All Alder could think about was food.
After spending the entire day cramped inside the carriage, his stomach protested loudly. In all his excitement, he had completely forgotten to eat.
The young woman at the front desk had mentioned that each dormitory had its own mess hall, so Alder set out to find it. The halls glowed softly with runelight, the air rich with the scent of old wood and faint traces of magic.
When he rounded the corner, his eyes went wide.
The room before him was enormous—rows of long tables stretching across the polished floor, each one lined with steaming platters of food. Roasted meats, golden loaves of bread, and trays of desserts glimmered invitingly beneath floating orbs of light. For a moment, Alder simply stood there, speechless.
To one side of the hall, a group of well-dressed students sat laughing boisterously, their polished boots and jeweled pins marking them as nobles. Across from them, the commoners ate heartily, their laughter no less genuine even if their clothes were plain.
Knowing exactly where he belonged, Alder made his way toward the commoners' tables.
"You can sit with us if you'd like," said a cheerful voice.
Alder turned to see a dark-haired young man about his age waving him over. "Name's Cal," he added with a grin. "We commoners have to stick together, right?"
Alder smiled gratefully and shook his hand. "Alder Kenwood. Thanks."
He took a seat beside Cal and was quickly introduced to the rest of the group. There was Tarrel, tall and broad-shouldered with smooth dark skin and a bald head that gave him a quietly imposing presence. Carrie and Katie, sisters with warm brown eyes and long, flowing hair, chatted animatedly with Sara, whose delicate features and dirty-blonde hair made Alder's words stick in his throat.
"Sara comes from a merchant family," Cal whispered with a grin, noticing Alder's sudden silence. "Don't worry, she's too nice to bite."
Sara smiled, clearly having overheard. "Only if provoked."
Laughter broke the awkward tension, and just like that, Alder felt at home. They ate until their plates were empty, trading stories about their Trials and families. Alder found himself drawn to Cal's easy humor and Sara's quick wit. The hours slipped away unnoticed.
Eventually, yawns replaced laughter, and the group began to disperse. Alder returned to his room with a full belly and a full heart. For the first time since leaving home, he didn't feel alone.
---
That night, Alder dreamt of monsters.
Shapes lurked in the shadows—fanged wolves, chittering spiders, towering treants with glowing eyes. Each one seemed to watch him, waiting. When he awoke, sunlight was just beginning to creep through his window.
He was halfway through dressing when a knock shook his door.
"Hurry up, Alder! We're getting our monsters today!"
It was Cal's voice, eager and impatient.
"I'm coming!" Alder called back, hastily tugging on his boots. When he opened the door, Cal and Sara were waiting, both grinning from ear to ear.
"The others already left," Sara said. "We're supposed to meet Professor Klemp at the forest gate."
Alder grabbed his satchel and followed them through the bustling corridors. The air was cool and bright with morning energy. "Glad we didn't get lost," he said.
Cal smirked. "I explored last night before dinner. We'd have been fine—even with your terrible sense of direction."
Alder rolled his eyes, but couldn't help laughing.
They joined a crowd of first-years gathered at the edge of Ironwood Forest. Alder's heart skipped as he scanned for Professor Leo, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tall, broad professor with a trimmed beard and sharp eyes stood at the front.
"First-years, line up," the man barked. "My name is Professor Klemp. I teach battle strategy, and I'll be guiding you today to Infants' Field."
He paced before them, hands clasped behind his back.
"It's a large clearing where young monsters gather—creatures drawn to the flowers that bloom there. Most monsters either abandon their young or are born directly from the earth's magic, so you needn't worry about any angry parents. Still, remember—this is not without risk. If you fail to bond with a creature today, you'll have to rely on the Evolution class to provide you a study familiar. Now, follow me."
The class murmured with excitement as they followed him into the forest. The deeper they went, the more the world seemed to hum with energy. The air shimmered faintly, and the leaves whispered secrets overhead.
Then, without warning, Professor Klemp stopped. He pulled out a gleaming runestone, and the air rippled. From it emerged a massive, striped beast with fangs like daggers and paws the size of dinner plates.
Gasps filled the air.
"This is Belu, my partner—a Fanged Brute Tiger. He'll keep us safe."
