The path toward the Testing Grounds felt like a funeral march for Veridia's nerves, even though the day was so sunny and bright it actually hurt to look at.
They walked along the Avenue of the Founders, a wide corridor paved with white marble slabs that reflected the light with blinding intensity. On either side, immense stone arches reached toward the sky, supporting nothing but the weight of history, while statues of ancient magi—sculpted with stern expressions and granite robes—seemed to follow their steps with hollow, judgmental gazes from their ten-foot-tall pedestals.
"It's... unusual," Nalia commented, adjusting her glasses as she observed the silver lynx walking two paces ahead of them, his silhouette outlined against the grandeur of the architecture.
"Despite having just been summoned, your familiar pays you no mind," Nalia said, cleaning her glasses with a meticulous gesture, trying to see beneath the surface. "Observe him closely, Veri."
He led the march. His tail moved with a hypnotic, lazy rhythm, and every step resonated with an authority that didn't belong to an animal—as if the marble slabs existed solely to keep his paws from touching the dirt. Other students instinctively scrambled out of his way, opening an invisible corridor through the bustle.
"U-unusual? Hehe..." Veridia repeated with a nervous laugh, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her gloved hand. "Well, he's an Astral Lynx. They're supposed to be... distant, right?"
"Distant, yes. But arrogant? Not usually to this extent," Nalia analyzed, her piercing gaze fixed on the animal. "Most familiars constantly seek their master's mana to stabilize themselves in this plane. He doesn't even look at you. He walks as if he knows the way, as if he owns the campus and we are merely his guests."
That human has sharp instincts, the voice resonated in Veridia's mind, heavy with indifference. Tell her to stop analyzing me. Her curiosity is impertinent.
I can't just tell her that without looking insane! she thought desperately. Just... blend in! Be a cat! A lynx! Whatever! Just act normal!
Human normalcy is a cage I will not enter.
What are you, some kind of philosopher-familiar or something? she replied in the privacy of her mind, with resignation. If she was going to be tied to an ego of this size, at least she could use it as a shield.
◆◆◆
Kaelen stopped at a fork in the road, where the avenue split around a monumental fountain of crystal-clear water. Without hesitation, he turned left, toward the main entrance of the coliseum.
"See?" Nalia pointed out. "You didn't even tell him where to go. It's fascinating. His intelligence must be of a superior rank."
"Yes... fascinating," the mage muttered, feeling her stomach tie itself in knots. Having a "genius" familiar was going to be the death of her.
They passed through the final arch and entered the Testing Grounds.
It wasn't a simple courtyard. It was a colossal amphitheater sunken into the earth, designed to contain high-level magic. The floor was a perfect plain of emerald grass, trimmed with fastidious precision, smelling of fresh greenery and ozone scorched by past spells. Surrounding the arena, limestone bleachers rose in concentric circles like the walls of a canyon, packed with upperclassmen who watched the freshmen below with the usual mix of boredom and sadism, like spectators at a Roman circus.
A translucent magical barrier, barely visible as a heat distortion in the air, separated the arena from the stands, humming softly with defensive energy.
The moment Veridia and Nalia stepped onto the grass, the general murmur died down. The contrast was brutal. The other students' familiars were modest creatures: moss mice hiding in pockets, ember sparrows perched on shoulders, or tiny crystal lizards tangled in their owners' fingers. The largest familiar seen that day barely reached the size of a well-fed house cat.
And then there was Kaelen.
Even though he had reduced his size to that of a lynx, he was still massive by comparison. His shoulders reached Veridia's knees. He was a beast of condensed muscle and magic that made the other familiars look like plush toys. His mere presence occupied the space of an adult, and his metallic fur reflected the sun with glints that strained the eyes.
"Is that... Veridia?" whispered a girl from Class B, loud enough to be heard in the silence of the arena.
"The one who tripped over her own robe last week?" another replied. "Impossible."
