Guards quickly escorted to the Elders' Hall, where questions were waiting. Sharp, urgent, and laced with disbelief. How could someone like Iska have been taken down? River stood silent as the others explained: the shadows, the glowing runes, the earth itself shaking. The elders' faces darkened with every word. The Elders had felt it too.

  But River had already tuned out. His stood there, but his mind was elsewhere—reaching forward, toward the one thing that pulled him out of the haze: His bonded. He was finally going to meet her, not through essence, not through instinct, but for real. His gaze drifted across the room. And for the first time, he noticed something. Amalia. Albert. The others. Their essence was different. Stronger. Sharper. More stable. They had become Tier Three mages. He could see it wrapped around their fingers, just as it was his. Pushing your limits wasn’t just a test of strength, but a catalyst for growth in magic too. When the questioning finally slowed, the elders dismissed them to confer on what came next.

  Apparently, the elders needed time to discuss what would come next. River didn’t wait. He rushed down the stairs and out of the hall, feet hitting stone hard.

  His friends called after him, trying to catch up. “What’s wrong?” Albert called behind him.

  River didn’t even turn his head. “She hatched.” That was all it took. The others picked up their pace, falling into step beside him — then breaking into a jog. They ran the rest of the way. When they burst into the house, River’s eyes immediately scanned the room. Tessa and Nymeira squealed and leapt toward their bonded, clawing at legs and grunting in excitement.

  River's gaze flicked to the table.

  The egg was cracked open. Empty.

  But he could feel it—the bond pulsed, strong and warm, as if it was calling.

  His eyes dropped beneath the table. The small bird had fallen off the countertop; her brilliant red feathers were lined with gold.

  He had known what had hatched before he saw it. A phoenix.

  She was radiant—bright as fire, and impossibly elegant; fragile. River fell in love at that moment. He couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful.

  The others turned slowly, staring at her in awe. River stepped forward, a smile curling at the edge of his lips.

  “This is Calira,” he said quietly. A name to honor his friend—and still be true to the majestic creature before him. Their eyes went wide. Too wide. As if he’d said something dangerous. Silence stretched. Then Amalia broke it.

  “We might just be Lady Luck’s favorites.”

  They all agreed but stood there unable to speak—each of them focused on their own bonded.

  It was… nice. A rare moment of peace.

  A distraction from the disaster that had nearly broken them hours before. They were still standing like that when the door slammed open and Kamir burst into the house. He stopped cold the moment his eyes landed on the phoenix. His gaze locked onto Calira’s. Then, in a voice almost reverent, he said:

  “Phoenixes only bond with Primordials. One hasn’t been seen here since the Sylas.

  The room was quiet as River digested that. One of the Pantheon had been the last to bond with a phoenix. What would that mean for him?”

  Kamir turned to River, eyes sharp. “You’re ready.” River blinked still processing.

  “Ready for what?” But Kamir was already gone, slipping out the door without another word. River stood frozen, staring after him, the phoenix’s warmth the only thing keeping the creeping fear at bay. The silence that followed was somehow louder than his arrival. River glanced at the others, who looked just as confused. “Right,” he muttered. “Let’s… take them outside. Fresh air might help.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  They nodded. Together, they stepped out onto the outskirts of town, letting the soft night wind wash over them. The stars burned bright overhead, and the sand was still hot beneath their feet. They sat together, quiet, watching. Tessa and Nymeira — now each about the size of a small cat — wobbled in the sand, circling each other, nipping and tumbling in playful chaos.

  Calira, still small enough to rest in River’s palm, simply watched.

  Her golden eyes followed the others with fascination.

  Through the bond, River felt her curiosity—bright and amused.

  She wasn’t just watching. She was learning. And for the first time in days, River let himself relax. They stayed there as the night faded into dawn. The cool air warmed with the rising sun, but they didn’t move. Not right away. The bonded creatures were still young — energy came in bursts.

  Play gave way to sleep, then back to play again. Each time they stirred, River could sense Calira’s emotions ripple through the bond.

  Amusement. Curiosity. A flicker of jealousy. She wanted to join them.

  He smiled. “Soon,” he murmured, scratching her gently on the head. Her feathers shimmered faintly under his touch — and her emotions slowly quieted.

  The jealousy faded, replaced by something softer. She nestled into his palm and drifted into a deep sleep. By morning, they returned to the house.

  Amalia and Albert were starving — and so were their bonded companions. The kitchen filled quickly with the sounds of clinking plates and eager chewing. Even the little creatures tucked into their food like it was the best thing they’d ever had. River sat at the table, content to watch. For the first time in forever, things felt almost normal.

  Until the door burst open.

  Kamir stepped inside. But this time, he wasn’t alone. The elders followed behind him, faces set and serious. River stood still, Calira cradled gently in his arms. The elders didn’t speak.

  They simply stared—their eyes locked on him, unreadable, as if they expected him to act first.

  He set Calira on the couch.

  She didn’t stir. The silence stretched until Kamir finally spoke.

  “It’s time for you to go to the temple.”

  River blinked. He’d been there before—many times, actually—but never like this.

  “Okay,” he said cautiously.

  No one explained.

  They turned and walked out.

  Albert and Amalia made to follow—but Kamir raised a hand and stopped them cold.

  “Not this time.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it left no room for argument. River looked back at them once. He forced a smile. Weak, but enough for them to stay. River then turned and walked behind the elders.

  The silence around him pressed down like armor. The farther they walked, the more he sensed that something was different this time. As they approached the temple, he noticed a crowd gathered at its base.

  Dozens of eyes turned toward him—quiet, unmoving.

  They watched like hawks sizing prey.

  Every step closer made it worse. No one spoke. But everyone watched. His throat tightened. His mouth went dry, the words like sand on his tongue.

  Emotion threatened to rise—panic, confusion, fear—but he pushed through it. He reached out across the bond. Calira, still asleep, pulsed gently at the edge of his mind. Warmth flooded him. She didn’t stir… but somehow, she knew.

  And that was enough. The emotion settled.

  His feet moved again. They climbed the steps—each one stretching out endlessly yet disappearing too soon. Then he was inside. A room he had never seen before.

  It was massive. Every footstep echoed through the high stone chamber, swallowed by shadowed arches and pillars that stretched into darkness. Kamir and the elders stopped behind him. They gestured forward, toward the far end, where a throne waited.

  Or an altar. Maybe both. A place for judgment… or sacrifice. River couldn’t tell which. River hesitated, then alone, he stepped forward.

  With each step, the silence deepened, and he wondered what waited for him at the end.