Beastkin Capital – Urrakar, Dawn
Urrakar awakened with purpose.
The first sun—bright and golden—rose over the carved white-stone city, illuminating sweeping banners and high archways. The second sun remained faint, a pale ghost behind the sky, casting soft light over streets already coming alive with movement. Merchants opened stalls. Guards switched shifts. Young beastkin darted between market lanes with energy that rivaled lightning.
Raygen tied his hair back with practiced precision.
He didn't stretch. He didn't groan awake. He simply stood, strapped on his crimson-iron armor, and checked his weapon. Every motion deliberate. Efficient. Controlled.
Asa watched him from the windowsill where she'd been awake for hours, legs dangling as she polished her daggers.
"You're early," she said.
"You're loud," he replied.
Her grin widened. "Better. That's the Raygen I know."
He didn't answer. Words were wasted when time was short.
Twenty-eight days remained.
The City That Didn't Bow
Stepping into the streets of Urrakar was stepping into a rhythm—a pulse Raygen understood almost instinctively.
This city was built by predators.
Not cruel ones. Not bloodthirsty ones. But aware ones. Beastkin moved with coiled grace, their steps silent, their eyes sharp. Every person—old, young, armored, or robed—carried themselves like danger was a familiar friend.
Raygen blended into that current naturally.
Asa, in contrast, bounced between stalls like a hyperactive shadow.
An avian-kin trader waved a long-feathered arm. "Humans! Rare sight this far east. You need armor repairs? Wyvern scale polish? Fire-gland oil?"
Raygen's eyes didn't even flicker toward him.
They needed a map.
They found one under a shaded awning where an elderly wolf-kin woman watched them approach with unsettling calm. Her silver mane drifted gently as wind passed through.
Raygen nodded in greeting. "We need hunting grounds."
She studied him. Really studied him. "You do not ask for safety."
"No," Raygen said. "We ask for challenge."
Her gaze sharpened, shifting to Asa. "And you?"
"I want things that explode," Asa said cheerfully.
The wolf-kin sighed and handed Raygen a detailed map.
He scanned it quickly.
Savanna Outer Plains.
Stormrise Ravines.
Emberline Dells.
Deadwind Expanse.
Raygen tapped the Emberline region. "These creatures are fire-aspected."
"Yes," the wolf-kin replied. "And fast. Humans die there often."
Raygen handed her coin. "We won't."
She paused. Not out of disbelief—but weighing him again, calculating.
"…Perhaps," she murmured.
Raygen Does Not Flinch
The heat outside Urrakar's gates pressed against them, thick and heavy. Rays of sunlight shimmered across tall grass, bending the horizon into waves.
Asa took a deep breath of the warm wind. "Training plan?"
Raygen pointed to a ridge three kilometers away. "We run. There and back."
Asa blinked. "You? Suggesting cardio?"
"It builds endurance," Raygen said simply.
She snickered. "Didn't expect you to become the strict one."
Raygen started running.
No complaints.
No groans.
No theatrics.
Just momentum.
Sand kicked behind him in steady bursts as his boots carved a clean path across the plains. His armor was heavy, the sun relentless—but his breathing remained even. He'd grown up fighting for meals in alleyways, running rooftops with Asa to avoid trouble, pushing his body long before the guild ever recognized him.
This was nothing.
Asa jogged beside him. Not struggling, but impressed. "You good?"
"Yes."
"Scale of one to ten?"
"Zero."
She laughed and pushed harder. Raygen matched her pace effortlessly.
They reached the ridge in one clean sprint, touched the stone, then headed back without pause. By the time they returned to the spot they started, Asa was sweating lightly.
Raygen wasn't.
She wiped her forehead with her sleeve. "Okay. Fine. You win round one."
"There are no rounds," Raygen said. "Only preparation."
Into the Emberline Dells
The Emberline Dells were a contradiction—beautiful and hostile.
Red-leafed shrubs flared with heat. Burrow holes pocked the ground like scattered craters. Occasionally sparks drifted upward from the scorched earth. The air smelled faintly of sulfur and singed grass.
Asa crouched near one of the burrows. "These are adorable."
Raygen crouched beside her, studying the soil. "…These are hunting dens. Multiple exits. They're pack creatures."
"Oh, good," Asa said. "More things to stab."
A faint trill-skitter drifted through the dells.
Raygen stood, hand already on his sword. "Incoming."
Fire burst from the burrows.
Dozens of ember-coated creatures shot into the open like living sparks—rabbits built of flame and scaled embers, eyes glowing bright orange, leaving trails of molten light behind them.
Raygen stepped forward calmly.
Asa grinned. "Raygen, they're so cute—"
The nearest emberhare lunged.
Raygen kicked it mid-air.
It exploded into smoke.
Another skittered across the ground, faster than a thrown dagger. Raygen pivoted, catching it by the back and slamming it into the ground hard enough to extinguish the flames.
