"That's so sick!!! Thalia tamed a Fae-Beast! Those are pretty rare. Am I wrong to be jealous?" Martha whispered excitedly as they silently traveled through a jungle biome full of glow-petal flowers, explosive coconuts and Drop-Bear prey remains.
"No. Thalia will go far with a Dire-Dryad. I think we all want something like that." Max said as he shook his head and tried to blink past the thick fog and humidity.
"Something like what?" Martha asked.
"Something that fits."
Martha used her WarHammer like a cane as they made their way through a thick portion of woodland, "I guess that does fit. You remember when she first showed up in our class— in like first grade, and she said her grandpa was a betrayed forest king or whatever?"
"Yea. I remember…" Max replied.
"Maybe she'll become a forest queen." Martha mused.
"Maybe." Max replied as a flock of jungle birds flew past him overhead.
"So, do you have a plan or are have we just been traveling aimlessly for the past fifteen minutes?" Martha asked.
"I'm getting us to the valley and grasslands…. or Savannah." Max said.
"What— so you have easier shots?" Martha asked.
"No, so you can find your beast." Max said.
"Who's to say my beast isn't in the jungle?" Martha asked slyly. "I can feel my Psymana flow reaching out past the trees. Maybe I'll connect with something in here."
"Everyone's to say you won't touch a thing in here." Max replied, "We've all seen how you work with beasts of burden. You're most likely to form a bond with a horse….. or rhino…. Or bull. Jungle biomes have few Tank class Beasts."
Martha clicked her teeth. "True…" Then she raised an eyebrow, "But….. they do have a lot of Prolwer, Descender and Tracker based Beasts. Meaning, while we're here, we could find your b—"
Max stopped dead in his tracks with his bow raised. His eyes scanned the foggy trail ahead following the discovery of claw marks on a tree. Specifically, claw marks making a double stacked x.
Martha found the marking soon after and cursed.
"Shit….. we're in river-tiger territory—"
Her words were cut short as a flash of darkness flew in their direction.
They moved on instinct. They were just kids from the grove. You didn't run into tigers and giant fae-beasts ever. Everything you saw you had to kill or else you might miss dinner.
Max dropped low and dashed backward.
At the same time, Martha charged forward and swung her hammer high.
Whatever she hit, let out an irritated hiss and hit the ground with a roll.
As it recovered with a doggish shake, Max and Martha hesitated.
"Speak of the devil-beast." Martha sighed, "I'm sorry, kitty. Reflexes."
"You're apologizing to it?" Max asked as he raised his bow with an arrow at the ready.
"Of course I am, stupid. She's here for you." Martha stepped aside and grabbed Max's bow arm, slowly making him drop aim.
The river-tiger paced in front of them slowly.
It was larger. About the same size as northern tigers, but it was slimmer— it didn't need the extra bodyfat to combat the cold. It was also covered in short greasy fur that helped it zip through rivers with ease. It's fur was dark brown instead of orange and it only had three stripes running down its back.
Max eyed the creature. It was beautiful. Thick powerful ropes of muscle in its shoulders and hind legs snapped and relaxed with every step. It's webbed paws were ripped by poisonous claws. The same poison coated it's sabered fangs.
River-tigers were a good starter-beast. They were independent, gave you access to the Terramana nature of poison and Semi-Aquatic transformations. Better yet, they offered the reactivity magic of Revenge. An Upper tier offensive-support beast to say the least.
And it saw potential in Max.
In all his sweaty, disoriented and partially injured glory.
"We could take down the last of the Beast-Hunter gangs back home." Max thought.
As if the river-tiger could read his mind, she purred in vengeful agreement.
Max had never had anyone support his ideas of revenge. Or righting an injustice. He'd kept it deep in his mind behind layers of trauma, pain and anger. The tiger waded through the dark jungles of his mental and found him alone. Waiting.
It was then that poisonous green and black flows of Psionic energies flowed from the felines head.
Max's armhair stood on end. Goosebumps lined his flesh. The Wolven howls died down just enough that he could hear the purrs. He could smell river waters. He could see better in the dark.
A coolness began to centralize in his skull as his senses sharpened. It was like he was taking his head out of a box and facing the true world for the first time.
He could feel other life forms. Inviting snares of thought and instinct that pulled at his psyche. But few were as strong and focused on him as the river-tiger.
It stood in the distance with magical threads and tendrils of flowing Psymana reaching out to him.
Each cord held different elements of its psyche. The hunt. Swimming. Stalking. Cultivating poisonous fang biomes. Listening underwater for giant draconic sarcos.
When Max's own threads and reaching limbs of Psymana connected with the tiger, he felt his senses sharpen further. And with it, the memories and instinctual urges combined.
The swims in the river became great deep sea battles he dominated against beast-hunter gangs with his poisonous fang and claw.
