The next morning came with the smell of rain that had fallen throughout the night. Our front door was brand new. Bob fixed us up a new one in an afternoon for a modest charge. We left before sunrise. That was fine. After everything, the morning silence suited our mood.

  The road to Galepass wound north through low hills and stubborn fog. Most days were slow: carts creaking past, the clatter of hooves, Keagan’s humming when he thought I wasn’t listening. The fields along side us rolled by in long bands of green. The air was full of gnats and masquitoes. Keagan sat high on my back, doing me the favor of crushing the bloodsucking pests when they landed on me.

  He didn’t talk much, but sometimes he’d go quiet mid-sentence and stare at the treeline until the wind distracted him. He was better now—still quiet, still heavy-eyed, but he remembered to eat without being told.

  I didn’t mind the monotony. After the lang ren, stillness felt like mercy. I could heal, watch the sky for stormbirds, and make sure the kid didn’t trip over his own thoughts. By the time the first stone towers of Galepass appeared, both of us were still breathing, and that was enough.

  The journey took three days: the first through farmland, the next along a flooded trade road where we helped push a merchant’s wagon free, and the last through mountain switchbacks where we followed the base. I didn’t mind the dull rhythm; every step away from the town felt like a slow exhale.

  When the valley finally opened and Galepass came into view. Several spires cut from granite, banners snapping in the wind, and the roar of a crowd already gathering for the tournament. I realized the boy had stopped humming. He was grinning.

  The town was nothing like the capital, but it wasn’t any less enthusiastic about the upcoming festivities. It was built against the mountainside, its lower districts clung to the base as if to support the main plateau. Houses leaned against each other in cheerful disarray, painted in deep blues and reds. The smell of roasting nuts and coal smoke filled the air, carried on the sharp alpine wind. Somewhere above us, the metallic clamor of a blacksmith’s hammer echoed between stone walls.

  Tournament flags were everywhere, fluttering in bright ribbons of orange and teal from balconies and lamp posts For a mining town, it had the spirit of a festival.

  “It looks bigger than I thought,” Keagan said, craning his neck as we climbed the cobblestone streets.

  “This town stinks almost as bad as the capitol.” I scrunched my nose. “ Burning coal and metallic slag—not an appetizing duo.”

  He snorted. “You always say towns stink.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  The boy ran his fingers behind my ears. “Yeah, yeah; you smell an entire world I can't.”

  The line to the arena wound halfway around it. The administrative hall,a circular stone building with polished copper doors and a carved relief of two monsters clashing over a mountain peak, sat next to it. Thankfully, there was a separate entrance for competitors. We wandered into the center of the arena.

  Inside, the air buzzed with conversation and the sharp scent of ink and sealing wax. Runners with green armbands darted between rows of wooden seats. Behind a table, a clerk, who looked like she hadn't slept in days, processed new entries.

  We waited our turn behind a sand-scaled drake and their trainer with more jewelry than sense. Keagan held our documents like they were sacred relics.

  When our turn came, he placed them down carefully. “Keagan Bramble,” he said, voice steady. “This is Lucia.”

  The clerk didn’t look up from her ledger. “Rank E?”

  “Yup!” He was beaming, though I could tell, it was forced.

  Keagan pointed to the stamped sheet. “Registered by Lily Arcten of the Association.”

  That got her attention. Her pen froze for a moment, then resumed. “Oh, you're that pair. Very well.” She nodded to a guy bounding on his toes off to the side. “Please follow him and wait until everything is ready.”

  Then came the bureaucracy. We were escorted through a narrow side hallway where someone from the Association waited with a frown that looked permanent.

  “Standard safety inspection,” he said. “No contraband, enchanted trinkets, or concealed weapons allowed within the arena.”

  I bared my fangs. “Just don't get grabby with the tail and everyone goes home with all their fingers.”

  He hesitated, then gestured to a second person behind me. “Search her.”

