The pridormial beast of ash

The gods do not look at trash, Ethan, so you had better make them stare.

Those were the last words Ethan’s father had told him before the fever took him. Standing at the edge of the Sky Reach Arena, the weight of that memory nearly crushed his ribs. The air smelled of burnt ozone and expensive perfume, a sickening mixture that belonged entirely to the elite families sitting in the high boxes. Below them, thirty thousand citizens cheered until their throats bled, waiting for the next miracle.

"Look at him go," someone whispered in the queue behind Ethan. "That is the third S Rank this morning. The Crest family is truly blessed."

Up on the golden platform, Asher Crest stood with his chin tilted toward the sky. Above him, a magnificent beast tore through the summoning veil. Its feathers were spun from pure silver, and arcs of jagged violet lightning danced across its massive wingspan. It was an S Rank Lightning Griffin. It screeched, a sound that shook the dust from the stadium rafters, and the crowd went completely feral.

"Behold the future of our city!" High Elder Ronald’s voice boomed through the amplification arrays, dripping with pride. "The Crest family continues to lead us into glory. Step down, young master Asher. Your place at the right hand of the empire is assured."

Asher walked off the stage, his eyes sweeping over the remaining candidates until they locked onto Ethan. He paused, a cruel, mocking smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Try not to trip on your own robe, Vance," Asher murmured as he passed, loud enough for the surrounding guards to chuckle. "We would hate for you to disappoint your dead parents any more than you already have."

Ethan clenched his fists so hard his nails bit into his palms, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. He did not say a word. He couldn't. His throat felt like sandpaper.

"Next," the master of ceremonies shouted. "Ethan Vance. Step forward to the catalyst stone."

The whispers started the moment his boots hit the marble steps. Ethan was the last of the Vance line, a family that had once produced legendary tamers before falling into absolute poverty. The expectations were a physical, suffocating weight. He closed his eyes, pressed his palms against the glowing blue crystal at the center of the platform, and poured every ounce of his soul energy into the array.

"Come on," Ethan prayed silently, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Just give me a chance to fight."

The summoning circle flared. But it wasn't the brilliant gold of the elites or the steady blue of the commoners. The light turned a violent, sickening crimson. The stone beneath his feet groaned. A sharp hairline fracture split the center of the platform, and the energy began to fluctuate wildly, humming with a pitch so high it made Ethan’s ears bleed.

"What is happening?" an elder shouted from the high balcony. "Stop the array! It is going to detonate!"

"No, wait!" Ethan cried out, leaning harder into the stone despite the searing pain burning up his arms. "I can control it! Just give it a second!"

The light died instantly, collapsing inward with a pathetic, muffled pop.

The stadium fell into absolute, dead silence. The grand, violent energy was gone, leaving behind nothing but a thin wisp of grey smoke. And there, at the center of the cracked platform, lay the result of Ethan’s lifelong anticipation.

It was barely the size of a newborn pup. It had no fur, no feathers, and no majestic scales. It was a wrinkled, pale, lizard-like thing, its skin translucent enough to see its tiny, fragile ribs shuddering with every breath. It looked like a hairless mole rat that had been dragged out of a swamp to die.

"Is that… a joke?" a voice shouted from the front row.

Then, the laughter came. It started as a ripple in the lower stands and quickly grew into a roaring wave of pure, unadulterated mockery that filled the entire arena.

"A defect!" Someone yelled. "The great Vance family birthed a literal maggot!"

"Look at it! It cannot even lift its head!" another voice mocked. "It is going to die in five minutes!"

Ethan stared down at the creature, his breath hitching. The world around him seemed to lose all its color. He looked up at the high balcony, searching for his uncle, for anyone from his extended family who had promised to support him. His uncle met his gaze for a fraction of a second before turning his back completely, striking up a casual conversation with a wealthy merchant next to him.

They had abandoned him. Just like that. In less than ten seconds, his social standing had dropped below the dirt.

High Elder Ronald stepped to the edge of the balcony, his face twisted in disgust. "This ceremony is meant to honor the gods, not showcase genetic waste. The boy’s spiritual roots are entirely corrupted."

"Elder, please," Ethan said, his voice cracking as he took a step toward the balcony. "Let me try again. The energy shifted, I know I can—"

"Silence!" Ronald snapped, his voice cutting through the arena like a whip. "You have wasted our time and defiled this sacred platform. The beast possesses no combat rating. Its lifespan is practically nonexistent. It is a biological error."

Asher Crest laughed out loud from the elite waiting area. "I told you not to trip, Vance. But I did not think you would bring a corpse to the party."

"Get him off the stage," the master of ceremonies ordered, waving his hand dismissively toward the guards. "And take that disgusting piece of filth out to the disposal pits. We have real tamers waiting."

Two heavily armored guards stepped onto the platform, their heavy iron boots clanking against the marble. One of them drew a long, curved blade meant for slaughtering failed summons.

"Wait, no!" Ethan stepped in front of the tiny creature, his heart hammering against his ribs. "You cannot just kill it! It is alive!"

"Get out of the way, kid," the guard with the blade muttered, his expression completely indifferent. "The laws are clear. Defects are executed immediately to preserve the city’s genetic purity. Do not make us remove you by force."

"He is not a defect!" Ethan yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. His mind was racing, panic turning into a cold, dark desperation. He looked down at the tiny lizard. It was trembling violently, its large, milky grey eyes looking up at him through the smoke. It wasn't fighting back. It wasn't growling. It was just scared. It was completely alone, exactly like him.

"Move," the second guard growled, grabbing Ethan’s shoulder with a crushing grip and shoving him backward.

Ethan stumbled, his boots skidding across the cracked stone. The guard raised the heavy blade, aiming it straight down at the creature’s tiny, exposed neck. The crowd cheered, waiting for the blood to spray.

In that split second, something inside Ethan snapped. If he let them kill this creature, he was letting them kill the last piece of his own humanity. He was letting them win.

"No!" Ethan screamed.

He didn't think. He didn't calculate the consequences. He lunged forward, throwing his entire body over the shivering lizard just as the blade began its descent. The guard pulled back at the last possible microsecond, cursing loudly as Ethan slammed his chest onto the hard stone, shielding the tiny life beneath him.

"Are you insane?" the guard roared, raising his boot to kick Ethan off. "You are committing a capital offense!"

Ethan didn't listen. He drove his teeth deep into his own thumb, biting down until the copper taste of blood filled his mouth. He ripped his hand away, his thumb dripping crimson, and slammed it directly onto the tiny, wrinkled forehead of the creature beneath him.

"By the law of the ancient code," Ethan gasped, his voice raw, his blood smearing across the creature's pale skin, "I claim this life as my own! I bind my flesh to its flesh, my soul to its soul!"

"What is he doing?" High Elder Ronald shrieked from the balcony, his face turning purple with rage. "Stop him! Break his hands!"

The crowd went into an absolute frenzy. Tamers did not bind themselves to defects. To do so meant tying your own lifespan and spiritual energy to a dying creature. It was a suicide pact.

The guards rushed forward, their heavy hands grabbing Ethan’s jacket, tearing the fabric as they tried to drag him away.

"Ancient contract, open!" Ethan roared against the stone, ignoring the hands ripping at his clothes.

A sudden, unnatural chill swept through the entire Sky Reach Arena. The wind stopped. The mocking laughter in the stands died instantly as a low, ominous vibration began to hum from the very deep center of the earth. The blood on the creature’s forehead did not sink in. Instead, it began to glow with a dark, abyssal light that turned the bright afternoon sky into pure, ink-black shadow