The aftermath of morning drills always clung to the air—heat, grit, the metallic scent of beast-steel dust ground into the training plates. Orin breathed it in as he left the arena with Wake and Starke. His cleavers rode comfortably against his back, their sheaths still faintly warm from the impacts earlier. Beast-steel always held heat longer than normal metal; Vince once told him it came from forging with ore found near Thermospine Jackal dens—Monari whose bones absorbed and retained volcanic warmth. Orin hadn't thought about that detail in years, but the heat felt familiar.
Kahn-Ra walked silently beside him, step for step, eyes drifting lightly over the courtyard. He didn't fidget or pace. He simply observed, and the quiet weight of his attention made students shift, even when they pretended not to look.
One group whispered behind them.
"That black bobcat—what is he?""Too quiet for a Shadow Lynx…""No way. Shadow Lynx flick their tails constantly.""Looks like a Frostmane Panther cub… but smaller.""No, their eyes aren't gold. That thing looks at you like it knows your bloodline."
Kahn-Ra didn't react, but a slow flick of his tail made the boldest whisperer stiffen and look away.
Wake nudged Orin lightly. "He intimidates half the courtyard without trying."
"He's not trying," Orin murmured.
A thought slid into Orin's mind like cool smoke drifting across embers.I am merely present. Their discomfort is their own revelation.
Orin kept his face neutral. He was getting better at that.
The dining hall was carved into the academy's inner ring, its stone vaulted overhead and reinforced with dark shard-wood beams—wood harvested from the Shardback Tortoise, a Monari known for bone-hard armor ridges. Even untreated, shard-wood resisted cracking under enormous pressure; treated with Radiance varnish, it felt nearly unbreakable.
Students moved between tables with trays in hand. Blessed students practiced radiant motes above their palms—tiny spheres of controlled light—and Blood Hunters with partial traits sat nearby. One had scaled patches along his jaw from an Ironhide Boar infusion. Another had faint shimmering veins — likely a Duskwing Viper mixture.
Orin grabbed a tray. Wake grabbed two bowls. Starke scanned the trays like he expected one to explode.
They sat in a quieter corner.
Kahn-Ra hopped onto the bench beside Orin. The bench didn't creak; shard-wood and silver clamps reinforced the frame. Smart choice, considering an upperclassman with Crag Bear lineage had shattered three benches last month simply by sitting down with bad posture.
A student from another table froze halfway to sitting when he noticed Kahn-Ra watching him. He quietly changed tables.
Wake shook his head, smiling. "He's really dedicated to messing with people."
Orin frowned. "He's not. He just… exists that way."
Kahn-Ra's thought brushed his mind with the dry tone of someone giving a factual correction.If their nerves shatter under a stare, they are unfit for survival.
Starke, unaware, poked his stew. "If he stares at me long enough, I'll evaporate."
Kahn-Ra turned his eyes slowly toward Starke.
Starke froze in place like prey.
Kahn-Ra blinked, then looked away.
Starke sagged in relief. "Didn't die. Progress."
Wake took a calm bite. "Barely."
Orin noticed Starke fiddling with something under the table—a small metal sphere with three rotating rings, each etched with runes so tiny they looked like shimmering veins.
"What's that?" Orin asked.
Starke lit up immediately. "Resonance snare. Uses dust harvested from a Burrowback Mole claw—those little earth-beat Monari sense vibrations through soil better than anything. If I stabilize the internal rings, this thing can set ambush triggers without—"
Kahn-Ra's head turned.
No growl.No hiss.Just a slow, deliberate look at the device.
Starke shoved the sphere into his bag so fast he nearly tore the strap. "Never mind. Test it later. Much later."
Kahn-Ra's whiskers twitched.Wisdom can be taught. Fear is faster.
Wake choked on his drink trying not to laugh.
Once breakfast ended, announcements hummed through the resonance channels overhead—thin brass tubes that carried sound like river currents. Runic acoustics, not electronics. No electricity anywhere in Hachi; Radiance and rune conduction did all the work.
"Combat Techniques," Wake said. "Round two."
Starke groaned. "My bones are still in round one."
Kahn-Ra added, His bones are rarely in the correct round.
Starke pointed weakly. "He said something mean, I can feel it."
Wake ignored him. "Come on, let's go before Halen murders us."
