Jason Grekor

"GILBERT, LET'S CALL it a day," I announced to the middle-aged man driving the lead caravan. He nodded in agreement. The caravan wheels groaned to a halt, marking the end of our day's journey. The once flat plains had transformed into a sea of sweeping hills, their green slopes dotted with wildflowers. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of pine and wildflowers through the air. The towering peaks of the Shaniyar mountains, a distant outline to the west, created a stunning backdrop. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the valley, a chill settled over the air. Just one more day.

A week had passed, and most of our journey was marked by vast, empty spaces without a single human soul. We slept under the open sky every night, except for the rare times we found shelter in a village barn. These scattered settlements were few and far between, and their inhabitants lived simple lives.

Despite the delay, I had no regrets. My eyes settled on the small family and their servant, who were busy building a fire. They were good people. During my travels, I got to know them better. They were originally from western Elaecia, but now they lived in the north. Gilbert, a merchant from the bustling city of Redkon, shared stories of his adventures across the western lands of Elaecia. His wife, Lyna, had a sharp wit and a knack for finding common ground with anyone she met. I often found myself lost in their lively conversations, forgetting the hardships of our journey.

Diana, with her mother's striking blue eyes and flowing auburn hair, was even more beautiful than Lyna. Her laughter was like a melody, filling the air with joy. The journey had been peaceful so far, with no threats from humans. But the wild cats, with their glowing eyes and haunting cries, were a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. But they were clever creatures, knowing who to attack. With me here, they wouldn't dare to attack. As I thought, my gaze fell on Diana, who was smiling during a conversation with her mother. She talked to me a lot, telling me almost everything about her family and childhood. She had even told me about her fear of the rumors circulating about young girls being taken away or killed mysteriously. Each time, I had to pat her head to reassure her and encourage her to trust me.

Now that I think about it, she was very similar to Nina. A wave of sadness washed over me as I realized Diana's uncanny resemblance to Nina. The same spark in her eyes, the same gentle smile. It was as if Nina had been reborn in Liana. Maybe that's why I felt such a strong desire to protect her. Hopefully, I could do it at least this time.

A single tear escaped my eye, a silent tribute to the girl I had lost.

I tethered my horse to the caravan, securing the reins to a post. The fire crackled and roared, casting flickering shadows on the caravan's canvas walls. Laughter rippled through the air, as the family gathered around the hearth, their voices warm and inviting.

Diana tugged on my sleeve, her eyes wide with anticipation, sparkling like stars in the night. "Jas, you left us hanging on your story yesterday!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as I joined them by the flickering campfire. A warm smile boomed on my face. The affectionate nickname she had given me wrapping around my heart like a cozy blanket—a comforting ritual that marked the end of each day.

I turned to her, a mischievous glint dancing in my eye. "Remember where we left off yesterday?" I prompted, watching her brow furrow as she struggled to recall the details.

"Oh, right! You were telling us about that time in Dreynoir County," she said, a spark of recognition lighting up her face.

Leaning back against the rough bark of a tree, the crackling fire warming my skin, I took a deep breath. "Yeah, that was quite an adventure," I reminisced, the flickering flames casting shadows that danced around us. "The Sylvan Forest was a paradise for hunters, teeming with all sorts of game. But then, the trouble started."

I paused dramatically, letting the suspense hang in the air. "The wildlife began to mutate, absorbing abnormal amounts of mana. These mutated creatures, called Zillas, were a nightmare. They attacked anything and everything, including the nearby villages. It was chaos."

Diana's eyes widened, fear and fascination mingling in her gaze. "That sounds terrifying," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

"It was," I agreed, my tone dropping to a hushed whisper. "But to restore balance to the ecosystem, we had to subjugate these creatures. Even the young nobles, eager to prove their worth, joined the hunt." I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, and watched as Diana hung on my every word, her breath caught in her throat.

Diana leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. "A Kitsune?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "A creature with six tails? That's incredible!" I nodded, my voice dropping to a hushed tone.