Asa flickered beside him—silent shadow, star-blades slicing arcs of glinting steel. She moved with joy.
Raygen moved with precision.
An emberhare darted toward his left side. He didn't look—he simply shifted weight, twisted, and brought his sword down in a controlled diagonal slash, the ember creature dissolving before it even registered the strike.
Two more leapt from opposite angles.
Raygen advanced, not retreated.
His blade flashed once—twice—three times, clean and efficient.
Dead.
Asa whistled. "You're terrifying."
Raygen rolled his wrist, letting the sword settle into a relaxed grip. "Keep moving. They're coordinating."
Explosions of fire lit the ground as more emberhares burst from deeper burrows. They attacked in coordinated waves, their movements synchronized in ways normal wildlife never displayed.
Raygen surged forward. "Cut their flanks."
"On it!"
They moved together—Asa dancing in spirals, blades carving arcs of shimmering starlight; Raygen slicing through attackers with methodical precision.
When the last emberhare evaporated into burning ash, the dells fell silent.
Asa bent down, scooping up embers. "Loot!"
Raygen knelt beside a burrow, inspecting the soil again.
"They aren't natural," he said.
Asa stopped. "…What do you mean?"
"These things coordinated too cleanly. Their mana signatures were elevated. Something is agitating them."
"Something like…?"
Raygen looked toward the east, toward deeper lands. "A larger predator."
Asa's grin returned. "Perfect."
A Shadow on the Ridge
Raygen sensed the presence before Asa did.
A gaze—sharp, cold, heavy—fixed on them from above.
Raygen turned his head slightly. "We're being watched."
Asa immediately whipped around. "Where?"
Raygen nodded toward a rocky outcrop.
A tall figure stood atop it—broad-shouldered, built like a walking blade of muscle. Midnight-black fur streaked with silver shimmered in the sun. His tail flicked once, razor-precise. Cerulean eyes glowed like enchanted steel.
A panther-kin.
But not common.
Not ordinary.
He radiated lethal calm.
The panther-kin stepped down the slope without a sound. Not even gravel shifted beneath him.
Asa whispered, "He's strong."
Raygen already knew.
He watched the beastkin's footwork, breathing, the way his shoulders stayed relaxed even as he approached. This was a warrior who understood killing intimately.
The panther-kin stopped a meter away.
"Humans," he said. His voice was low and resonant. "You survived the Emberline Dells."
Raygen held his gaze without flinching. "They were manageable."
Asa nodded. "Cute but bitey."
The panther-kin studied Raygen first, then Asa. His expression didn't move, but something in the air tightened—as if he were evaluating their threat level.
"You fight with efficiency," the beastkin said.
Asa lit up. "Me or him?"
"Him."
Raygen didn't react.
The panther-kin crossed his arms. "Most humans run from Emberhares."
"We are not most humans," Raygen said.
"Correct." The beastkin's eyes glinted. "You are either very capable… or very foolish."
Asa bowed dramatically. "Thank you."
"That wasn't praise."
"It felt like praise."
Raygen stepped forward. "If you intended to intervene, you would have. You didn't. Which means you came here for something else."
The panther-kin's tail flicked again. Approval? Hard to tell.
"Direct," he murmured. "Good."
He took one more step forward—towering over both humans with an intimidating stillness.
"My name is Thorian. Captain of the Urrakar City Guard. Hunter of the eastern plains. Keeper of balance within these lands."
Asa whispered, "Keeper of—damn, that's a title."
Raygen didn't blink. "Why observe us?"
Thorian's stare hardened.
"You both intend to train here. I can smell it. Determination. Ill intent crushed under discipline. Too many humans come with arrogance alone—most die. But you…" His eyes locked on Raygen. "You move like someone who has fought without protection. Without rules. Without anyone coming to help."
Raygen said nothing.
Thorian continued.
"The Emberline Dells are the border. Beyond them lie things far worse. If you continue deeper without guidance, you will not survive long enough to grow into whatever you are trying to become."
Asa crossed her arms. "So what? You're here to lecture us?"
"No." Thorian turned away. "I am here to see if you can follow orders."
Raygen's eyes narrowed. "Orders."
"Correct." Thorian looked over his shoulder. "If you wish to train in Urrakar… then you train under me."
Asa's eyes widened. "Wait—you're offering to teach us?"
Thorian's expression didn't change. "I am offering to keep you alive."
Raygen's fist tightened around his sword hilt.
Not in anger.
In anticipation.
Thorian turned, walking deeper into the savanna.
"Follow," he said. "If you are worthy."
Raygen moved immediately.
Asa grinned and jogged beside him. "There he goes. No hesitation. No fear."
Raygen didn't look at her.
"There's no point fearing challenges," he said quietly. "Only failing them."
The wind shifted.
Lightning crackled faintly in a sky with no storm.
Somewhere far above, Alac watched the three shapes move across the plains—
—and for the first time since the journey began…
He smiled.