Beast Empire

The Promise by the Lake

The conversation that changed everything came three days after the terrible night when Ethan discovered what his bare hand could do.

Three days of watching their son flinch away from every living thing that approached. Three days of seeing him throw stones at creatures that had once been his dearest friends. Three days of hearing him cry himself to sleep, whispering apologies to the rabbit he'd killed and the tree he'd destroyed.

Marlin found him by the Crystalclear Lake on a grey afternoon when autumn rain threatened and the air hung heavy with unspoken sorrows. Ethan sat alone on the smooth stones that lined the bank, staring at his reflection in the dark water, a boy with haunted eyes and a gloved hand pressed protectively against his chest.

"How are you, son?" Marlin asked quietly, settling beside him with the steady presence that had anchored Ethan's world for as long as he could remember.

"I'm fine," Ethan replied automatically, though they both knew it was the furthest thing from the truth. His voice had grown smaller since the incident, barely above a whisper most days.

Marlin studied the boy's reflection in the water so young, so burdened with fear he shouldn't have to carry. The face that looked back was gaunt from poor appetite, marked by sleepless nights and waking terrors. After watching his son suffer in silence for three endless days, Marlin made a decision that would change everything.

"Ethan," he said carefully, his words measured and deliberate. "You don't have to worry about hurting someone or something as long as you wear that glove. You will not harm anyone."

Ethan's head turned sharply, hope flickering in his dull eyes for the first time in days. "How can you be so sure?"

The desperate edge in his son's voice nearly broke Marlin's heart. He met those pleading eyes and chose his words with infinite care. "Because that glove was made by a very powerful being."

Ethan stared down at the black leather that had become both protection and prison, his fingers tracing the familiar runes that decorated its surface. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the Vasuki story I told you when you were small?" Marlin asked, his voice taking on the same reverent tone he used for the old tales.

"Yes," Ethan whispered, the memory stirring of firelight and his father's deep voice spinning stories of the great sky serpent.

Marlin's expression grew distant, as if he were seeing something far beyond the lake's still surface. "The being who made your glove is so powerful that even Vasuki, the great serpent who could coil around mountains, whose scales shone with starlight, would seem like a child compared to an adult when standing before them. That's how mighty this creator is, and you, my son, are precious to them. Protected by their work."

Ethan's fingers traced the familiar runes on the leather with newfound wonder. The grooves seemed deeper somehow, the patterns more complex than he had ever noticed. "Is that really true?"

"Yes, it's true," Marlin said with absolute conviction. "So don't worry, you will not hurt anyone as long as you wear the glove. It was crafted specifically for you, to contain what needs containing and protect what needs protecting."

The relief that flooded through Ethan was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds after weeks of rain. For the first time in days, he could breathe without fear, could imagine touching the world again without bringing death.

"How much longer will this curse stick with me?" he asked, and for the first time, the question carried hope rather than despair.

Marlin's hand settled on his shoulder, warm and strong and impossibly reassuring. "Trust me, son. Soon you will be free from it. And remember it's not a curse, boy. It's protection."

He stood then, brushing dust from his clothes with casual grace. "Should we go into the forest to check on some of the beasts? It's been too long since we've visited them properly."

And for the first time since that terrible night when he'd learned what his bare hand could do, Ethan had truly smiled and said yes.

The transformation didn't happen overnight, but gradually, like ice melting in spring, Ethan began to trust in the glove's power. The creatures of Kyros, with their infinite capacity for forgiveness and their ability to sense the change in his heart, welcomed him back into their midst with joy that brought tears to his eyes.

Slowly, carefully, he rebuilt the connections that fear had severed. Shimmer forgave his earlier cruelty and returned to her favorite perch on his shoulder, humming her wordless songs. The glowmice danced around his ankles again, their soft green light painting patterns in the grass. Fawncats padded beside him on silent paws, and even the cautious tree-bounds with their silver fur began to trust him once more.

The forest became his sanctuary again, the place where he could be fully himself without fear or pretense. Under the cathedral arches of the Ashspires, surrounded by creatures who loved him unconditionally, Ethan found something approaching peace.

But the questions never truly left him.

As the months passed and then the years, a new kind of restlessness began to grow in his chest. Each morning brought the same ritual: examining his gloved hand in the early light, searching for some sign that today would be different. That today he would feel some change, some indication that his protection was no longer needed.

Is it gone today? He would wonder, flexing his fingers within the familiar leather. Can I finally be normal? Can I finally be free?

By the time he turned fourteen, six years had passed since that conversation by the lake. Six years of wearing the glove without question, trusting in its power as his father had promised. Six years of walking safely among the creatures he loved, confident that the leather barrier would protect them from whatever deadly force slumbered in his flesh.

But six years was also long enough for doubt to creep back in. Long enough for curiosity to reawaken. Long enough for a teenage boy to begin questioning whether the rules that governed his childhood still applied to the young man he was becoming.

The villagers still whispered and pointed when he walked their paths. His horn was impossible to hide now, curved and prominent enough that even his longest hair couldn't completely conceal it. Some called him cursed, others merely strange. But none of them knew the truth about what lay beneath the black leather glove.

None of them understood that their casual fear was nothing compared to the power he kept carefully contained.

On this particular evening, as autumn painted the sky in shades of copper and gold, that carefully contained power was about to break free once more. Marlin was away hunting, Lila was absorbed in her evening tasks, and Ethan found himself alone with thoughts that had been building pressure in his mind for years.

Maybe it's time to know for certain, he thought, his fingers unconsciously flexing within the glove. Maybe I'm finally free.

It was a decision that would shatter not just his world, but the fragile peace his family had built around their carefully guarded secrets.

The evening air hung thick with resin and the gentle hum of night insects as Ethan made his choice and slipped into the forest, drawn by an irresistible need to finally know the truth about what he had become.