As each Pack member finished absorbing their scroll, the parchment in their hands, paws, or jaws crumbled away to dust, the runes fading as if they’d never been.

  Pixie zapped a spark between her paws and grinned. “THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN.”

  As the energy from the scroll settled through the Pack, their affinities came alive for the first time. Sparks jumped from Pixie’s fur, crackling with bright, static pops every time she shifted. She spun in a tight circle, tail a blur. “STORM MAGIC!” she howled, absolutely delighted. “CAN I TRY FOR LIGHTNING NEXT?”

  Aldric grinned. “Not too close to Buster. Last thing we need is a fried wild dog.”

  Buster tried his nature magic, eyes narrowed in concentration. All that happened was a clump of wildflowers bursting to life at his feet. He stared at them in horror as Pixie snickered. “Seriously?” Buster grumbled.

  Aldric pointed at the nearest dummy. “Try and trap or tie up that dummy.”

  Buster squared his shoulders and focused. This time, thick green vines erupted from the ground directly beneath the dummy, snaking up and around its legs, winding higher until the whole thing was tangled in a living net.

  “Good,” Aldric said, nodding. “Now grow thorns.”

  Buster’s jaw set. He grunted, and the vines thickened, sprouting long, razor-sharp thorns all along their length. But as the last vine curled into place, the bramble erupted in a burst of color—beautiful, ridiculous flowers blooming everywhere, bright as parade flags.

  Pixie burst out laughing. “YOU’RE STILL A FLOWER DOG!”

  Buster scowled at the dummy, now half menace and half wild bouquet. “One day, I’m going to figure out how to skip the blossoms,” he muttered.

  Pixie bounced from paw to paw, sparks still fizzing along her fur. “MY TURN!” she shouted.

  Aldric pointed at another dummy. “Show us what you can do, storm pup.”

  Pixie crouched low, static crackling along her shoulders and tail. She focused, letting the new lightning magic build inside her—then released it all at once. Electricity snapped through her muscles, launching her across the training floor in a blur. She slammed into the dummy with a crackling yip, lightning arcing from her fur into the straw, and bounded off the other side in one quick, twitchy motion.

  The dummy rocked in place, singed and sparking.

  Pixie landed, tail buzzing, grinning wide, which looked like a crazy snarl. “STUN GUN!”

  It still made Ethan’s shoulders tense for a split second. Joy or not, too many teeth on a dog never looked friendly to human instincts. Some emotions didn’t translate cleanly across species—dogs’ faces simply weren’t built to smile.

  Buster snorted. “Show-off.”

  Pixie just wiggled, still buzzing with leftover energy. “AGAIN?”

  Aldric chuckled. “Give the dummies a minute to recover first.”

  Moose watched the last of the scroll dust drift from his paws, uncertain but focused. Aldric called him forward. “Let’s see what you can do with earth magic, Moose. Don’t force it—just reach for the feeling you got from the scroll and see what comes.”

  Moose dug his claws into the ground and closed his eyes, ears flicking with effort. The floor seemed to press up against his paws, solid and reassuring. He tensed—then relaxed—and something shifted. His fur darkened along his shoulders and flanks, taking on a rough, almost rocky texture. Where his paws pressed down, the ground dimpled slightly, like it was soft clay under his weight.

  Pixie darted up and tapped his side. Her paw bounced off with a hollow thunk. “YOU’RE LIKE A WALL!”

  Moose opened one eye, surprised, then gave a little huff. “I feel… heavy. Strong.”

  Aldric grinned. “That’s earth skin. Try to move while you’re holding it.”

  Moose took a slow step forward, the effect fading a little with each motion, then focused again and felt the weight return. He stamped once, and a faint vibration ran through the ground.

  Aldric’s approval was obvious. “Perfect. The more you practice, the longer you’ll be able to hold it, and the more of the earth you’ll be able to pull around you. This is just the start.”

  Lyra, focus tight, let a tongue of foxfire leap from her hand—first blue, then gold, then purple, never holding to one shade for long. Aldric watched, fascinated. “Never the same twice, is it?”

  “Wouldn’t be foxfire if it was,” Lyra said with a sly smile.

  Amelia, shy, tested her shadow magic, letting the light dim and blur around her until she looked like she’d stepped into dusk. She pressed closer to Lyra, eyes wide and amazed at the way darkness curled at her paws.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Ethan, for a moment, felt a thousand possibilities rush through his mind—a sense of shifting doors, and a tingling warmth up his arm as the arcane energy hummed quietly, waiting to see what he would do with it.

  Pixie, still sparking, danced in a tight little circle and flashed a grin at Buster. “Does this mean I can make storms now?”

  “Only if you practice,” Aldric said, “and don’t burn down my Guild Hall.”

  Buster gave a mock bow. “No promises.”

  Moose grunted his approval and settled in with quiet pride. Amelia, still ringed in gentle shadow, pressed closer to Lyra, who ruffled her ears gently. Ethan glanced around at the Pack—charged, changed, and more themselves than ever before.

  “Wow, those scrolls are something else,” Ethan said, flexing his fingers as the last tingling sensation faded.

  Aldric nodded in agreement. “They don’t hand those out to just anyone. Gwenna jumped through a lot of hoops to get you access. Mabel’s probably buried in paperwork right now—she’ll be collecting favors from Gwenna for months after this.”

