Sovereign of the Forbidden Beast

The first scream shattered the ceremony before it had even properly begun. It tore through the grand plaza like a blade, sharp and raw, forcing every head to turn toward the centre platform where a boy had collapsed to his knees, clutching his arm as golden light spiralled violently around him.

His summoned beast, an armoured gryphon, descended in a blaze of radiant feathers, its wings casting long, divine shadows across the marble floor.

Applause erupted almost instantly, not out of concern, but out of awe. “High-grade celestial affinity,” one of the elders announced, his voice swelling with approval. “Exceptional.

The crowd responded as expected. Admiration Envy Desire. This was how worth was measured. This was how futures were decided.

At the very edge of the plaza, standing where the shadows of towering pillars swallowed the light, Kael Virex watched in silence. Not the empty kind of silence, The kind that presses inward, The kind that listens. He did not clap. He did not smile.

Because none of this was new to him, the city of Halrune had always worshipped power, and today, on the Day of Summoning, it would bear its teeth more openly than ever before. “Next.”

The word rolled across the platform like a verdict. Another youth stepped forward, trembling but hopeful. The ritual circle ignited once more, ancient runes flaring into life as energy gathered from the heavens themselves. This time, the light burned silver, sharp, elegant, controlled.

A serpent coiled into existence. More applause, more approval, more quiet judgments forming in the minds of those watching.

Kael exhaled slowly, folding his arms as the ceremony continued. One after another, beasts emerged: wolves of frost, hawks wreathed in flame, creatures bound in lightning and shadow.

Each summoning carved a deeper divide between those destined for greatness and those who would live in the margins of the world, and Kael knew exactly where he stood. “Kael Virex.”

His name struck the air harder than expected, not because of its importance, but because of the laughter that followed. It started small, barely contained chuckles from the noble stands but quickly spread, blooming into open ridicule. “Well, this should be entertaining.

“Didn’t expect they’d let him participate.”

“Watch closely. Failure has its own kind of spectacle.”

Kael did not react immediately. He stepped forward only after a breath, his boots echoing faintly against the polished stone as he moved toward the platform.

Each step felt measured, deliberate, not hesitant but not entirely steady either. At the centre of the ritual circle, he paused. The air here felt different, heavy-charged.

The runes beneath his feet pulsed faintly, as if recognising him or rejecting him. He couldn’t tell which. “Place your hand on the core,” an elder instructed, his tone already laced with disinterest.

Kael obeyed. The moment his fingers brushed the crystalline sphere embedded at the circle’s centre, the world shifted. Energy surged upward not gently, not gloriously, but violently, like something forced awake against its will.

The sky above darkened, not gradually, but abruptly. A ripple passed through the crowd as murmurs replaced laughter. “That’s… unusual.”

“Why is the light unstable?”

The summoning energy twisted, warping into something uneven and fractured. Instead of the radiant gold or pure silver seen before, Kael’s summoning flickered between dim hues, faint, sickly, incomplete.

Then it collapsed. The light imploded inward, vanishing in a hollow gasp of energy that left the circle dim and lifeless. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the laughter returned Louder Crueler. “Nothing?”

“Not even a low-grade beast?”

“I’ve seen stray animals with more presence than that!”

Kael’s hand remained on the core longer than necessary. He felt it. Something Not absence Not failure Something… wrong. “Step aside,” the elder said, already turning away. “The ritual is complete.”

“It’s not,” Kael replied quietly.

The words barely carried, but they were enough. The elder’s gaze snapped back, irritation flashing across his face. “Do not embarrass yourself further.”

Kael lifted his hand slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the dimmed circle. There was a pulse, faint, irregular, but real. “I felt it,” he said, more firmly now.

A ripple of amusement spread through the nobles. “Of course you did.”

“Desperation makes people imagine things.”

“Let him try again,” someone added mockingly. “Perhaps he can summon his pride.”