"We stumbled upon its den, a hidden sanctuary deep within the woods. The mother was a force to be reckoned with, fiercely protective of her young." I paused, letting the words sink in. "Josh Valiyan, a Knyaz of unmatched strength, led the charge. He was also the heir to the prestigious house Valiyan. I watched in awe as he faced the Kitsune, his eyes filled with a determination that sent chills down my spine. He charged, a blur of motion, his sword a flash of steel. The Kitsune lunged, its fangs bared, but the Knyaz was too quick. He parried the attack, his own blade a blur of steel. In that moment, I felt like a child watching a legendary hero in action, my heart pounding with a mix of admiration and envy, wishing I could harness even a fraction of his courage."

Diana's eyes sparkled with astonishment, her breath hitching in anticipation. "What happened next?" she inquired, leaning even closer.

"Josh Valiyan delivered the final blow, his blade plunging into the Kitsune's heart," I replied, my voice heavy with the memory. "It was a brutal end." I paused, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips as I reflected on the weight of that moment. "We were fortunate to have him in that campaign; we only lost two companions—a testament to Josh's skill and leadership. The Kitsune was the last major threat, but there were still plenty of lesser monsters to deal with. That's where the cadets came in, eager to prove themselves."

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"But the real prize of the hunt was the baby Kitsunes," I continued, my tone shifting to one of intrigue. "When a mutated Kitsune gave birth, its offspring were highly valuable. They could be tamed and bonded to a person, becoming loyal and powerful companions. Nobles from all over the kingdom sought to obtain a bond with one of these creatures. There were three baby Kitsunes left in the nest, each one a treasure in its own right. Lord Merwin and Lord Josh each claimed one, while the final one was given to Lord Merwin's sister."

The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows that seemed to reflect the growing tension as Diana listened intently. "To bond with a magical creature... that must be incredible!" she exclaimed, her voice trailing off as a yawn escaped her lips.

"Anyone can do it if they have an essence crown, even you," I assured her, smiling. "Now, let's get some rest. We have a long journey ahead tomorrow." I glanced around. The elderly couple was already fast asleep, their bodies curled up in their blankets. Diana yawned again and joined her parents, her head soon resting on her mother's shoulder. The servant remained awake, his eyes fixed on me, a silent guardian in the darkness.

The servant nodded towards me, his voice low. "Lord Jason, you should rest. I'll keep watch." He often offered to stay awake, but I knew better than to rely on him. I'd always been a light sleeper, my senses always alert. I nodded, pulling out a worn leather blanket.

As I looked up at the celestial spectacle, I realized tomorrow was my birthday. A wave of sadness washed over me. Birthdays used to be filled with laughter and warmth, the smell of Mom's cinnamon cake filling the house. Now, they were just another reminder of what I'd lost. Old memories resurfaced.

My uncle's decree echoed in my mind: "You will be stationed at the northern duchy, Jason." Eight years. Eight years since I'd felt the sun on my skin in my homeland. I'd left with a mix of excitement and dread. The prospect of serving alongside my father had once filled me with a sense of duty, a chance to follow in his footsteps. But now, lying in the darkness, a knot tightened in my stomach. People whispered that my father's exile was a matter of duty, a noble sacrifice. But I saw the truth in my uncle's eyes, the way he avoided my gaze. Banishment. For what? Loyalty that wavered? A disagreement with my uncle? Or something else entirely, something they were desperate to keep hidden? Something dangerous, perhaps, something that could threaten my own position if I dared to dig too deep. My mother's death had shattered my world, but my father's absence was a gaping wound that refused to heal. And now, after all these years, I was finally going to see him again.

Years passed. I rose through the ranks, proving myself in countless battles and skirmishes. But the questions about my father lingered, a shadow that followed me wherever I went. One night, Lord Merwin summoned me to his chambers. Instead of the usual commendations or hunting discussions, he tasked me with a peculiar mission: deliver a message to Icia, the Duke's residence, regarding the recent birth of Lady Rayeesi's son in Slacia. While the news itself was significant, it was Lord Merwin's unusually somber demeanor and insistence on secrecy that piqued my curiosity. He stressed that the information was solely for the Duke's ears, arousing suspicion and a sense of foreboding within me. In addition to this clandestine message, I was handed a royal decree for the northern garrison—the very place where my father had been stationed all those years ago. The prospect of finally seeing him again after so long filled me with a mix of apprehension and anticipation, stirring up a torrent of emotions I had long suppressed.