  Pixie, still buzzing with static, snickered. “Bet Gwenna’s going to owe Mabel a lot after this.”

  Aldric chuckled. “That’s Guild life for you—nothing comes free, especially not from Mabel. The things I’ve had to do to—” He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Well. Let’s just say, Mabel collects her debts in creative ways.”

  The Pack spent the next few hours running drills, sparring, and testing their new abilities under Aldric’s sharp-eyed instruction. Skills began to pop up, one after another—[Hand-to-Hand Combat], [Sneak], all beginner level, except Amelia, who slipped so easily from shadow to shadow that the system awarded her [Sneak—Intermediate] on the spot. Pixie, restless as ever, was the only one to unlock [Swift], dashing between dummies and Packmates like a bolt of lightning. Moose’s patience and steady form earned him [Tough], while Buster, never one to pass up an advantage, managed [Strong].

  By the time Aldric finally called a halt, the Pack was sprawled across the training floor—sweaty, panting, and grinning, with tongues lolling and tails thumping. Even Moose looked pleased, while Pixie flopped on her side, still buzzing with leftover sparks. They’d left the hall stronger, more coordinated, and flush with new skills—a truly productive day.

  Before they could make it out the door, Aldric waved them over and led the Pack down a quieter hallway to his office—a spacious, cluttered room lined with old maps, half-drunk mugs of tea, and a stack of damp towels ready on a low table. He opened a window to let in the cool evening air, set out a tray with cold drinks and sweet bread, and gestured for everyone to sit or sprawl where they liked.

  “Cool off,” he said. “You’ve earned it. There’s more to talk about before you head out.”

  While the Pack lapped up water and nibbled at the snacks, Aldric cleaned his hands and lowered his voice. “We’ve been watching for the source of the corruption. Most of it traces back to the old sewers, but lately, I’m worried about the city guard. Their behavior’s changed. Orders from above, weird patrol patterns, and the Guard Captain hasn’t shown his face in days. He was never friendly, but this is different.”

  He looked from Ethan to Lyra, then back at the rest of the Pack. “If there’s a source inside the city’s power structure—someone with authority letting things slide or feeding the problem—it’s going to be even harder to root out. Gwenna’s been poking at it, but Mabel’s run up against stone walls every time she tries to pull records.”

  Pixie licked her muzzle, ears twitching. “So the bad stuff’s coming from inside the house?”

  Aldric gave a wry, tired smile. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  He poured another round of water and passed a damp towel to Amelia. She blinked at it, trying to nudge it with her paw, but only managed to get her nose wet. Lyra knelt beside her and gently took over, dabbing Amelia’s ears and face with practiced care while the cub sat perfectly still, eyes wide and content.

  “Keep your eyes open,” Aldric said, meeting Ethan’s gaze. “If you see guards acting strange, or hear about the Captain turning up again, let me know right away. The city’s got enough problems without corruption spreading from the top down.”

  Just then, there was a knock at the office door. Gwenna popped her head in, hair a little tousled and eyes sharp as ever.

  Aldric spotted her and waved her in. “Come on, Gwenna. Good timing.”

  She slipped inside, giving the Pack a quick once-over—a smile tugging at her mouth when she spotted the half-empty tray and Amelia getting her ears dried by Lyra. “Looks like I missed the fun.”

  “Fun is one word for it,” Aldric said dryly. “They did well. Better than most first-timers I’ve seen.”

  He caught Gwenna up on the day’s training—how the Pack handled the basics, unlocked more skills than expected, and discovered their elemental affinities. As Gwenna listened, she nodded, clearly pleased.

  “And I was just about to bring Ethan up to speed on what we’ve been seeing in the city,” Aldric finished, shifting to make space for her. “If you want to stick around, I’d appreciate the backup.”

  Gwenna pulled up a chair, settling in. “Wouldn’t miss it. The more eyes, the better.”

  After the debrief, Gwenna turned to Ethan, lowering her voice just enough to make it personal. “Tomorrow morning, head to the Academy and ask for Professor Tahl. He’s expecting you—gave his word you’ll have guest access to the library and any classes that catch your interest. Don’t be afraid to poke around. If you need a guide, tell them you’re a guest of the college, under my name.”

  Ethan nodded, committing the details to memory. “Professor Tahl. Guest access. Got it.”

  “Trust your instincts,” Gwenna added, her smile more tired than usual. “Just don’t start any fires in the lecture hall.”

  A few more instructions followed—who to talk to at the front desk, which buildings to avoid, and how to spot an academy runner if Ethan got lost. When it was all said and done, Aldric thanked the Pack and sent them off with one last reminder to stay alert.

  The walk back to the Silver Thorn felt quieter than usual. The city lights glimmered, and the air smelled of bread and distant rain. By the time they reached the inn, everyone was dragging their paws or boots, barely keeping their eyes open.

  Dinner was quick and heavy—Tamri had left out thick stew, fresh bread, and a mountain of honeycakes. Nobody spoke much beyond the clatter of spoons and the occasional satisfied sigh. The Pack made it upstairs on autopilot, each collapsing into their beds or favored corners.

  Ethan forced himself to turn out a few bits and pieces before sleep finally claimed him, the faint glow of new currency the last thing he saw. Once that task was done, it took only minutes for the room to fill with the soft, contented breathing of a team that had finally earned their rest.