I woke with a slow blink, not quite remembering when I'd fallen asleep. I was still in my room. Sunlight filtered through the curtains in soft, warm streaks. My parents were gone—their blankets folded neatly, the space where they'd been now quiet. Only the faint memory of their presence lingered, like the last warmth of a fire.
I rubbed one eye, still caught between dreaming and waking, my thoughts slow and floaty.
Whap.
Something slapped me right across the face.
"Dammit—!" I yelped, grabbing my cheek.
The Phantom Eagle let out a lazy huff and rolled over like nothing had happened, one wing half-draped over the edge of the bed, feathers puffed up in sleep.
"Heartless bird" I muttered holding my cheek Stunned.
Still wincing, I pushed myself upright—only to feel a nudge at my elbow.
The little Spirit Deer stood there, eyes bright, nudging my arm with its nose and then glancing toward the door. I could practically hear its thoughts loud and clear:
Food. Bathroom. Now, please.
I groaned and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
"All right, all right. I'm up," I muttered, giving its head a sleepy pat. I scooped up the half-asleep Phantom Eagle in my arms, careful this time to dodge another wing to the face.
My father was already awake, folding his old blanket and tucking it away in silence. He didn't say a word—just looked at me and gave a small, quiet nod. That was enough.
We'd said what mattered.
I stood and stretched. My soul beasts moved with me like shadows—silent, steady, familiar.
Today was the first step.
And I was ready to take it.
Something inside me felt… different. Woven tighter. Like the night had stitched something deeper into my soul.
Outside, the Phantom Eagle glided up to a perch above the courtyard, letting out a low, contented rumble. The Spirit Deer nudged my palm with its soft nose, its breath warm against my skin.
I took a breath and stepped into the center of the courtyard, settling into a seated position on the smooth stone.
Time for training.
I started with core refinement. My breathing evened out. My focus deepened. The soul energy stirred inside me—slow, steady, alive. A rhythm that wasn't just mine anymore, but ours.
As I sank deeper into meditation, both of my soul beasts joined me—settling down beside me in perfect stillness.
Together, we entered that quiet space, that shared stillness where words weren't needed.
Thread by glowing thread, the bond grew stronger.
Stronger than yesterday. And only just beginning.
——
The courtyard was quiet, just the way I liked it for training. A little breeze, a little sunlight, and the soft rustle of leaves—perfect. I sat cross-legged in the center, drawing in slow, deep breaths, letting the qi energy settle low in my core. It pulsed like a second heartbeat, warm and steady.
Lufei, the little deer, was curled beside me, her legs tucked neatly under her. Maxius, the moody bird that he is, was up in the tree just above, one eye cracked open like he was pretending not to care—but I knew better.
I peeked at them, still half-focused.
"…We need to talk about names," I murmured.
Maxius didn't move. Lufei's ear flicked.
"All right, for you—" I looked at the deer, who blinked up at me like she already knew I was about to say something dumb. "How about… little foot?"
Silence.
"Okay, rude." I huffed, rubbing my nose. "Moonblossom?"
Her tail twitched.
"Spirit-koi?"
Now she turned away completely like I offended her ancestors.
"Wow," I mumbled. "Tough crowd."
Then I felt something through the bond—not words, but more like a soft little pulse of agreement when one particular sound drifted through my head.
Lufei.
I said it out loud, slower this time. "Lufei?"
She looked back at me and pressed her soft nose to my arm like it had been her idea the whole time.
I smiled. "Lufei it is. Graceful but petty when necessary. Very fitting."
Now, onto the flying menace.
I glanced up. "Your turn, bird boy."
Maxius cracked one golden eye open at me.
I lifted my brow. "Shadowstrike?"
He closed his eye.
"Ravenblade?"
Still no reaction.
"…Lord Talon of the Thousand Winds?"
A loud thump echoed as he slapped his wing against the branch like he was personally offended.
"Okay, okay!" I threw my hands up, laughing. "Too much. I get it."
I leaned back a little, looking at him again he did remind her of her Maximus but not quite he wasn't a menace 🥲. "What about… Maxius?"
This time, I felt something click. A shift. Like a nod that wasn't a nod. His feathers ruffled once, slow and proud, and he gave this low hum I hadn't heard before. Not annoyed. Just… calm.
"Maxius it is," I said, smirking. "Sleek, smug, probably thinks he's better than me."
He flared one wing like he agreed completely.
I rolled my eyes, then stood up and dusted off my knees.
"All right then. Lufei. Maxius. Let's train."
The moment I dropped into position again, they shifted with me—Lufei lying down beside me, eyes half-closed, and Maxius hopping lower on the branch, gaze sharp.
We breathed together.
Qi flowed.
Their presence settled around me—not just as summons or soul beasts—but as something more.
Partners.
My people.