"Look at that beast... It's huge. How the hell did she get something like that?"
"It must be a cheat," declared the voice of Jarek, a second-year noble leading the group of skeptics from the front row of the stands. His own familiar, a wind hawk the size of a pigeon, seemed to shrink before the lynx's presence. "I bet she stole an illegal pre-bound grimoire. Or maybe the book is defective and it's just an illusion. A talentless commoner doesn't summon a creature of that caliber."
Veridia felt her stomach shrink. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
Ignore them. Just walk. Don't give them the satisfaction.
How ridiculous, the voice cut through her thoughts, cold and absolute. Do their barks affect you? Your existence serves Kaelen. Straighten your back, human. You walk beside me.
Veridia felt the weight of the words. The power Kaelen transmitted was something vast and primal she couldn't fully grasp, but strangely, that pressure didn't crush her. On the contrary, the sharp command acted like a shield, pushing her away from the mockery and fear. Far from feeling intimidated, she felt gratitude.
Thank you, Kaelen, she whispered, as she pulled herself together. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. She would no longer be the scared girl who tripped; she walked beside a force of nature, and she would try to live up to it.
◆◆◆
The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the Coliseum's combat arena. The air smelled of ozone and nervous sweat.
"Next: Nalia Aegis!" shouted Horo, the Professor of Bestiology, a short, nervous man holding an evaluation tablet in the center of the arena.
Nalia adjusted her gloves and looked at Veridia with unshakable calm.
"Wish me luck," she said, though her tone implied that luck was an unnecessary variable for someone who had studied so much.
"Crush it!" Veridia whispered, holding back the urge to cheer, as she watched her friend walk toward the chalk circle with a calm, disciplined stride.
Nalia's test was, like everything she did, an exemplary execution. She summoned her familiar—a spiritual owl made of ether and floating crystal that hummed with precision and grace. The familiar zipped through the flaming hoops without singeing a feather and destroyed the targets with concentrated energy blasts that hit dead center every time.
"Perfect execution. Stable mana. Solid bond," the professor dictated, scribbling furiously on his tablet. "Outstanding, Miss Aegis. You may retire to the stands to observe the rest of your class."
Nalia nodded with a short bow and headed toward the side stairs leading to the spectator area, joining the students who had already passed or were waiting their turn. From up there, she leaned against the railing, pulled out a small notebook, and fixed her analytical gaze on the arena, ready to dissect whatever came next.
◆◆◆
An indeterminate amount of time passed as several more students filed through the arena. There were competent demonstrations of minor familiars, the occasional incident with a toad that refused to jump, and polite applause after standard executions.
Another glowing rabbit. Another crystal bird with shiny feathers. Another student stammering a memorized spell. All correct, all zero risk. At least I have time to get ahead on the chapter regarding that thing that's making me uneasy. Tired of the spectacle, Nalia took advantage of the perfect margin to disconnect from the mediocre exhibition and immerse herself in her own notes and research with her bestiary, making it easy to ignore the background noise.
Let it not be said I only came here to watch others fail.
◆◆◆
The parade of normalcy continued for a while; however, the general murmur shifted tone drastically when it became Veridia's turn, and the arena was cleared solely for her and her companion. They weren't looking at her. They were looking at the silver being walking by her side.
The Professor cleared his throat, looking at his list and then at the green-haired girl standing motionless beside the beast.
"Next..." the man said, his voice carrying a slight tremor. "Veridia Aethel."
Veridia moved into the chalk circle. Kaelen stopped beside her and promptly sat on his haunches with an elegance that made the other students' small foxes and hawks look like stray dogs and carrion birds.
The professor adjusted his glasses, looked at Veridia, at the lynx, and then at his list.
"Miss Aethel," the professor said in a reproving tone. "Exam protocol dictates that the student must present themselves alone and perform the summoning in situ to evaluate circle stability and mana control."
Veridia froze.
