The Rebirth Of The Beast Tamer

And as the last fused corpse fell, ichor steamed against the sigil-lit dirt, the Crest were left gasping, half-kneeling among the smoke.

The snares flickered, dimming but they had not been defeated. The runes still hummed, faintly and steady, while promising more.

Kelvin wiped blood from his lip and forced his spine straight. "This is not just a trap," he said. "It is a message. They are ahead of us and they want us broken before we ever reach them."

Salaris dove low, with its wings slashing. Each feather that was heard away necrotic vines that had begun snaking toward Lyra's legs, their green tendrils snapped like whips. She looked up, gasping gratitude before plunging her daggers into another zombie's chest.

The battlefield was a chaos of green fire and shrieks. Every move they made seemed answered by the snares that was bending space against them.

Every breath carried the risk of visions, Kelvin's parents whispered again, Lyra heard Elara's death-cry, Darius relieved the Ironholt from burning.

Kelvin shoved his spear forward, Xerion backed up his strike with a jet of black fire. Darius shattered another anchor stone, the backlash nearly knocked him unconscious.

Lyra bled, but her shadow snares snapped and tore, each kill was pulling her deeper into her grief-born fury. It was not graceful. It was survival, raw and jagged.

And as the last fused corpse fell, ichor steamed against the sigil-lit dirt, the Crest were left gasping, half-kneeling among the smoke.

The snares flickered, dimming but they had not been defeated. The runes still hummed, faintly and steady, while promising more.

Kelvin wiped blood from his lip and forced his spine straight. "This is not just a trap," he said. "It is a message. They are ahead of us and they want us broken before we ever reach them."

The corpses had fallen, but the snares pulsed still with lines of viridian fire threading through the soil and bark, veins beneath the skin of the forest.

Each glow was brightened with a rhythm that was almost a heartbeat. The plain itself shuddered, as though something vast and watching crouched just beneath the surface.

Kelvin wiped his blade against his torn cloak, though the ichor clung stubbornly as he glanced at Xerion. The End-Tyrant coiled, battered, his scales fractured where necrotic fire had erupted against him.

His golden eyes were still burned, yet there was a tremor in his coils that Kelvin felt deep through their bond. The serpent hissed low, not at the corpses but at the ground itself.

"They are not done with us," Kelvin murmured. Lyra coughed blood and forced herself upright with daggers quivering in her hands.

The shadows she commanded flickered and they were unstable. Sweat streaked her face, her braid was loose and it was sticky with grime. "These are not just traps," she said sharply.

"They are tethered to something larger. A lattice. If we move wrong…" She did not finish, her voice was faltering as though the snares themselves leaned in to listen.

Darius a short snorting sound while his hammer was leaned heavy against one shoulder, the gems inset into its head dulled to a sickly glow.

His armor was broken, his breathing ragged. Rhoam paced beside him, growling at the unseen, hackles that raised nostrils flaring at phantom scents.

Salaris was the only one aloft, circling warily. His shout echoed sharply and uneven, each one was bouncing back strangely as if the air itself looped his cries and sending them back delayed and distorted.

"We are boxed," Darius said with his voice hard. "The snares don't want us to leave." He was right but when Kelvin glanced around, the environment stretched wrongly.

Trees were leaned too far, their roots moved inward like claws. Paths that had been clear minutes before now was bent into strange angles.

The forest had become a maze of blackened wood and green fire, every route spiraled back toward the sigils and then the light flared again.

The runes did not birth corpses this time. They birthed memory. A wall of viridian haze rose from the soil, curling into shapes.

The air grew cold, weighted and from within the fog it stepped figures that are familiar, far too familiar.

Kelvin's lungs seemed locked as the figure of his parents stood before him. They appeared as they had in the fire, that day he could never forget.

Their clothes were torn, as their skin charred, reaching for him. Their eyes burned with green flame, but their voices and that of the gods were the same.

