The world of Serathal breathes through its beasts.
Every living soul is born with a thread of spirit that can call the wild to serve—but the gods set a limit. No tamer may bind more than two beasts, or the fabric of life itself begins to unravel. It is called the Rule of Two, and every race obeys it as law and curse alike.
That law shapes the nations.
Humans build citadels of order. Orcs raise mountain keeps of fire and stone. Elves weave their forests with whispering familiars, while Dracyn and Fae keep to the skies and shadows. Each race claims the gods favor them most; each readies for war in the name of "balance."
Teinshi — The Heir of Raen
Morning light spills over the Eastern Citadel of Soryu, catching the edges of a thousand silver banners. Inside the courtyard, a crowd of human nobles gathers for the Beast Conclave.
Teinshi Raen kneels on cold marble before the elders. At seventeen, he is already known as the prodigy of his generation, son of Lord Isen Raen, commander of the citadel legions, and Lady Myria, scholar of beastcraft.
Sigils burn along his forearms—two marks of binding.
At his left, the spirit of Aegra, a silver wolf, pads into view, her fur shimmering with stormlight. At his right, the hawk Kaen swoops down, metallic feathers whispering across the wind.
"Two beasts, two souls, one oath," intones Lord Isen. "Remember, Teinshi—the beasts are extensions of our will, not our hearts. You will lead men, not follow feelings."
Teinshi bows, though his chest tightens. His father's words are law, yet they sound hollow against the pulse in his veins. Since childhood he has dreamed of a third voice—soft, distant, whispering through moonlight. It calls his name as though it remembers him from another life.
When the ceremony ends, he stands alone beside the training yard.
Lady Myria approaches, her robes trailing light. She is gentler than her husband, yet her gaze carries its own gravity.
"You feel it again, don't you?" she asks quietly.
"The pull."
He hesitates. "It's nothing, Mother. Just nerves."
She shakes her head. "No. It's your blood. You are not the first Raen to hear it. Long ago, one of our ancestors defied the gods and bound a third beast—a creature of moonlight and silence. The gods erased his name, but sometimes his echo returns."
Her voice fades. "Pray it does not choose you."
When she leaves, Teinshi looks toward the western horizon where mountains bite the sky. The air hums, faint and strange, as though something on the other side is listening back.
He doesn't know that miles away, another soul feels that same hum.