"Uh... I..." she stammered. She knew she couldn't ask Kaelen to go back into the book. He would refuse, and if she forced him, he would likely destroy the book (and her) for the insolence.
"Please, dispel your familiar and proceed with the ritual," the professor ordered, tapping his tablet with his pen.
"Ha!" Jarek shouted from the stands. "She can't! That good-for-nothing probably let it escape and now she doesn't know how to put it back! It's a danger to have a wild animal on the loose!"
Veridia looked at Kaelen in a panic. Could you...?
No, was the immediate and sharp response.
The professor, impatient with the lack of response and the growing murmur, lowered his tablet and fixed his eyes on the lynx, ready to impose his authority over the rebellious beast.
It was a mistake.
For a fraction of a second, their eyes met. The academic's tired eyes encountered the lynx's molten amber suns. There were no growls, no bared fangs—only an abyssal silence. The professor turned visibly pale. A drop of cold sweat ran down his spine. For an instant, he forgot how to breathe. It wasn't fear of an animal; it was the primal instinct of an antelope seeing the lion's shadow before seeing the lion—a primitive, terrifying sensation that he wasn't looking at an animal, but at something ancient and vast whose gaze pierced him to such an extent that he doubted his own existence.
The man swallowed hard, momentarily paralyzed by an intimidation he couldn't explain.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Professor!" a relaxed, magically amplified voice echoed from the box of honor, momentarily breaking the terror.
The professor caught his breath as if he had been underwater for too long. His hands trembled slightly as he picked up his dropped tablet. He avoided looking at the lynx for the rest of the test, as if doing so would reactivate that void in his chest.
From the edge of the circle, Nalia narrowed her eyes. She knew Professor Horo; he was a man who had tamed wild griffins without blinking. Seeing him tremble from meeting the gaze of a simple lynx made no sense. What did you see? she wondered, her analytical gaze shifting from the professor to the silver animal. That wasn't fear of being bitten. That was panic.
Everyone turned their heads. Ryumu Ren was there, feet up on the railing and a juice box in his hand.
"The goal is to see if she has a familiar, isn't it?" the Director said, with that lazy smile that terrified the staff. "There's the critter. It's big, it's silver, and it hasn't eaten anyone yet. If she already has it dominated to the point of walking it without a leash, why waste mana de-summoning it? It's inefficient."
"B-but Director Ren... the protocol..." the professor tried to protest, though his voice lacked strength, still shaken by the animal's gaze.
"Protocol bores me," Ren cut him off, sipping his juice. "Move on to the practical test. I want to see what the cat can do."
The professor wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
"V-very well..." he cleared his throat, avoiding looking at the lynx directly again. "As the Director orders. Let us proceed to the obedience and offensive capability test."
Veridia released her breath, relieved but also terrified. Ren had saved her, but now she had everyone's attention.
"Order him to jump through the flaming hoop and strike the straw target."
The professor pointed to a floating hoop burning with magical flames and a training dummy on the other side. The hoop was designed for small creatures; Kaelen would barely fit if he contorted himself. The silence in the field was absolute. Everyone expected failure.
Veridia looked at Kaelen. And he looked at the tiny hoop. Is this a joke? resonated in her mind with incredulity.
"Kaelen..." Veridia whispered, pleading, knowing Nalia was watching intently from the edge. "Please. Just jump. Do it for me."
The "cat" turned his head slowly toward her. His golden eyes clearly said: You want me to do circus tricks?
"Come on, Aethel!" Jarek yelled. "Your plushie is defective! It doesn't even know how to jump!"
Kaelen didn't look at Jarek. He didn't even turn his head toward the hoop. He simply let out a snort of contempt that sounded strangely human. He didn't jump. He didn't even stand up. With a lazy flick of his tail, a wave of invisible pressure swept across the field.
CRACK!
