A low, trembling growl cuts through the silence.
It's not loud — more a vibration than a sound — but it hums in the air, soft and steady, like fog caught in the wind. The mist stirs around me, shifting toward the noise. Then I see it.
Nestled in my palms, where the golden flame should have been, lies a small dragon. Its scales shimmer between silver and grey, a faint sheen that bends the light like smoke on water.
Its wings fade into mist at the edges, rising and falling with each slow breath. The dragon's tail has no clear end; I can't tell where the fog starts and the dragon ends.
Its eyes are fixed on me — curious but calm. Below them, a regal snout seems to draw in the mist around us with every breath. While it stares at me, the world feels still again — as if it's waiting to see what I'll do next.
My eyes light up as I realize what I'm holding in my hands. That's not just a Lumen-3 Spirit Animal! This little dragon… it's showing clear signs of controlling an Attribute.
To think I would get a Lumen-4 Spirit Animal, also called an Ascendant — just one step below the Mythicals spoken of in legend and faith.
With a disbelieving grin, I turn to the priest. Gone is all his authority; all that remains is a muscular man, eyes wide in shock as he stares at the dragon in my hands. But he still manages to squeeze out a few words.
"To think I would be present… at the birth of a Mythical."
"What?" The word slips out before I can stop it.
A Mythical? No… that can't be right. Mythicals are legends — beings that shape reality itself. Mine's barely the size of my hands.
While I turn back to it, the dragon in my hands lets out a low, resonant growl —
"Grrrhhh…" — not threatening, but proud, as if declaring itself to the world.
The crowd starts to get loud in the background. All I manage to catch are fragments — "Mythical," "That can't be true," "What did he say?"
The noise swells, but it stops the moment a voice cuts through the mist — calm, low, and steady.
"Enough."
My grandfather steps forward, mist curling around his boots as if recognizing him. His gaze lingers on the dragon, then on me.
"As I thought, the mist finally got its overlord," he says quietly.
And for the first time today, the fire in the chalice flickers… as if it heard him.
~~~≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋~~~
I follow Jin's father, the butler, through the corridors of Veilhold Manor toward my father's study. The air inside, as always, smells faintly of dew and rain. I'm still not sure what any of this means for me, but maybe Father and Grandfather can make sense of it.
The mythical dragon, sleeping in my arms, doesn't seem to care about its surroundings. It looks at peace, as if everything is as it should be, while the fog it breathes out continues to flow around it.
It's been asleep ever since the ritual ended — as if the awakening drained every spark of strength it had. Sometimes, a faint pulse of mist escapes with its breathing, proof that it's still tethered to me.
When we finally reach the door to my father's study, the fog in my mind clears a little, and I manage to compose myself. Now, I'm ready to talk about the future of my mythical dragon and me.
Before our trusted butler opens the door, he murmurs with a faint smile, "You've given the manor quite a stir, young master. Your father and grandfather await you inside."
He glances at the dragon. "It suits you."
~~~≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋~~~
As I enter, the mist that clings to me drifts forward, curling across the polished floor as if it belongs here. The study smells of parchment and old rain.
My father stands tall before the fireplace, the glow of the flames painting his figure in gold and shadow. Eldran waits by the window, half turned toward the grey outside — his outline blurred by the mist, as it always is.
"The mist follows you already," my grandfather says softly. "That's a Mythical for you."
"And that Mythical will draw every pair of eyes in the kingdom," my father, Varen Myrvale, says without turning. "I already know we'll be summoned by the throne."
"You always did care too much about the throne," Eldran says, finally turning to face us. "They could never truly touch us — especially now that we have a true Mythical, and not just my wolf, Veilfang."
"Yes, yes — the great Veilfang," Varen says dryly. "But perhaps we should discuss the dragon in the room?"
Looks like they've finally managed to focus on the topic at hand. This little back-and-forth is a common occurrence.
My father has always stood in the shadow of Eldran — one of the few people still alive who managed to raise his Lumen-4 Spirit Animal into a Lumen-5 through legendary feats of defending our borders.
"Zenon, do you know the difference between a Lumen-4 and a Lumen-5 Spirit Animal?" Varen asks.
"A Lumen-4 controls an Attribute," I answer. "A Lumen-5 governs one. The world bends around them, instead of the other way around."
"That's right," Eldran says. "Take my wolf, for example. At Lumen-4, we could control mist and fog to hide, at most, a few houses."
"But as soon as it ascended to Lumen-5, I managed to spread the fog across our entire barony. And it wasn't just the reach that expanded — before, I could create a fog so dense it worked like a barrier. Now, I can do so much more."
"While it's important to understand what such power might become," Varen says, "you should remember — it's still an infant. For now, its strength will be little more than a whisper."
"I understand," I say. "Future power means little if I die before then."
His words make sense. Everyone here speaks of what might come — but right now, all I have is a sleeping creature and the weight of their expectations.
The dragon shifts slightly in my arms, mist rising and falling with its breath. I feel no rush of excitement, no fear — just a quiet certainty, like standing in the eye of a storm. Whatever this little one becomes, it will grow as I do. Slowly. Naturally. In balance.
A faint tremor runs through my arms. The dragon stirs — a small sound, halfway between a sigh and a growl, slips from its throat. Mist ripples across the study, thin and silver.
"It's awake," I murmur.
Eldran steps closer, eyes soft. "Good. That means the link has stabilized. From now on, its growth will mirror yours. You should go and see the kingdom with your Spirit Animal — the experiences you share will help you both grow."
Father nods once. "And you'll need guidance. Your grandfather would be perfect, but…"
"Sadly, I'm too old to wander the lands of the Blazing Kingdom with you," Eldran says, his voice gentle but edged with regret. "I'll teach you all I can about the Attributes, but you'll have to see the world with someone else."
The dragon lifts its head, silver eyes meeting mine. For a heartbeat, I feel something — a quiet echo of awareness, calm and sure.
"Then we'll learn together," I say.
Eldran smiles faintly. "Even legends start out small."
The dragon exhales, mist curling into the warm air. And for the first time since the ritual, I feel its heartbeat steady with mine.
Now I just have to find a fitting name for a Mythical Spirit Animal…