The West District Arena thrummed with anticipation. Every tier of stone seating overflowed with nobles, summoners, and curious onlookers, their murmurs bouncing off the high walls like restless waves. Banners of emerald, sapphire, and crimson swayed in the wind, each representing a clan, each demanding victory, each promising scrutiny. The scent of incense mixed with sweat and polished marble, creating an intoxicating, almost suffocating atmosphere.
Kael wiped the sweat from his palms, his fingers trembling despite the dryness he tried to maintain. The ceremonial amulet around his neck was unnervingly cold, its obsidian surface biting into his chest. His knees shook; the sheer scale of the arena, the crowd, the weight of expectation, threatened to crush him before the summoning had even begun.
"If this beast even sneezes on me… I'm done for," he muttered under his breath.
The announcer's voice thundered across the arena, making the stone walls vibrate.
"Summoner Kael of the West District! Step forward and reveal your beast!"
Kael's throat went dry. He had trained for this moment for years, enduring countless trials, memorizing every incantation, every binding sigil, every heartbeat of a summoning. And yet, nothing could prepare him for the enormity of so many eyes piercing him, judging, waiting.
With a deep breath, he stepped into the glowing summoning circle etched into the marble floor. His hands clutched the obsidian amulet, and his voice rang out, steady but low, reciting the words of binding. The circle flared, energy rippling across the arena, light and shadow dancing in furious opposition. The air thickened, charged with anticipation, as darkness twisted and coiled at the center like living smoke.
Then she appeared.
Eight wings unfurled, black as midnight with silver edges that caught the sunlight, shimmering with an almost unnatural light. Golden eyes, fierce and unblinking, scanned the arena, pausing briefly on Kael before sweeping across the crowd like a predator assessing prey. She bowed — elegant, deliberate, and with a mocking grace — then drifted toward a wealthy noble in the front row.
Kael's stomach dropped.
"You… you are mine!" he shouted, a note of desperation in his voice.
The beast's voice echoed in his mind, smooth and teasing, laced with disdain:"Mine? You actually thought I'd settle for you? How… cute."
Laughter erupted from the stands. Murmurs of surprise mingled with outright amusement. Kael felt his face flush, humiliation burning hotter than any heat of battle. Even the noble beside him flinched, unsure whether to bow in respect or back away in fear.
Kael's fists clenched. "You'll regret this!" he spat, his voice low, controlled, yet charged with the promise of confrontation.
Nyxalis only chuckled, a crystalline sound that scraped over stone like fragile glass on steel. Her wings twitched, silver edges catching the light in menacing arcs, radiating untamed power.
Kael realized then that this was no ordinary disobedience. She wasn't just defiant; she was testing him. Every glance, every flick of her wings, was a calculated move, measuring his resolve, assessing his courage.
Then the shadows along the arena walls shifted unnaturally, stretching toward the center like dark, sentient fingers. Even Nyxalis paused, her wings bristling, eyes narrowing as a flicker of unease rippled across her golden irises.
The laughter from the crowd faded, replaced by an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the whisper of shifting banners. Kael felt a cold weight press down on him, settling into his chest like an iron band. The air tasted of fear and history, of power older than any summon he had ever studied. Something dark, ancient, and impossibly strong was approaching.
He whispered to himself, barely audible:"If even Nyxalis fears it… then I have no chance."
From the far end of the arena, a figure emerged. Shadows clung to it, obscuring its form, but the ground trembled beneath its steps, marble cracking faintly under invisible weight. Even Nyxalis hesitated, wings folding slightly, a subtle acknowledgment that this presence was beyond ordinary.
Kael's jaw tightened. This was no ordinary test, no mere trial of skill. This was life or death, and the stakes had shifted higher than he could have imagined.
He drew in a shaky breath, grounding himself. Years of training, endless hours of chants and rituals, of summoning smaller, obedient beasts in practice chambers, all surged through him. He squared his shoulders.
"I don't know what it is… but I'll face it," he murmured. "If it's the only way to earn her trust… then I'll do it."
Nyxalis's gaze met his, golden eyes glinting with something unreadable. She did not bow, she did not retreat — but her wings folded just slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment, of consideration. She was testing him, yes, but she recognized the spark of courage that many before him lacked. The game had begun.
The shadowed figure stepped closer. The air around it shimmered, a distortion like heat over stone, but colder, darker, more tangible. It exuded a quiet, terrifying strength, the kind that could crush even a seasoned summoner with a thought. Kael felt his pulse race, yet beneath the fear, determination flared. He had survived this long by sheer will; he would not falter now.
Nyxalis twirled in the air, wings slicing through the sunlight, silver edges sparkling like frozen lightning. She whispered in his mind, playful but deadly:"You may not survive… but I might enjoy watching you try."
Kael's stomach knotted, a mixture of terror and exhilaration. The summoning circle beneath his feet pulsed with his energy, reacting to his intent. He raised his hands, chanting, calling forth everything he had learned. The arena seemed to contract, focused solely on him, the shadowed figure, and the winged storm of power hovering beside him.
A gust of wind burst from Nyxalis, sweeping the banners and sending loose papers swirling through the air. The shadowed figure's form shivered, a ripple moving through darkness itself, acknowledging the combined threat.
Kael felt his fear sharpen into clarity. Every movement, every syllable, every heartbeat mattered. One mistake, one lapse, and it would all be over. Yet beneath the tension, he felt a strange bond forming — not with obedience, but with challenge, with respect. Nyxalis was not his enemy. She was the key to his growth, the mirror reflecting what he lacked and what he could become.
The crowd, sensing the change, leaned forward, murmurs rising again, this time tinged with awe and tension. Kael's chest ached with adrenaline, but he refused to look away from the approaching shadow.
"Let's see what you've got," he whispered, more to himself than to the audience, more to the beast beside him than the darkness beyond.
Nyxalis tilted her head, wings twitching, a single silver feather drifting down like a falling star. Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief, and yet, for the first time, there was a hint of trust — a challenge extended, not cruelly, but as an invitation.
Kael inhaled deeply, raising his hands, and the circle flared again, energy coursing through him like fire. This was no longer about proving himself to the crowd. It was about proving himself to her, to the beast who would not bend, to the darkness that dared approach, and most importantly, to himself.
The game had begun.