Kael Vorn's boots crunched on the frost-dusted gravel as he followed Flick through the manor's overgrown garden, the morning air sharp with the scent of damp earth and decay. The council loomed ahead, a specter of judgment that made his stomach churn, but for now, he needed to breathe, to think. His new body—slight, barely sixteen, and frustratingly weak—ached from a sleepless night haunted by Elara's cold eyes and the horned shadow's cryptic words: Thrice broken. His uncle's scorn, A Beast Tamer? You shame us, echoed in his ears, mingling with the servants' whispers. Yet Flick's snarky presence, hopping ahead with its shimmering fur, was a tether to sanity in this alien world of Eryndral. Kael's hands tightened around his tattered cloak, the wolf-and-flame crest rough under his fingers. He wasn't nothing—not anymore.
The garden was a tangle of thorns and wilted roses, its stone paths cracked, statues toppled into mossy heaps. Moonlight lingered in the sky, pale against the gray dawn, casting long shadows that seemed to writhe. Flick darted between gnarled bushes, its starlit fur glinting like a beacon. "Move it, kid," it called, voice sharp with mock impatience. "You're slower than a drunk ogre." Kael managed a weak smile, the bunny's sass a strange comfort. He didn't understand why a talking rabbit was his only ally, but its confidence sparked a flicker of hope in his chest.
He paused by a broken fountain, its basin dry save for a puddle reflecting his gaunt face. The boy staring back—dark hair, sharp gray eyes—was a stranger, yet the pain in his gaze was all too familiar. Elara's betrayal cut deeper than ever, her words a relentless loop: You're nothing. Now, reborn in a world that despised him, he faced a council that might seal his fate. "Flick," he said, voice low, "what happens if the council decides I'm… useless?"
Flick hopped onto the fountain's edge, nibbling a stray leaf with exaggerated nonchalance. "They'll probably exile you to some monster-infested swamp. Or feed you to a wyrm. Standard noble nonsense." It tilted its head, eyes glinting. "But you've got me, so you're already ahead of the game. Now, quit moping and keep up."
Kael's lips twitched, a spark of defiance flaring. "Some ally," he muttered, following Flick deeper into the garden. The air grew heavier, the hum of magic stronger, as if the ground itself pulsed with secrets. He didn't know what a Beast Tamer was, but Flick's words last night—You feel things, deeply—stuck with him. If that was his edge, he'd use it. He had to.
A soft rustle broke his thoughts. Ahead, in a clearing ringed by thorny vines, something moved—a small shape, shimmering like moonlight on water. Kael froze, heart pounding. "Flick?" he whispered, but the bunny was already there, its fur bristling. The shape hopped into view: another bunny, its fur glowing with an ethereal silver, its eyes sharp with an intelligence that matched Flick's. It tilted its head, sizing Kael up, then spoke in a voice like a blade wrapped in silk. "Late to your own rebirth, huh? Sloppy, kid."
Kael's jaw dropped, his mind scrambling. "Another talking bunny?" he said, voice cracking. Flick snorted, hopping forward to face the newcomer. "Oi, shiny, this is my human," it said, tail twitching. "Find your own." The new bunny's eyes narrowed, a smirk curling its lips. "Yours? He looks like he'll trip over his own cloak. I'm Flick, by the way. The real Flick."
Kael blinked, confusion mounting. "Wait—you're both Flick?" The bunnies glared at each other, fur puffing up like rival cats. The first Flick—his Flick—snapped, "I was here first, impostor." The second Flick laughed, a sound both playful and sharp. "First? I've been hopping through time since before you were a sparkle in a ley line. This kid's got potential, and I'm claiming him."
Kael's head spun. Time-hopping? Ley lines? He stepped between them, hands raised. "Enough! One of you explain what's going on before I lose it." His voice trembled, but the spark of anger from last night burned brighter. He was done being lost, done being mocked. The bunnies paused, exchanging a look that felt oddly conspiratorial.
The second Flick sighed, hopping closer. "Fine. I'm the real Flick, a time-hopping spirit beast tied to Eryndral's ley lines. That one—" it jerked its head at the first Flick—"is a fragment, a copy. We're both here because you're a Beast Tamer, Kael Vorn. Your bloodline's got a knack for attracting trouble like us."
Kael's heart raced. "A fragment?" He looked at his Flick, whose ears drooped slightly. "You didn't mention that." His Flick muttered, "Didn't think it mattered. I'm still me. And I'm still your ally, kid." The real Flick smirked. "Sure, but I'm the upgrade. Stick with me, Kael, and I'll show you what a Beast Tamer can really do."
Kael's chest tightened, Elara's betrayal flashing in his mind. Trust was a fragile thing, and now two bunnies claimed to be his guide. But as he looked at his Flick, its eyes glinted with the same loyalty that had pulled him from despair last night. The new Flick's confidence was tempting, but there was something raw, real, in his Flick's defiance. He knelt, meeting his Flick's gaze. "You stayed with me," he said softly. "You didn't have to."
His Flick's ears perked, a grin spreading. "Damn right. I'm not some fancy time-hopper, but I've got your back." The real Flick huffed, but Kael felt a strange warmth, a pull in his chest like a thread tightening. It wasn't just instinct—it was deeper, a connection that hummed with the same magic as the runes. "I choose you," he said to his Flick, voice firm. "But you—" he turned to the real Flick—"stick around. I need answers."
The real Flick's eyes widened, then narrowed with amusement. "Bold move, kid. Alright, I'll tag along. But don't blame me when you trip over fate." Kael's Flick smirked. "He's my human. You're just the sidekick." The air shimmered, and the real Flick's form flickered, merging into Kael's Flick in a burst of silver light. The bunny staggered, its fur now brighter, eyes sharper. "Well, that's new," it said, voice a blend of both Flicks—dry, sharp, and a touch playful. "Guess we're one now. Call it a contract, kid. You're stuck with me."
Kael's breath caught, the word contract ringing in his mind. The hum of magic surged, warmth spreading through his chest. He felt Flick's presence—not just beside him, but within him, a bond forged by his choice. "What just happened?" he asked, voice shaky.
Flick hopped onto his shoulder, lighter than before. "You tamed me, dummy. Beast Tamers don't just boss beasts around—they connect, heart to heart. You felt my loneliness, didn't you? That's why I'm here." It paused, smirking. "Also, I can hop through time now. Perks of the upgrade."
Kael's mind reeled. Loneliness? He'd felt it, a mirror to his own pain, when he'd looked into Flick's eyes. Elara's betrayal had left him raw, but that pain had let him see Flick's, too. "So, I'm… bonded to you?" he asked, touching his chest where the warmth lingered.
"Yup," Flick said, nibbling his cloak. "You're my tamer, I'm your beast. We're in this mess together. Now, let's get out of this creepy garden before the council sends goons." It hopped down, leading Kael toward a rusted gate. "Oh, and that time-hopping thing? Don't ask me to rewind too far. Gives me a headache."
Kael followed, his heart lighter despite the council's shadow. The bond with Flick was real, a spark of power in a world that scorned him. But as they reached the gate, a figure stepped from the shadows—a servant, his eyes glinting with malice. "The council's ready, runt," he sneered, a dagger flashing in his hand. "Time to face your fate."
Kael's pulse spiked, Elara's laughter echoing in the man's scorn. Flick's fur bristled, its voice low. "Stay sharp, kid. This one's trouble." Kael nodded, the bond's warmth steadying him. He didn't know what the council held, or why this servant's eyes burned with hate, but he wouldn't run. Not again.