The day came faster than expected.

  The morning light crawled across the mountain peak, warm against the frost-kissed stone. I sat in silence, legs crossed, watching the clouds drift lazily below. The Guardian stood a few paces behind me, his usual calm expression giving little away.

  “It’s time,” he said simply.

  I nodded. No ceremony, no grand speech, just quiet understanding.

  The air shimmered as he raised a hand. A faint hum rippled through the atmosphere, and the scent of ozone filled my lungs. The ground beneath me pulsed once, twice, and then the world folded.

  It wasn’t falling, not exactly. More like being stretched through a line of lightning, every nerve buzzing as I slipped between two moments of time. The wind tore around me, but there was no pain, no weight, only the flicker of light and thunder humming somewhere deep in my chest.

  When I opened my eyes, I was balled up in the middle of a horse stable near the town square, quite literally in a pile of hay. For prickly hay, it sure was hot.

  “Why does it smell like smoke?” I murmured, my vision still blurry.

  After a few blinks, I looked down to find the spot beneath me was literally on fire, most likely from the lightning sparks.

  I quickly pulsed my core and circulated mana from my chest through my body to my hands. Frost spread across my palms, mist fighting against the natural heat. I frantically patted the small burn spot, not wanting to burn the entire stable down.

  “Damn old man,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  At least I seemed not to have scared the horses. I climbed out and brushed myself off, taking a few deep breaths to gather my bearings. I recognized where I was almost instantly. Seems the walk with Father and Sir Darvish through the town had paid off.

  The midday sun painted the cobblestone in shades of gold. Children ran through the streets, merchants shouted over prices, and the scent of baked bread drifted from the nearby market. Everything was so normal. So alive.

  Somewhere nearby, a bard plucked at a mana-threaded lute, its strings glowing faintly with light. The tune mixed with the chatter of buyers and the rhythmic clang of a distant forge, where sparks rose like fireflies. The air carried the scent of cinnamon and heated metal, a reminder that this town, for all its peace and northern hardships, still thrived on both craft and community.

  I took a step forward, the hum of mana still dancing faintly under my skin. The Guardian had kept his promise: no grand entrance, no thunderclap. The only sign of my arrival was the mess of hay. Hopefully the horses were not picky eaters today.

  “Subtle,” I murmured to myself.

  I casually strolled through the town, still in my adventurer’s garb from when I left with Father and Sir Darvish. I walked slowly, watching how my co-residents lived, their interactions and smiles, their grievances and complaints about some kid my age stealing an apple, or the lack of wandering traders the North always seemed to struggle with.

  It took almost an hour to find my way back to the perimeter of our estate. A gate guard noticed and recognized me almost immediately. I requested my father to escort me to the city square. The sun was high, and the Ascension Ceremony would begin soon.

  My father came walking briskly, flanked on both shoulders by my mother with a wooden stick in one hand and Sir Darvish, whose eyes were dark and tired. My father did not look much better.

  I gave my mother a sheepish smile. It did not help.

  “Lance Loren! How dare you make us worry sick about you and just show up on the most important day of your young life!” Mother was not pleased.

  I spent the next several minutes recounting the events that had taken place after my father left, choosing to leave out a few details like my encounter within my soul space. I assured my parents that today would go smoothly, and that they had nothing to worry about. After the celebration, we could sit down as a family once more.

  Now, my main focus was on the Ascension.

  The Loren family walked with heads held high toward the town square. Having a positive relationship with the citizens meant many men and women came to speak with my parents, which was normal.

  The square was buzzing with activity, temporary food stands set up to take advantage of the crowd. The Ascension Altar at the center pulsed faintly, drawing threads of ambient mana from the air like a quiet heartbeat. Children my age looked timid, hugging their parents’ pant legs or stuttering while talking to their friends. I could not blame them. I was sure if I were normal, I would be just as nervous.

  I stood close to my parents. To be quite honest, this was a lot for me too. I had spent most of my past life either working or staying behind closed doors, playing games or watching shows. This life, while vastly different, still lacked sociability. Mostly because of my intensive training and my parents’ obsession with hiding my peculiarities. Pretending to be a nervous ten-year-old still attached to his parents’ side was the perfect cover.

  While we gathered on time, I learned that the actual process did not take very long, especially in an area as outskirtish as ours. Exceptions existed for truly gifted children, but most were quick: blessed by the System, they read their interface and moved to the next in line. So, while the sun was high in the sky, the town took time to celebrate the joyous day, socializing and taking off work.

  I noticed two men walking together toward my father, immediately grabbing his attention. They were dressed in travel attire. While finer than what a field worker would wear, their clothes still bore signs of wear. Swords hung at their hips. Some might have mistaken them for simple adventurers.

  My father waved them closer, stepping aside with a smile. Within seconds, he turned to me.

  “Lance, come meet our village heads.”

  Oh? These must have been the two respective village heads near our town. I understood their attire now. Father always said the two village heads were the pillars of the North’s outer ring — men who held their people through frost and famine alike and supporting my father. They were also excellent contributors to our man-power effort in the milita effort and mountain Mining.

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  “Hello, I am Lance Loren. It is a pleasure to meet such esteemed acquaintances of my father.” I held my hand out for a shake, one of the few familiar gestures from my old world.

  They both reached out and shook my hand.

  “Oho, if I did not know any better, your young boy talks like an old man, Lars!” The one who spoke first was Scar. Ominous name for such an innocent-looking man. He had a pale line running down his left cheek, a mark that pulled slightly when he smiled. Despite the name, his eyes were kind, the sort that belonged to a man used to laughter more than war.