The listening for draconic sarcos became hunts on land with Max's bow and his tamed ally on standby.
Some of the memories and instincts were failures. The river-tiger wasn't as active as Max. And Max wasn't as strong as the ideal tiger master. But the shortcomings were few and far between.
Almost all of their Psymana flows had connected.
It was miraculous. A connection of mind, soul and body. A connection of instinct and memories. A oneness of existential ideals. A howling….
"Howling…?"
It was growing louder. Joined by territorial barks and snarls with so much force they cracked the newly formed Psymana bonds between Max and the tiger.
The howling was back in full— stunning, effect.
Joined now by a voice.
"Not this one!"
Max followed the sound to the trees above the tiger and found a figure crouching there. Cloaked in the shadows cast by the dense canopy. Cloaked in a cloak. Even so, he could tell the figure was female by the subtle peeks of porcelain flesh and flows of curly shadow-black hair that fell from the hood.
"….you again." He saw her purple eyes finally.
She growled and dropped her gaze immediately. With little hesitation after, she dropped from the trees, pouncing on the tiger and grabbing it up before jumping back into the canopy to run away.
Max barely got an arrow on his string. He felt nauseous. Even more than before thanks to his taming process being interrupted.
Max cursed, "She could've killed me. Interrupting a tame is a serious crime! She's trying to kill me. I have to be faster. For some reason I'm being hunted by a psycho—"
"Max!" Martha yelled from behind him, "You bring that river-tiger to our team yet? We're being hunted by psychos!"
"I hate coincidence…" Max turned around and tried not to pass out.
Martha stood guarding his flank with a massive piece of tree held up like a riot shield. Stone tipped spears stuck through it, cutting her arms and shoulders, but she stood strong. For him.
Quickly, she opened her eyes and looked at Max.
"Awe— dude! What happened?!"
Max looked at his reflection in the surface of her hammer facing him and nearly gagged.
One of his eyes was slitted like a cat and glowing green and yellow. The other was half shifted leaving his pupil in a weird teardrop shape. The left side of his face had whiskers and thickened sideburns while the right had portions of his skin darkening into stripes.
His ears twitched as someone hooted. The sound was followed by three more hooting roars and a whistling through the air.
"Oh shit! Brace yourself!" Martha shut her eyes.
Max flinched as another stone spear sunk into their shield.
His bowstring snapped. He looked down at his hand and found poison tipped claws with burnt bowstring stuck to them.
"This is the worst day ever…."
"What happened?!" Martha asked.
"Someone's stalking me. They interrupted my tame." Max said.
"You think it's Nino?" Martha asked.
"Nino lost a finger the last time he messed with me. This is a woman. And she's strong as hell."
Martha shook her head, "So we have nothing…."
"Nothing."
"And were being hunted by….." Martha and Max sniffed the air at the same time.
Immediately after the two made eye contact.
"Stink…" Max growled at the foul and uniquely familiar stench.
"And Screamer." Martha replied.
Another hoot echoed this time joined by a familiar scream.
Two masses landed in front of them.
Max and Martha peeked out from behind their pierced wooden shield.
It was as they guessed.
"Hey Stink!" Martha said.
"Don't…" Max grabbed Martha and put her back behind the shield.
"What?! We've known them since were were kids!" Martha said, "If Thalia can help us, why can't they?"
"Because they are not in their right minds." Max said, "There's a concept of taming that we're not allowed to learn before entering the Tamer's Trial out of fear that none of us would participate."
"What?"
The ground shook as heavy fists beat the earth.
"Instinct Overdrive. Their Psymana bonds were hijacked by beasts too strong for them to handle. Or they were too similar to their beast on an instinctual level and lost the human aspect of themselves."
Max peeked out at his childhood— at one time, friends.
Stink and Screamer. Brother and sister like Max and Martha. Only they were twins. Their names came from obvious reasons. Stink stopped bathing when they were kids after his abusive drunk of a father tried to drown him. Screamer has anger issues. She's loud. The two of them basically lived in the forests when Max and Martha knew them. People called them apes.
Of course they'd go on to form bonds with a pair of mane-apes. Also called howlers. Monstrous savage apes descending from baboons.
They were large enough to ride and had two rows of sharp canines they bared at them with flipped lips and dark gums. In their tails, they held a bundle of stone tipped spears so their massive clawed hands could remain free.
Stink and Screamer rode on their backs, holding tufts of their manes like saddle stirrups.
They looked different. Wilder. Which seemed impossible.
Max shook himself off.
The mane-apes handed a spear to Stink and Screamer and they prepared a point black blast that would split the shield and run Max and Martha through.
"Fuck it." Max pulled both of his axes from his belt. He handed one to Martha. "I go left."
"Right it is." Martha whispered. Tears welled in her eyes.
The twin siblings threw their spears with apish roars.
At the same time, Max and Martha jumped out with their own returning attack.