  The second worker, a woman, approached cautiously, hands trembling slightly. She circled me once, then again, her eyes darting to my fur. She then started combing through it, starting from my neck.

  “Do I look like I could hide a weapon in there?” I asked. “I get it, you have to check, but seriously, what for?”

  I didn't get an answer. Keagan tried, and failed, to stifle his laughter as the woman gingerly patted along my flank.

  “She’s clean,” she said quickly, stepping back as if I might bite.

  The first guy gave a curt nod and handed Keagan a brass token stamped with the Association’s insignia. “Team token. Don’t lose it. You’ll need it for entry.”

  Keagan held it up between his thumb and pointer finger. “Remember, three wins and we guarantee our spot in the rank up tournament.”

  I guess it's time to see if this higher rank has any new challenges.

  We were seeded first, so our match was up first.

  The arena itself sat on the upper plateau. It was a broad stone coliseum cut into the mountain’s face. It wasn’t huge; maybe a thousand spectators at most. But it felt larger. Wooden bleachers circled upward for everyone to watch in relative safety. A flat dirt ring surrounded by ten-foot-high stone walls was my concern. Lanterns swung from chains above, giving everything a faint golden haze Joining the son to be seeing sun.

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  An announcer shouted from a raised booth while attendants raked the arena floor before the matche.

  Keagan leaned over the railing. “The arenas will get larger with the higher ranks.”

  I flicked my tail. “Crowds like blood and spectacle. Doesn’t matter where you go. Remember what we saw in the capitol?”

  He shrank inward. “Just, stay safe.”

  “I will.”

  My first opponent waited for me. Molder, they announced it as. I didn't need Keagan to tell me that it was a golem made into the shape of a kappa. It was twice the size Noma was and made entirely of stone. The dish on its head was full of water and moss had found various places to grow all over its body.

  Great. This really isn't going to be good for the boy to watch. But they are an opponent like any other, just big and slow.

  His trainer was a burly kaland with a deep tan. He slapped the stone kappa on the side and laughed as he turned to head to his platform to watch from.

  “Constants, please take your places,” the announcer ordered.

  We did. I watched Molder, and Molder watched me.

  On opposite sides, we waited for the announcer to give the signal.

  “Begin!”

  I started with an ice shard to its face. The projectile just shattered and left only the slightest hint of damage. The golem leaned forward and the water in its dish flared upward.

  Rain started to drizzle on the battlefield. I spared a glance to the sky and saw no clouds, yet the rain fell anyway.

  This is just going to be annoying. I've really got to get my Arcane much higher.

  I started loping towards my opponent as they slowly walked towards me. I fired another ice shard at its knee to keep up appearances. It held its hands out wide before clapping them together. I jumped over and into its reach.

  Some concussive force still ruffled my fur, but I focused on the rock that was its elbow. I placed a paw on its forearm and yanked. The stone came out cleanly, causing the rest of the arm to drop to the ground, limp.

  The kappa tried to land on top of me. I darted out from under its armpit. The ground shook as I turned around.

  “Give up already,” I said as I tossed the stone in my mouth out of the arena. “I don't want to hurt you more.”

  The rain came down harder. My fur was really soaking it all in. Molder shook its head as it grabbed at its stump arm. It tucked its shoulder and rolled forwards.

  Even with the dirt softening into mud, I got out of the way. As Molder rolled by, I tried to kick them out of bounds. My feet just slipped off their slippery stones and I landed on my side with a splat.

  I got up and tried to shake as much of the water out of my fur as I could while Molder wheeled around still tucked into a rolling boulder. However, I did notice they were picking up speed while turning sharper.

  “Lucia, they have the Slippery Speed trait!” Keagan called out. “The wetter they get, the higher their boosts to Speed and Agility get.”

  Thanks, kid. But that is a dirty trick, in more ways than one. Speeding yourself up while slowing me down, it was a valiant effort.