The elder hesitated not out of belief, but out of calculation. Public humiliation, after all, was a powerful lesson. “Very well,” he said at last. “One more attempt.”

The runes flickered weakly as Kael placed his hand back onto the core. This time, he closed his eyes. He did not reach outward. He listened inward.

The energy responded differently. It did not surge. It resisted. Something deep within the summoning space recoiled not from fear, but from rejection, as though it had already been discarded.

Kael’s breath slowed. “There you are…” he murmured.

Then—A crack. Not in the air. In the space itself, a jagged tear of dim, fractured light split open just above the circle, and something fell through it. Not descended. Fell. It hit the ground with a dull, lifeless sound. No light followed. No aura. No presence. Just… a creature, small, emaciated.

Its body was barely held together, its form indistinct as if it could not decide what it was meant to be. Its skin flickered faintly between textures, unstable, unfinished. Its breathing was shallow, uneven, dying.

Silence spread across the plaza. Not the earlier kind. This one carried confusion and disappointment. Then— “...A defect.”

The word came from one of the elders, spoken with quiet disgust. Understanding rippled outward instantly. “Impossible…”

“They still exist? I thought they were all purged.”

Kael stared at the creature. It did not move toward him. It did not acknowledge him. It simply lay there, as if waiting for something to end. “This is unacceptable,” another elder declared. “Defective summons are to be terminated immediately.”

A guard stepped forward without hesitation, drawing his blade. Kael moved before he fully understood why. “Stop.”

The single word cut through the moment. The guard paused not out of obedience, but surprise. “That thing is unstable,” the elder snapped. “It will not survive. Nor should it.”

Kael’s gaze never left the creature. “It hasn’t even been given a chance.”

Laughter returned again, but this time, it carried a sharper edge. “Listen to him.”

“He wants to keep it?”

“A defect and a failure. Perfect match.”

The elder’s expression hardened. “Stand aside, Kael. You do not have the authority to interfere.”

For a brief moment, Kael hesitated. Not out of fear, but out of realisation. This was the moment, the one that would define everything after. He looked down at the creature again.

And for the first time, it looked back. Its eyes were not bright. Not powerful, but they were not empty either. There was something buried there. Something restrained. Something… waiting.

Kael exhaled slowly, then stepped forward. “I form a pact.”

The plaza erupted. “You dare?!”

“Has he lost his mind?”

“That thing will kill him!”

The elder’s voice cut through the chaos. “You will die.”

Kael did not respond. He knelt and placed his hand on the creature. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then Pain Not physical Not entirely It flooded through him like a memory that wasn’t his fragments of hunger, silence, isolation… something ancient pressing against the edges of his mind.

The creature’s body convulsed. The bond ignited, not with light, but with darkness. A thin, fractured mark spread across Kael’s arm, pulsing faintly as if alive.

The creature let out a sound, not a roar, not a cry. Something quieter, something deeper. The air shifted Subtly But undeniably. The elders felt it.

Even the crowd, lost in their mockery, began to falter. “That… shouldn’t be possible,” one whispered.

Kael staggered slightly as the bond settled. The pain faded, but the presence remained. Not separate, not entirely his, something in between. He looked down again.

The creature had stopped trembling. Its breathing had steadied. Its form… stabilized Only slightly, but enough. “Interesting,” a voice murmured from the noble stands. Not loud, but it carried.

A man stood, his expression unreadable. “Very interesting.”

Kael didn’t know why, but those words felt heavier than all the laughter combined. The elder stepped forward, his tone colder now. “You have made your choice. Do not expect protection from its consequences.”

Kael rose slowly, his gaze steady. “I never did.”

The ceremony continued, but something had changed. Not in the eyes of the crowd, they still saw failure. They still saw weakness. They still saw a mistake, but beneath that, something else had begun. Unseen, Unspoken, and far from understood.

As Kael turned to leave the platform, the mark on his arm pulsed once Faint Hungry And high above the city, far beyond the sight of those gathered below, the clouds shifted just for a moment.

As if something had noticed.