Despite the creature's fearsome size, several students cooed in admiration. Klemp scowled slightly. "He's not a pet," he muttered.
They continued on, Belu prowling silently beside them.
Not long after, the professor stopped again. A small, jelly-like slime oozed across the trail ahead, wobbling harmlessly. Before anyone could comment, Belu's paw came down, crushing it with a sickening squelch.
A few students gasped.
"It's better for weak monsters to be culled quickly," Klemp said matter-of-factly. "Nature's law."
He reached down, picking a faintly glowing shard from the remains. "This is a monster core. Valuable in alchemy and crafting. Runestones are made from refined versions. Even weak ones can be used in enchantments or sold for coin."
The group murmured in fascination, their earlier discomfort fading into curiosity.
They walked on, watching Belu dispatch more low-level creatures—spiders, wolves, slimes—each one swiftly crushed or swatted aside. The sight made Alder uneasy, but he said nothing.
Then he saw it.
A wooden doll stood motionless among the trees, carved from smooth timber, featureless and still. Yet something about it drew him in. It was almost… alive.
Before Alder could speak, Katie made a face. "That thing's creepy."
And in the next heartbeat, Belu's claws shattered it into splinters.
"Professor, what was that?" Alder asked.
"An enchanted wood doll," Klemp replied flatly. "Spirits that inhabit wooden bodies to walk the mortal world. Rare, but not valuable enough to bother taming."
Alder bit back his response but couldn't shake the sense that the professor was wrong.
---
When they reached Infants' Field, sunlight spilled over a vast meadow dotted with glowing flowers. Dozens of small monsters played among the blooms—slimes, sprites, and tiny elemental beasts.
"Spread out. Find your partners. You've got one hour."
The students scattered eagerly. Alder moved deeper into the field, scanning for something that felt right. Minutes turned into nearly an hour, and still, nothing called to him.
Then he noticed a small stump wobbling at the edge of the clearing. At first, he thought it was the wind—until it turned, revealing two carved eyes and a crooked little smile.
Alder laughed softly. "An enchanted stump, huh?"
He crouched, feeling that same strange pull in his chest. This creature could one day evolve into a treant. It wasn't powerful, not yet, but it felt… right.
He drew Mrs. Hurley's uncommon runestone from his pouch, the faint blue glow reflecting in his eyes.
But before he could move, a thunderous impact shook the ground.
Belu had pounced on something nearby—a wooden doll, just like the one from before. This one, however, didn't break. Its body gleamed faintly under the light. Ironwood, Alder realized. That's why it survived.
Klemp barked an order, and Belu prepared to strike again.
"No!" Alder shouted. Acting on instinct, he sprinted forward, diving toward the fallen wooden doll. He pressed his runestone against its back just as Belu's paw came crashing down.
A blinding light flared, swallowing the world. The air smelled sharp, sweet—alive.
When Alder opened his eyes, the light had faded. Belu loomed only inches away, growling softly, clearly displeased that his prey had vanished into a binding rune.
But Alder barely noticed. His hand tingled. His heart raced. He could feel it—a bond.
He'd done it.
He looked down at the faintly pulsing rune etched into the surface of his runestone. His first monster.
Brushing dirt from his clothes, Alder smiled despite the ache in his limbs. Without the uncommon runestone—or the Ironwood's natural toughness—the seal might have failed. But it hadn't. He had succeeded.
Then his gaze fell upon the little enchanted stump watching him from a distance, its carved smile as bright as ever.
"Why stop at one?" he murmured.
Pulling out a common runestone, Alder approached. The moment he touched it to the stump, pain lanced through his arm. His vision swam, fatigue dragging at him like lead. For a moment, he thought he'd black out—but then, light flared once more, and when it faded, the stump was gone.
Panting, Alder stared at the new rune glowing faintly beside the first. Two bonds. Two partners.
"Atlas," he whispered, looking at the Ironwood doll's rune. Then he touched the smaller one. "And you'll be Willow."
He laughed softly. "Corny, but it fits."
When he returned to the group, the others were showing off their new partners, pride shining in their eyes. Alder said nothing—just smiled, brushing the dirt from his sleeves.
Two monsters. Two bonds.
Tomorrow, his real training would begin.