  Molder rolled along the edge of the arena and came at me indirectly, as if it wanted me to dodge towards the outside. I didn't. Instead, I made my way towards the center. As the kappa circled around me, deciding where to strike from, I started channeling into a frost shield. The rain intensified into a downpour.

  I need to test my shield.

  As it turned and headed for me, I created the shield and drove it into the ground between us. It rolled right over it and I still had to dodge away. I barely made it out of the way.

  Keagan looked terrified. He chipped his hands over his mouth, but I shook my head. He wants to forfeit. I looked down at the shield that was still intact, just half submerged in the mud.

  “Kid, I've got a plan.”

  I created another frost shield and planted it into the mud. It was the biggest shield I could make. Molder predictably rolled forwards. I started channeling a second frost shield. Just before it flattened the first shield, I created the second behind it but angled it to make a ramp. Because I knew my ramp would still collapse under the monster's weight, I dipped under the second shield.

  The second shield caught the first and I caught the second. Molder’s massive weight came crashing onto my back, pressing me knee-deep into the mud. But I held up. It sailed up and over. At the top of its arc, the kappa’s arms and legs unfurled and started flailing as it headed back to the earth.

  Molder hit the ground, bounced, then slid in a disorganized mess. It didn’t stop until it hit the wall upholding the spectators.

  “Ring out. Lucia wins!” the announcer shouted to the cacophony of cheers.

  Pulling myself out of the mud was as annoying as it was exhausting. My claws sank deep and came up caked in brown muck that clung stubbornly to my fur. The rain helped, but only barely. Thin ribbons of water traced down my forelegs and dripped from me as I shook myself off. The arena was a mess of half-flooded trenches and scattered puddles. Spectators were already cheering.

  When I met up with Keagan near the barrier, the rain eased into a mist. He was already waiting for me, chest heaving, his hair plastered to his forehead. On the other side of the arena, Molder stood with its shoulders slumped, retrieving the arm I’d tore away. The creature didn’t even look at me. It just gathered its parts and limped away in defeat.

  Keagan didn’t say a word. He just ran forward and wrapped his arms around my neck, pressing his face into my soaked fur. “You’re safe.”

  I let him hold on for a few seconds. The boy’s heartbeat was still wild. I sighed through my nose, the breath misting in the cool air.

  “Safe enough,” I said. “But you shouldn’t sound surprised.”

  He pulled back a little, blinking rain and tears out of his eyes. “I… I thought you were going to…”

  “Lose?” I tilted my head. “Keagan, the monsters of this rank don’t give up easily. But neither should we.”

  He swallowed hard, staring down at the mud.

  “You can’t panic every time it looks bad out there.” My voice was firm but soft. “If you freeze, you stop thinking. And when you stop thinking, someone actually gets hurt.”

  “I’m sorry.” his voice cracked.

  “I know.” I lowered my head until my jaw pressed against his forehead. “You’re not weak for caring. But you can’t let that caring turn into fear. We don’t get to choose when the fight comes, only how we stand when it does.”

  For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Just breathed, shaky and uneven, while my fur dripped between us.

  “I get it,” I added quietly. “You’re scared of losing more people. It’s never easy. But we can’t build our lives around what we’re afraid to lose.”

  He finally stepped back, his expression somewhere between shame and relief. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask.” I gave my shoulders a good shake, sending another spray of cold water in every direction. “Besides, look at me. I’m still standing. That’s proof enough, isn’t it?”

  Keagan managed a faint smile. He reached out and tried to wring a handful of my fur, grimacing at how much water came out. “You’re like a wet carpet.”

  “Rude,” I said, flicking my tail and splattering his face. “But true.”

  He laughed and for a moment, the tension between us finally broke. The arena’s noise became distant again, the storm fading into a low hiss against the stands.

  “Come on,” he said, rubbing his sleeve across his face. “Let’s get you dried out before the next match.”

  He smiled wider this time, and I followed him off the field. Both of us were still soaked, but our footsteps were visibly lighter.

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