"Kelvin," his mother whispered. "Help us." The spear in his hand wavered. Though his chest was constricted and his heart was lurching against his ribs.

It was impossible, it was a lie, but the bond with Xerion quivered and it was unstable under the weight of grief.

Lyra was standing beside Kelvin, so she screamed. The shadows of her image moved without a command, while writhing around her feet.

She clawed at her ears while shaking her head. "Stop! I tried, I tried to save you!" Her voice broke into sobs. "Elara, please I tried!"

From her vision, her sister stood wreathed in flame and shadow, the way she had died in the siege of Hollow's Reach. Elara's face was twisted in agony with mouth frozen with mid-cry, eyes was glowing with the same viridian fire.

Darius roared next, stumbling backward as if struck. The image before him was Ironholt and his home city was engulfed in flames, its great walls was collapsing and the air was filled with screams.

And standing at the heart of the vision was his father, immediately, his hammer shattered and left the armor broken. His mouth was opened in a soundless curse but his eyes was blazing green.

"NO!" Darius thundered, but the sound was drowned in the shrieks of dying echoes. Rhoam snapped at the air, but even the panther's eyes flicked back and forth as though it was haunted by a prey that was not there.

The snares were not killing them with claws or fire. They were unraveling them with memory. Kelvin staggered to his knees. His parents' voices was dug into him like hooks and each word splintered his resolve. You were not strong enough and you were not fast enough, so you let us burn.

"No…" he shouted, his throat raw. "You are not real." But when his father's hand reached out to him, the illusion was so vivid that Kelvin swore that he felt the heat of that long-ago blaze, his heart became broken afresh. His sword clattered against stone as his will shake.

The bond between Kelvin and Xerion trembled, until Xerion roared. The End-Tyrant's voice thundered into Kelvin's mind, a roar not of rage but of determination. It vibrated against his bones and burned through the haze. The vision quivered.

Kelvin gasped, clutching the rope of their bond like a lifeline. "You are right… it is a lie." He forced himself upright, forcing air back into his lungs and forcing his hand to grip his spear.

The visions did not fade entirely, but Xerion's roar anchored him. For every word of false guilt, the serpent hissed back his own truth: You survived, you fight and you will live.

Lyra collapsed, clutching her ears, Elara's shriek filling her mind. But Salaris swooped low and his wingbeats scattered feathers of shadow that struck the air around her.

Each feather hissed with the raven's power, breaking fragments of the vision apart. Lyra's eyes snapped wide. She saw Elara still, but when she looked down, she also saw Salaris at her side and feathers brushed her shoulder.

The raven's caw ranged out an anchor. Lyra gasped, tears running down her cheeks, but she stood. "Elara is gone," she whispered, more to herself than anyone.

"But I am not." Her shadows was steadied, while her daggers was flashing as she carved through the fog, while shattering parts of the illusion.

Darius was the last. The city burning before him was too much, the sight of his father was too sharp. His knees was bent as if to collapse. But Rhoam growled, deep and unyielding while pressing his armored body against the warrior's side.

The bond between them was reinforced, it was not gentle but it was high, a beast's demand, which was to Stand and fight.

Darius roared, tears mixing with sweat, and his hammer rose. He swung straight into the vision of his father. The green fire exploded outward, while bursting like glass under a hammer blow.

The snares shrieked. The visions shake, while rippling like water that is disturbed. For a moment, the illusions became thinned and it was just long enough to glimpse the runes that etched deeper into the ground, pulsing furiously as though it was angered.

Kelvin raised his sword again, his chest breathing fast. "That is it! They want us to be drowned in memory. Anchor to your beasts and anchor to now."

The others nodded, while looking pale but determined. Lyra's daggers shinned, as Darius's hammer burned brighter, Salaris was circled with razor feathers that was ready, and Xerion coiled at Kelvin's side and scales gleamed faintly despite his wounds.