*********

Dawn broke, a sullen gray seeped across the sky. A thick blanket of clouds obscured the sun, leaving the world in a shroud of melancholy. I was a bit removed from the camp, refreshing myself at the edge of the woods, when I heard a commotion. Gilbert's voice, raised in anger, cut through the quiet. Curious, I went to investigate. Diana was sitting with a small, orange-and-white creature in her lap. It was a wildcat. The creature was bleeding, and Diana's face was filled with worry.

"Dad, please!" she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. "It's just a little cub. It's hurt and scared." She held the tiny creature close, its soft fur matted with blood. As she noticed me, her eyes pleaded for my understanding. "Jas, you have to talk to him. He'll see that I'm right."

"It's a wildcat, Diana. For goodness' sake, leave it alone, or its mother will come looking for it," Lyna warned, her voice filled with concern.

"This isn't just a wildcat," I declared, my voice cutting through the chaos. "It's a hybrid." The creature's white fur was unmistakable, but the orange markings betrayed its lineage.

"What do you mean by a hybrid?" Gilbert demanded, his anger still evident."

"Wildcats are typically white with gray patterns. There's no way this one would be orange unless it's part Lynx," I explained.

Diana, her eyes wide with interest, chimed in, "Lynx are another type of big cat found in the southern region. They're usually entirely orange and much stronger than Felixies."

Everyone's face was a mix of confusion and disbelief, except for Diana, whose eyes were wide with astonishment. "It was injured when I found it," she pleaded, turning to me. "Can't you help it, Jas?"

"Let me see," I asked Diana. She gently placed the small cat in my hands. I examined its wounds, finding an old arrow wound that had reopened, causing significant blood loss. The creature was barely breathing.

I walked over to my saddlebag. I only had a single pouch of foxmilk, a precious healing potion. With a gentle hand, I poured the foxmilk into its gaping mouth. The creature drank slowly, its consciousness returning. I could feel the mana coursing through its veins as its crown began to form. I looked at Diana, who was watching me intently. The others were also watching, their faces filled with anticipation.

"Diana," I began, "remember how I taught you to channel essence? You can do it now." She nodded, understanding. "Push your essence towards its crown, slowly filling it."

She did as instructed, and the creature's reserve began to fill with outer essence. The cat groaned softly and opened its eyes, looking intently at Diana.

"Well done," I praised her. "With your talent, you could be an excellent mage."

She smiled, taking the cub back.

"Diana," I began, my voice serious, "before you get too attached to the kitten, there's something you should know." She looked up, her expression tensing.

I glanced around at everyone, then continued, "As you can see, this is an artificial hybrid, and it has arrow wounds. Whoever created it must have tried to capture it when it escaped." A Lyna gasped, and Gilbert's eyes widened as they grasped the danger. "And breeding wildcats is illegal here," I added, my voice filled with gravity. "It's considered sacred among the mountain people. So, whoever created this hybrid must have had a very powerful reason to do so."

Silence fell over the group as they pondered the disturbing truth. Diana was the first to break the silence, her voice filled with determination. "I'm going to keep it safe and form a bond with it. How should I do that?"

My gaze lingered on her, and she shifted uncomfortably under my scrutiny. Then, I smiled. She has no idea she's already begun the bonding process, her essence leaving its mark on the creature's crown. But the true connection, the one that will allow them to communicate mind-to-mind, requires more than just good intentions. It needs a ritual, bonding scrolls, and a willingness to forge a link that can't easily be broken. Without the ritual, her mark on its crown will fade, and the chance for a true bond will be lost.

"For that, we need to go to the town first." I stated firmly.