And yeah… it felt like the beginning of something real.
⸻
The past few days had been nonstop.
Up with the sun. No breaks. No mercy. Just me, Maxius, Lufei… and enough weight training to turn my arms into boiled noodles.
We hit the ridge every morning—Wild Line territory, just inside the 1-star beast zone. It wasn't dangerous enough to kill us, but just wild enough to keep us on our toes. Perfect for chaos training. Especially our kind of chaos.
Sometimes we pulled boulders with ropes. Other times we wore weighted vests while running uphill until we collapsed like wet laundry. Even Maxius was getting in on it, flying with sacks of stones strapped to his back. He hated it. I could feel him complaining through the bond every time.
Lufei had to be bribed with spirit berries just to push logs with her tiny deer body, but she was getting stronger—stubbornly so. One morning, I caught her trying to lift a rock bigger than her head just because Maxius looked smug from a tree branch.
We sparred with low-level beasts too—engaging, not killing. Just enough for practice. Enough for Lufei to learn not to panic, and Maxius to fine-tune his dives without accidentally obliterating the target.
Honestly? We were like roaming gremlins. Show up, cause a scene, train, chase something, flee from something bigger. Beautiful routine.
⸻
Scene 1:
"DUCK!"
I did—barely—as Maxius dive-bombed over my head, wings cutting the air with a sharp snap. He was locked onto a Razor-Tusk Boar who, by the looks of it, had done something personally offensive.
Meanwhile, Lufei and I were in a high-stakes staring match with a Fire-tail Monkey on a mossy rock. Correction: we were fighting for dominance over the mossy rock like it was a throne.
"Lufei, don't bite its tail!"
Too late.
The monkey screeched, launched itself backward—and chucked a fat fruit directly into my face.
Lufei, completely unbothered, gave me a look that basically said: Your reflexes suck.
⸻
Scene 2:
"Go! Left!"
Lufei zipped around a Snap-Tongue Lizard's lunge while Maxius circled above, wings tense, waiting for the right moment.
She was getting good—she didn't flinch now. She danced around the lizards like she was born for it, taking hits and learning how to rebound.
Then Maxius dove.
Fast as lightning.
One sharp shriek later, both lizards bailed out, leaving behind nothing but trampled grass and a victorious deer posing like she was in a painting.
"Alright, team," I said, hands on hips, "maybe we don't suck today."
⸻
Back home? A whole different battlefield.
My room looked like a cross between a nursery, an alchemy lab, and a beast pit stop. Blankets everywhere, a stack of training weights in the corner, Lufei's chew toys (sticks, but don't tell her that), Maxius's molted feathers…
And in the middle of it all?
The egg.
It had officially graduated from "large" to "small mountain."
Six feet tall. Radiating qi like it had its own heartbeat. I'd been feeding it cores, meditating beside it, even whispering to it when no one was looking. I could feel it shifting inside—not cracking yet, but close.
Dad wandered in one afternoon, leaned on the doorframe with his walking stick, and just stared.
"…Yumei."
I didn't even look up. "Yeah?"
"You sure that thing's not gonna explode?"
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm serious." He limped closer, pointing at the egg with his only hand like it might detonate. "You're feeding it like you're fattening it for a harvest festival. It's already the size of a cart. You think it's gonna hatch into something? Or eat us first?"
I tried not to laugh, but his face was deadly serious—his blind eye squinting harder than the good one.
"It stopped growing yesterday," I said. "You noticed too, right?"
He muttered something that sounded like "We'll see," and hobbled back out, shaking his head like the egg owed him money.
I watched him go, his steps uneven but stubborn as ever. One leg, one eye—but still showing up. Still watching out for me.
⸻
Also? I made the mistake of looking up beast training techniques on the Netsphere.
Never again.
One guy swore he taught his elephant beast to use Jet Cannon by making it drink nonstop while telling it jokes.
"Stimulate the trunk!" he wrote. "Surprise it with joy!"
What does that even mean?! Elephants already drink water! They sneeze! You didn't teach it Jet Cannon—you startled it into spraying you!
By the end of that scroll thread, I felt personally attacked. I closed the browser with force.
Then I checked prices for actual beast food, core supplements, training facilities near the city…
And almost screamed.
I'm broke.
Like… sell-my-spare-boots broke.
Classes start Monday. I'll be living in the city for the next few years, so I have to earn some money before then. I was planning to rent a small place near the academy, because no way in the five realms am I sharing a dorm with some stuck-up beast-tamer who thinks bathing their cat-dragon is a personality.
…But I did promise Father I'd try to make friends.
😤😒😔
Ugh.
So yeah. Money, cores, training. No time to waste.
That egg's going to hatch soon. The academy's waiting. And I've got soul beasts to level, a bond to grow, and something big to prove.
They don't see me yet.
But they will.