  The second man’s name was Andrei. He looked broader, his sleeves rolled high to his elbows, forearms marked with the kind of calluses only labor or leadership could give. His presence carried a quiet confidence that steadied the noise around him.

  “Oh, do not listen to that old man, young one. He jests. Come, meet our sons.”

  Andrei waved his hand, brushing Scar’s comment aside, and turned to their wives, making room for their two sons to squeeze by the men’s legs.

  The young boys came face to face with me, both looking more excited than nervous. They held out their hands, introducing themselves.

  Andrei’s son, Aoife, spoke quickly, his words tumbling out. “Lance! Aren’t you just over the moon? We are finally going through the Ascension Ceremony!”

  He practically bounced with joy. I gave a slight smile. “Yes, I am quite excited myself. I have heard about the System for so long. I am happy to see it for myself.”

  Scar’s son, Slade, interjected as soon as I finished speaking. “Isn’t it so annoying we aren’t allowed to know much about it until we go through it ourselves?”

  He waved his hands in frustration, clearly not fond of unanswered questions.

  Our small talk continued, with my mother entertaining my newfound friends’ mothers. We talked about the System, their respective villages, and other small things until we noticed the System Priest moving from his carriage.

  The crowd’s murmur dimmed as the priest approached, his white and gold robes glimmering faintly under the sun. He carried a crystalline staff that pulsed in rhythm with the mana-laced air. The storm inside me stirred in response, my Lightning Lens revealing mana streams converging toward the relic at his side like threads of fate drawn taut.

  Joy, excitement, community, and anticipation filled the air. The ambient mana was stirring, and my Lightning Lens made it clear that it was being concentrated toward the artifact held close to the System Priest. Speaking of, while I have read of such people these System Priests seemed quite odd. The book described them as devout beings. Their eyes are blinded by the system when they undergo the Priest ascension ritual. Negating the worldly temptations. Our specific priest seemed to wear a leather wrap around his eyes, eerily enough he seemed to find me whenever I took a peek at him.

  Priests are an anomaly within this world. Designated by the system but never forced. They are given the option and have to consent to undergo a separate Priest ritual when they come of age. They operate outside of the Lascara Family, while heavily intertwined for obvious reasons as they control the entire ascension process. Their specifics in power progression and just how powerful they are politically was not something our small library covered.

  Lost in thought, I overhead a small girl getting ready to line up for the ascension ceremony, “Mommmy I really really hope I get a bond! How cool and strong would I be with a System bond!”

  Wow, this was something I didn't know about? I turned towards my father and it seems he was observing me and when I turned he chuckled, "Don't get too excited son, System Bonds are Rare even in the Duke Cities and Capital. They are Animals gifted directly from the Ascension, nestled within your Core and come from many different realms.” I can't lie and say I still hope to get one, I mean it did sound absolutely amazing having a life companion.

  Mother chimed in, “I have only seen a few in my life and that is because of my elven lineage. Your father, even with how powerful he is, has only seen 1, and it was a Lizard.” She gave a teasing smile. “Yes, well that ‘Lizard’ could take out a tiny village without straining itself. Scaring things, Bonds, especially if they are fully grown.”

  “You’re saying even something small can be that strong?” I asked, half in disbelief.

  Father gave a knowing nod. “Strength has little to do with size when mana writes your bones and blood

  I took all this new information in, clearly we didn't have any books in our library about this. “Whats the difference between a normal bond and a System bond?” My father turned back to me, “A system bond can grow with the user, its only limit based on its user as its life force is intertwined with the person's soul. The day the System blesses a user with a core, is the same day its gifts the person a life companion.” My mother added at the end, “A sacred pact between Man and Creature.”

  My Father Continued, “This is not to say a normal bond is not special as well. The main difference between a system bond and normal bond with a creature is its potential, a System bond is based on its user, a normal bond is capped at its biological factors such as lineage, bloodline, Mana compatibility etc.” taking a deep breath at the end of his explanation.

  Mother’s expression softened. “Still, do not forget, Lance. A bond, System or not, reflects its master’s heart. A cruel soul will raise a beast that mirrors it.”

  I blinked at that, unsure if she was teasing or warning me. “So… if I’m nice, I get a cute one?”

  Father snorted. “Or a very polite monster

  A long winded explanation, but a needed one. The implications behind the power difference between a System bond and a normal bond seemed very large. Especially if the user with a system bond was also a prodigy,,, scary.

  Anyhow, based on what my father said, my only experience with them will be in books and dreams for now. I shuffled away from my parents and got in line, promptly placing in last place.. Whats that old saying? Save the best for last.

  As the line formed, the hum of mana around the altar grew stronger. The air itself seemed to thrum with life, the faint outlines of spectral eyes flickering in the sunlight like reflections on water. I could not tell if it was my imagination, or if the System was already watching

  _________________________________

  Excerpt from the Codex of Aurath, Fifth Fragment — On the Bonds of Soul and Beast

  “When man first touched the Flow, he did so not in solitude.

  In the stillness between creation’s heartbeats, the First Bonds were shaped—

  soul calling to soul, life answering life.

  These companions were not merely beasts of sinew and fang,

  but living echoes of intent, reflections born from the truest depths of a spirit.”

  “To bind through the System is to entwine two destinies into a single strand.

  Its suffering shall resound within your bones,

  and your triumph shall set fire to its blood.

  When the bearer’s resolve fractures, the Bond too shall decay,

  for no union endures where faith has been broken.”

  “Remember this, seeker of the Weave:

  A Bond is not dominion, but communion.

  It answers not to command, but to certainty of heart.

  Should your path waver, the Bond will be the first to withdraw,

  for even the purest mana cannot shackle the will of another soul.”