That same night, while the city celebrated twelve new bonded pairs, the three of them remained restless. Everyone who had received a bond would begin training as soon as their eggs hatched. Until then, all they could do was continue the regimen Kamir had laid out for them. But that evening was anything but normal. Albert and Amalia both refused to sleep, choosing instead to sit with their eggs clutched tightly in their hands, eyes fixed on them—as if afraid the eggs might vanish if they looked away.

  They joined River outside. He had laid his egg on his chest, hands resting on top to keep it in place, his gaze fixed on the night sky. The moon was full, and the sky was completely clear—a rare, breathtaking sight that painted everything in silver-blue light. Amalia broke the silence. “What do we do now?” River didn’t know how to answer—but fortunately, Albert did. He sounded more confident now, as if having the egg beside him had anchored something inside. “We train,” Albert said simply. “And get ready to fight.” River nodded. But deep down, fear stirred—the possibility that one day, his friends might get hurt. Ever since Callum, the thought had returned again and again: what if Amalia or Albert were next? He didn’t know what he’d do if that happened.

  As the night settled in, he chuckled softly. He could hear his friend's breathing grow deeper, eventually becoming a full-blown snoring competition—low, melodic, and somehow comforting. Lying there, his mind drifted back to the egg perched on his chest and the voice he’d heard earlier. What could it be? A dragon? A wolf? A basilisk?

  He didn’t know. But the thought thrilled him. He placed his hands on the egg once more, channeling essence into it. Still… nothing. He shifted, focusing more deliberately. This time, he tried channeling different affinities. When he finally sent a stream of fire essence into it, the egg responded. It warmed beneath his palms, glowing faintly, as if awakening to the heat. A heartbeat echoed within faint, steady, but definitely alive. The confirmation washed over him, quieting the fear that something might be wrong. It didn’t speak again, but that was enough. The rhythm soothed him. It was… pleasant. River smiled to himself and kept going, feeding a slow, steady thread of fire essence into the egg—just enough to avoid draining himself, but enough to keep the connection alive.

  And all through the night, he held onto that warmth.

  Kamir was standing over them before the night sky had even turned to morning. “Get up. No more vacation,” he said in the same flat tone he always used. Amalia and Albert took a little longer to rise, but before long, they were all walking back toward the training grounds. None one liked the idea of leaving their eggs behind, so they brought them along. Once they arrived, each of them carefully placed their egg in a shaded corner, far from the action. Kamir stood inside the training ring and spoke as they stretched, preparing for another grueling day. “I’ve signed you up for a delve in three days.” River looked at the others. Their eyes widened—surprised, maybe even a little alarmed. They had known this was part of the deal, eventually… but none of them felt ready. Not yet. None had landed a clean blow on Kamir, or even held him off for more than a few minutes. Albert blurted out what everyone else was thinking. “Are we ready?” Kamir waved him off. “It’s a beginner-tier dungeon,” he said. “Low-level goblins and similar creatures. They’re barely above animals. No tactics, no coordination—they just charge whatever moves.” He paused, letting that sink in. “These dungeons are used to train kids. School groups clear them out all the time.” River almost relaxed—but what Kamir considered “easy” was very different from what most people meant by it. Kamir spoke again, “But you still need to be careful.” His tone didn’t change, but the weight behind his words did. Before they could ask more questions, Kamir ordered training to begin. And so, they obliged. They were repeatedly beaten by Kamir—but by a smaller margin than before. Their footwork was sharper, their blocks tighter. Like any other day, by lunchtime their bodies were sore and their minds were mush as they wobbled back toward the house. A small break—before the beatings continued. River laughed as they trudged along. “We’re getting good, aren’t we?” The others just huffed, not quite agreeing with River’s sarcastic optimism.

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  They sat at their kitchen table once again. It had become the focal point of their house, a meeting point for everyone. The three of them didn’t eat much. They picked at their bread while their attention remained fixed on the nearby eggs. River finally broke the silence. “Mine reacts to fire essence,” he said. “When I feed it a little, it warms up. I can feel a heartbeat.” Amalia and Albert perked up at that. He watched as they both tried to recreate the effect.

  Amalia went first. She closed her eyes and focused, channeling water essence into her egg. The surface shifted—from matte, almost black, to a luminous blue. Tiny tendrils of water-like energy licked out from the shell and curled around her fingers. Albert blinked, then grinned. “I wanna try.” He placed his hands on the egg and focused. Slowly, the dark shell bloomed into a rich, forest green. River swore he heard faint, rhythmic breathing coming from within. But before they could experiment further, Kamir returned. Stoic as ever, Kamir urged them back to the training grounds. And so, they went. The next three days passed in a blur. Two days of relentless training left them bruised, battered—but not broken. For the first time, they were pushing back. Each blow made them sharper. Stronger. Then, to their surprise, on the third morning, Kamir informed them there would be no training that day. “The day before a delve, you rest,” he said simply. “Do what you want. Just be ready tomorrow.” The words hit harder than expected. It was the first truly peaceful day they’d had since arriving—since leaving the school, really. Every day since had been filled with running, fighting, training, surviving. And now… they had a moment of respite. But River hadn’t planned for this. He didn’t actually know what he wanted to do. Eventually, he remembered something—his books. He hadn’t explored them properly since arriving in Varosha. Among them, there was one he remembered in particular:

  “Dungeons and What to Expect in the Wastelands.”

  He opened his pack and dug it out. Settling onto the couch, he cracked open the book. The first few chapters covered the surrounding wastelands, labeled an “uninhabitable zone for humans,” though River knew firsthand that wasn’t quite true. Still, he’d take it with a grain of salt. Hopefully there would be something useful in the book. As he flipped further, the contents became more interesting. “Dungeons are created when overwhelming concentrations of essence become sentient. This sentient essence forms a dungeon, constructing monsters and traps to defend itself. Its primary instinct is to grow. Killing living creatures allows the dungeon to absorb their essence, strengthening itself. The greater the essence concentration, the larger and more dangerous the dungeon becomes.”

  River blinked. Sentient essence? He hadn’t known that. But thinking back… it made sense.

  It explained why the Wastelands—teeming with essence were dotted with dungeons, while the Kingdom had none that he knew of. He read on, hoping the pages held more secrets. But the text quickly unraveled into dense diagrams and cryptic riddles. The kind River was nowhere near qualified to decipher. At that point, they might as well have been written in another language. With a sigh, River slid the book back into his backpack and picked up his egg. As he channeled a slow stream of essence into it, he felt the creature within stir in response. The warmth it radiated soothed him, quieting the anxious thoughts swirling around tomorrow’s expedition — and making the time that had once dragged now seem to fly by.

  Albert and Amalia stepped back into the house and woke River from his trance-like state. They were drenched in sweat. They must’ve used the time for some light training. Anything to keep their minds off what was coming.

  They were ready… or at least pretending to be. Tomorrow would tell the truth.