The hoop of fire wasn't jumped through; it was erased. The magic sustaining the flames dissolved instantly like a storm blowing out a match. And the straw dummy behind the hoop wasn't hit; it was torn from existence, as if a giant invisible hand had crushed it from the sky.
Professor Horo of Bestiology dropped his tablet. It hit the grass with a dull thud. Kaelen went back to licking a paw, as if he had just shooed away an annoying fly.
Hmph, how they love to waste time, he declared in Veridia's mind.
The silence that settled was pure shock. The cruel laughter that had filled the stands was strangled in unison, as if a hand had tightened around their throats. The students' eyes were wide open, fixed on the empty space where a beginner's magic obstacle had existed a second ago. No one breathed.
Jarek, the instigator of the mockery, had his mouth open in a grotesque grimace of disbelief. His face had lost all color, turning the shade of old ash. His wind hawk, sensing its master's dread and the residual pressure of the attack, hid trembling behind his head, emitting a pathetic chirp.
"Does that... count as 'minor offensive capability'?" Veridia asked the air, with a nervous smile she didn't know she had in her, breaking the collective paralysis.
"Interesting definition of 'minor'."
The voice came from behind, much closer this time. Veridia turned and found herself face to face with Ryumu Ren, who had descended to the field in an instant. The Director was looking at her with amusement. Kaelen stopped his grooming and turned his head toward Ren.
For the first time, the entity's eyes showed something other than indifference. Recognition. And a slight—very slight—caution. Ren crouched down to eye level with the "cat."
"Nice trick, kitty," Ren said, sipping his juice. "A lot of power for such a small body. I'd almost say it doesn't all fit in there."
Kaelen held the gaze. A silent duel of wills took place in that three-foot gap. The air between them vibrated, distorted by the heat of two auras clashing without touching.
This human... Kaelen thought, his pupils contracting. Do humans like this still exist?
"Meow," said Kaelen.
It was the most fake, sarcastic, and condescending meow in the history of the animal kingdom. It was an insult disguised as a feline sound. Ren burst into laughter, standing up.
"I like you," the Director said, as he patted the shoulder of a Veridia who was on the verge of a heart attack. "Passed with honors, kid. Try not to destroy the campus before lunch."
Ren walked away whistling, leaving Veridia with a slight tremor and Kaelen with his gaze fixed on his back, eyes narrowed.
That man is interesting, Kaelen said in Veridia's mind. He is strangely familiar.
"Familiar?" she whispered, feeling the glares of envy and fear from her classmates piercing her back. "Well, I hope he stays far away. Every time I interact with him, my life gets more complicated. He saves me from the frying pan only to leave me in the embers."
◆◆◆
Resonance from Another World
The exact moment the silver tiger touched this world, something resonated; a silence so deep, so unnatural that it would drown out any scream. In that place, where light seemed to have been exiled centuries ago, time did not flow; it stagnated like water in a forgotten well.
In the midst of that darkness and silence, something began to vibrate. More than a physical movement—a resonance of the very fabric between worlds.
"Kaelen…"
The voice was not human. It sounded like the crackle of ancient parchment being torn, like the rub of dry bones against cold stone. A small spark of mana, a violet so dark it looked like the first night of mourning, ignited briefly. The light revealed, for barely a heartbeat, a figure pinned to a wall as if the wall itself were devouring him.
He let out a laugh. It wasn't violent, nor uncontrolled. It was measured. Contained. Satisfied.
"So… you have returned."
The resonance that had pierced the world moments before still vibrated in his prison. Raw. Clumsy. Human. A power summoned without understanding the reach of its echoes.
"After all this time…" he murmured, "you are still incapable of doing things quietly."
The void seemed to tense, as if the prison itself responded to his renewed lucidity. His shackles were still firm. But something changed. For the first time in centuries, he couldn't see him, nor touch him, but he could feel him.
"No matter," he thought, as the violet spark extinguished completely. "The game always starts this way."
Silence returned. But it was no longer absolute.