The arena was half-covered, ringed by sandstone pillars etched with old hunt carvings. Orin recognized shapes—a Stormclaw Raptor etched mid-strike, a falling Silvermane Wolf, and something long and coiled that might've been a Dreadvine Serpent.
Instructor Halen stood at the center, his arcano-steel wristband glowing faintly as he tapped its amplification rune.
"Line up!"
The rune carried his voice across the arena with perfect clarity.
Kahn-Ra positioned himself by the boundary, sitting as if the entire space had been designed to be viewed from that exact spot.
Warm-ups began. They sprinted, rolled, pivoted. Orin's breathing fell into rhythm. Wake's steps were quiet as he redirected force through his limbs, phoenix heat flickering beneath his skin.
Starke tripped twice.
"The floor is attacking me!" Starke bellowed.
"It's beast-steel," Wake answered calmly. "It literally absorbs impact so you don't break yourself."
"Then why does it hate me?"
Kahn-Ra's thought drifted to Orin like a judgmental breeze.Because you are vulnerable to gravity and poor decisions.
Orin nearly slipped from laughing mid-run.
When partner drills began, Halen matched Wake with Orin.
Wake rolled his shoulders. "Ready?"
Orin nodded.
They exchanged controlled strikes. Wake redirected Orin's momentum with impeccable timing. Orin adapted—switching stance, adjusting shoulders, shifting weight as Kahn-Ra had instructed earlier.
"You're learning fast," Wake said, panting.
"I'm trying."
Kahn-Ra's voice landed in his mind like a tap on the back of the skull.Your footwork holds. Do not clutter your thoughts during movement.
Noted, Orin replied silently.
Better, Kahn-Ra said.
Rotation came next. Orin ended up facing a second-year with the thick forearms and bristled skin pattern of an Ironhide Boar infusion. Great. Tough and stubborn—the worst combination.
"Ready, first-year?" the boy said.
"Ready."
The boy charged like a boar—straight, fast, heavy. Orin sidestepped and countered, but pulled force; Ironhide-infused bodies hit back with bone-rattling feedback.
"You hit clean," the boy admitted.
"You're quick for your size."
"BEGIN!" Halen shouted.
The second-year lunged again. Orin dodged, pivoted, swept the legs. The boy hit the mat hard—boar hide against beast-steel echoed through the arena.
Halen nodded. "Good control, Slain."
Orin offered his hand. But he remembered Kahn-Ra's earlier whisper—left knee injury.
He pulled more gently.
"Thanks," the boy said. "Didn't expect you to read me that quick."
Kahn-Ra murmured,Do not allow flattery to dull discipline.
By cooldown, half the class lay sprawled across the mats. A raptor-infused student crackled faintly with static. Someone groaned loudly.
Starke lay face-down. "Tell my parents I died strong."
"No one would believe that," Wake said.
Kahn-Ra added, His spirit is made of damp wood.
Starke gasped. "He roasted me again!"
"No comment," Orin said.
Wake laughed under his breath.
They crossed the courtyard toward the dorms. Two older students sat near the fountain, manipulating rune-cards made from beast parchment etched with Glowspine Mantis serum. Tactical diagrams shifted with each gesture.
Starke slowed like a man approaching religious relics. "Those are the new flex-mapping cards. If I had even one—"
Kahn-Ra looked at him.
Starke shut up.
Wake dragged him by the collar. "Eat first. Invent later."
Back in the dorm, Orin collapsed onto the bed. Wake stretched silently. Starke sprawled like he'd been defeated by existence.
Kahn-Ra leapt onto the windowsill and settled. Students below walked to class, some with Frostfang Wolf-lined cloaks, others carrying spears tipped with Stoneshade Beetle mandibles.
Orin studied him.
What do you see?
Kahn-Ra didn't blink.Movements. Intent. Hidden ambition. Negligent power. The usual.
"What about me?" Orin whispered before catching himself.
Kahn-Ra's answer came after a long, quiet breath:
Potential honed by fear… waiting for discipline to become strength.
Orin felt the truth of it settle in his chest.
Wake glanced over. "He said something intense, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Orin said softly. "He does that a lot."
Kahn-Ra flicked his tail once, thoughtful.
And for the first time, Orin realized something simple, quiet, and heavy:
He wasn't evolving alone.He wasn't training alone.He wasn't carrying his burden alone.
Kahn-Ra watched him—not as a pet watches an owner, but as a teacher watches a weapon being forged.