his chest, the Nexus hummed with secrets, and the violet-eyed stranger's silence echoed like a warning.