The image of Raiven lingered long after it vanished.
Karl sat at the edge of his bed, eyes unfocused, hand resting against his chest where the mark had pulsed strongest. The memory of that spectral silhouette—wolf-bodied, winged, two eyes glowing with intent—was burned into his vision. Silent. Present.
Alive.
Raiven's not just a part of me anymore, Karl thought. He's becoming real. Tangible.
But it wasn't just Raiven.
Beneath that familiar pulse was a second rhythm—heavier, deeper, more ancient. One he hadn't consciously acknowledged, but always felt. Like thunder beneath soil.
Something was stirring inside him.
Something older.
The morning came wrapped in clouds, soft and silver above the towering spires of Valdros Academy. The sky hadn't rained, but the stones of the courtyard glistened as if the city had wept gently in its sleep.
Karl made his way through the halls without speaking. Students passed him, and though no one confronted him directly, their glances lingered.
Whispers followed him like fog.
"That's him. Team Silver. Top score."
"He didn't even fight during the trial."
"I heard he carries a Soulbind spirit in his shadow."
"Is he… dual-bonded?"
He didn't flinch.
He didn't need to.
At breakfast, Kael was already waiting, arms crossed, two untouched plates in front of him.
"You're late," he said.
"Did your mystical soulwolf keep you up all night with riddles?"
Karl took a seat. "Not exactly."
Kael pushed a plate toward him.
"You're on every gossip list. Nyra says she caught some second-years putting up chalk bets on when you'll explode."
Karl stared at him. "Explode?"
"Like—mentally, magically, dramatically. You're trending, man."
Karl took a bite of the bread but didn't taste it.
Kael leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"You felt it too, didn't you? Back in the forest. After the creature split and you—froze it."
Karl met his eyes.
"Yes."
A pause.
Kael nodded.
"Good. Because something about you screams 'I've got more than one secret.' And not in the bad way."
After breakfast, the students were split into advanced classes for specializations.
Karl's next class was held in the Soulbind Theory Wing—a towering dome adorned with relics from ancient beast pacts. Sculptures lined the hallway leading in: dragons with wings spread, serpents coiled mid-strike, lions crowned with flame.
He paused under one statue.
A beast not named. Its body resembled a serpent but its eyes—etched in perfect detail—seemed to follow him.
Why does this feel familiar?
Inside, the room was circular, tiered like a small arena.
Professor Renia stood at the center—slender, sharp-eyed, her robes etched with glowing glyphs.
"Today," she began, "we discuss anomalies."
A few students groaned. Karl recognized the reaction—most of them thought anomalies were myth. Or worse, boring.
Renia raised her hand, and a sigil appeared in the air above her palm.
It was a soul glyph. Flickering. Unstable.
"Can anyone tell me what happens when a person becomes Soulbound to a beast they are not compatible with?"
A hand rose.
A draconic-blooded student spoke.
"The bond fails. Or fuses."
"Correct," Renia said. "And what happens if it doesn't fail?"
Silence.
Then she turned toward the class, eyes narrowing.
"Then you get something new. Something not seen in a hundred years."
The glyph above her hand split—one half blue, one violet.
Karl's heart thudded.
The same colors that pulsed in his mark.
"Dual-bonded anomalies are rare," Renia continued, "and extremely dangerous. Not because of the power they hold—but because of the instability. The soul is stretched, divided. It must constantly balance two forces."
She looked out at the students.
"If one side grows stronger, the other must rise to match… or be consumed."
Karl's grip on his seat tightened.
Raiven pulsed faintly at the back of his mind.
And from below—deep within his chest—
The other presence stirred again.
After class, Karl didn't return to the dorms.
Instead, he wandered.
The city stretched below the academy's elevated spires, and Karl stepped through the mage-arched gates that led into the mid-tier of Veyhelm.
Here, the city was alive with motion.
Markets brimming with spellbound trinkets. Vendors offering enchanted herbs, beast treats, even rune-bound scrolls that whispered prophecies to buyers with enough coin. Families of all races moved together: humans, elves, scaled-folk, beastkin, and others whose names he didn't yet know.
He passed a group of young students practicing wing glides over a shallow lake of floating crystals.
One of them—a girl with sky-blue skin and hair like flickering flame—stopped mid-flight and pointed.
"That's him!"
Karl didn't wait to hear the rest.
He ducked into a quiet street that curved upward toward a secluded overlook. From there, he could see the full outline of the Academy.
Its towers curved like arms reaching skyward. And within that structure… something was pulling at him.
The Veil mark pulsed.
So did Raiven.
And beneath both—
The heat returned.
Thick. Ancient. Hungry.
Karl knelt, placing a hand on the stone railing.
The warmth from his mark moved into his fingertips.
For a brief moment, the air shimmered before him.
And he saw it.
Not fully.
Not real.
But clear enough.
A dragon.
Formless yet enormous. Smoke for wings. Firelight for a gaze. Its head lowered toward him—not in anger, not in challenge—
But in recognition.
It knew him.
And it was waiting.
The vision faded.
Karl breathed slowly.
He didn't know how long he stood there.
But when he turned to leave, someone else was watching him from across the square.
Nareth.
Still as a statue, hands in his cloak. Eyes unreadable.
He said nothing.
But he nodded once.
Like a piece of the puzzle had just clicked into place.
Karl didn't return the nod.
But his thoughts burned.
Two beasts.
Two echoes inside him.
And neither one had spoken their true name yet.