Max slipped through the eastern corridor of the Citadel library, his footsteps careful on the marble floor. Afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating dust particles that danced in the air. Few people ventured into this section—the Beast Bond archives held little interest to most.
Perfect for someone who needed answers without scrutiny.
The archivist barely glanced up from his ledger as Max passed. Being overlooked had its advantages. In his previous life, Max spent countless hours here researching historical battles. Now he sought different knowledge.
"Young master Drakhalis," a voice called.
Max turned to find Archivist Teller approaching, spectacles perched on his nose. The old man's robes smelled of parchment and ink.
"Returning so soon? Your research on tactical formations yesterday wasn't sufficient?"
"Different topic today," Max replied. "Beast Bonds."
Teller's eyebrows rose. "Unusual interest for one without a manifested bond."
"Perhaps that's precisely why I'm interested."
The archivist considered this, then nodded toward the restricted section. "The historical records are in the eastern alcove. Family bloodline documentation requires authorization."
"Just general knowledge today," Max assured him.
Teller returned to his desk, leaving Max to navigate the towering shelves. The Beast Bond section occupied a circular chamber with a domed ceiling painted with images of legendary beasts. Light filtered through colored glass, casting blue and gold patterns across the floor.
Max pulled several tomes from the shelves. Sovereign Beasts Through Ages. Manifestation and Maturity of Spectral Companions. Blood Concordance: Lineage Effects on Bond Strength.
He settled at a worn oak table and opened the first book. His siblings' bonds were legendary even in his previous life. Atlas, Brian's War Lion, stood taller than a horse and commanded lesser beasts with a thought. Hazel's Midnight Fox could slip between shadows across vast distances. Lily's Frost Serpent generated cold that preserved foods for the entire Citadel during summer months.
Then there was Astra, Violet's Dawn Gryphon, whose feathers shed healing light during the darkest hours of battle.
Max flipped through the records methodically, seeking patterns. The text blurred before his eyes:
"...while bloodline affinity determines compatible beast types, the manifestation strength correlates most strongly with the bondmaster's knowledge and affinity..."
"...contrary to Imperial doctrine, House Drakhalis bonds show varied progression rates independent of birth order or blood purity..."
"...Ervan Drakhalis's Terra Wolf manifested at age twelve with immediate earth manipulation capabilities, whereas his pure-blooded cousin manifested at nine but required three additional years to develop comparable abilities..."
Max paused, reading that passage again. Not blood, but knowledge and affinity. He pulled another book closer, this one detailing the progression of beast powers across generations.
"House Veridian maintained pure bloodlines for seven generations yet produced progressively weaker bonds, while House Drakhalis incorporated three foreign bloodlines and yielded the strongest beast bonds recorded in the Eastern Territories."
He traced his finger along a family lineage chart. His name appeared at the bottom, marked with a dotted line indicating adoption rather than blood relation. Yet Cinder's presence, however formless, proved bonds transcended blood.
Max turned pages until he reached a section on dormant bonds:
"Spirit beasts sometimes remain formless for years, gathering strength within their chosen masters. Historical accounts describe such bonds suddenly manifesting with capabilities far beyond their developmental stage, particularly in times of extreme need."
A rustling sound pulled Max's attention away from the books. A group of junior officers entered the chamber, talking in hushed tones about tomorrow's patrol assignments. Max gathered his notes and moved deeper into the archives, away from prying eyes.
In a secluded alcove stood ancient statues of legendary beasts. Each plinth bore inscriptions detailing feats of renowned bondmasters. Max walked slowly among them, studying their forms. A stone gryphon, wings spread in flight. A wolf with earth crumbling beneath its paws. A serpent coiled around a frozen pillar.
At the far end, partially hidden in shadow, stood a dragon statue. Unlike the others, this one bore no inscription, only strange symbols carved into its base. The stone creature appeared different from common dragon depictions—smaller, with more delicate features and flame patterns spiraling across its scales.
"Sovereign dragon," Max whispered, recognizing the form from fragments of memory. In his previous life, he'd glimpsed illustrations in forbidden texts during the desperate final days.
He reached out, fingers hovering above the statue's snout. Something tugged at his consciousness—Cinder, responding to the stone effigy.
Max placed his palm against the cool stone. For an instant, the dragon's eyes glowed amber, and warmth spread through his fingers. The symbols at the base illuminated briefly with the same golden light.
"Interesting," a voice remarked from behind.
Max spun around, dropping his hand and immediately suppressing his aura. Archivist Teller stood watching, head tilted in curiosity.
"The Sovereign statue rarely reacts to visitors," Teller observed. "Many believe it contains a fragment of true dragon essence."
"Just felt warm from the sun," Max said casually.
Teller approached, studying the statue. "Did you know dragons once chose the rulers of all Seven Kingdoms? Before the Imperial Consolidation, before the Church's ascendancy, the great beasts determined who was worthy to lead."
"Sounds like a convenient myth to justify power," Max replied, careful to appear disinterested.
"Perhaps." Teller ran his fingers across the symbols. "Yet all our Beast Bond traditions stem from those ancient practices. Your family's affinity is particularly curious."
"How so?"
"The records show House Drakhalis has produced more varied and powerful bonds than any other line, despite—or perhaps because of—your diverse bloodlines." Teller glanced at Max. "The beasts know the heir was never theirs to crown."
Max kept his expression neutral. "Meaning?"
"The beasts choose based on qualities beyond blood and birthright. They recognize something humans often miss." Teller adjusted his spectacles. "Your siblings each manifest impressive bonds, yet historically, the most extraordinary manifestations occur in those who understand their beasts most deeply."
"I should return to my studies," Max said, gathering his notes.
"Of course." Teller stepped aside. "Though I wonder—what does young Maximus Drakhalis seek in these dusty records?"
"Knowledge is its own reward."
"Indeed." The archivist smiled. "And sometimes, knowledge awakens things long dormant."
Max nodded politely and walked away, feeling the weight of Teller's gaze between his shoulder blades. As he passed the dragon statue again, he carefully kept his aura suppressed, revealing nothing.
But deep within, Cinder stirred, the formless presence growing warmer with each passing day. Max sensed the connection strengthening, feeding on his knowledge and recognition rather than any bloodline privilege.
The beasts knew better than humans who deserved their power. And they had chosen him despite his adopted status.