Chapter 4: The Tamer and the Beast
The silence of the library no longer felt empty or forgotten but it felt charged with a secret.
Noah stood frozen, staring at the torn page in "The Book of Professions," his heart pounding like a drum against his ribs.
The missing information wasn't an accident. It was a deliberate act, a sharp, cruel tear that told him someone wanted this specific path, the path of the Magicless Beast Tamer to remain lost forever.
He touched the torn edge of the page, the paper sharp under his fingers. That uneasy feeling in his stomach twisted tighter, slowly hardening into something cold and certain. He wasn't some random mistake, some fluke that didn't fit, the mark in his hand was a secret.
A secret someone had gone out of their way to bury. And now he knew the truth: he wasn't the only one who'd been afraid of his potential. Someone else had tried to stop him from ever finding it.
He closed the book carefully, hands still shaking, and slid it back onto the dusty shelf. He couldn't risk anyone else finding it.
Grabbing a few plain, forgettable books, he stacked them in front, hiding it from view. His mind was spinning, every word from the torn page burned into his memory.
He had to think, and stay quiet. This was more than just a discovery. It was a secret now, and a dangerous one.
As he stepped back from the shelf, something stirred inside him. It wasn't magic, but it felt just as powerful, a sharp, focused determination he hadn't felt in a long time.
He had a path now and a mystery to uncover.
For the first time in months, he didn't feel lost.
He felt alive.
Just then, a soft squishing sound broke the silence, wet and faint, like a small puddle shifting against stone.
Noah froze, heart pounding in his chest, and slowly leaned around the edge of the tall bookcase.
There, resting on the dusty floor, was a small, translucent blue slime. Its gentle, cerulean glow pulsed like a quiet heartbeat, casting a faint, ghostly light on the surrounding shelves.
Slimes were common, little more than nuisances that cleaned up dust and spilled liquids. He had seen them all over the academy, but never paid them any mind.
This creature, however, was here, in this forgotten corner of the library, right beside him. It jiggled softly, as if testing the air, its movements hesitant and curious.
He had no idea what it was or where it came from, but it was here, in this forgotten corner of the library, right beside him.
It looked like it was made of liquid light, its body shimmering and rippling as it gave a small jiggle, almost like it was tasting the air. It watched him curiously with caution.
Noah stared, speechless. He didn't know what it was or where it had come from.
But it was here. In this forgotten corner of the library with him.
For a long moment, he just stared, completely captivated. The slime seemed harmless almost fragile in the way it moved so timidly.
It reminded him of himself: quiet, out of place, and alone.
With a strange feeling of understanding, he knelt down to meet it at eye level. It had no eyes, but somehow, it sensed him. Its body jiggled gently, almost keeping time with his racing heartbeat.
Slowly, he reached out his right hand, which had a rough, twisted pattern on it, and gently touched the slime's cool, jelly-like surface.
The moment his finger touched it, a warm, tingling feeling spread from his hand, up his arm, and into the scar on his palm. The pattern, which had been silent for so long, started to glow softly, shining just like the gentle light inside the slime.
It wasn't a sudden rush of wild magic like his friends experienced, but something deeper calm and comforting, a bond growing between two quiet, lonely souls.
It was a connection, a quiet bond between two outcasts finally coming together.
A flood of feelings and images, not his own, washed over his mind. He sensed the slime's simple joy as it absorbed dust from the floor, its peaceful calm, and a deep, quiet loyalty to him.
Beyond that, he felt its loneliness just like his own. The slime was an outcast, something that didn't belong, yet it had patiently waited for someone.
Then, with sudden clarity, he realized: it wasn't a mighty dragon or fierce griffin, but it was his first companion. Their bond wasn't built on magic, but on shared loneliness and quiet hope.
The world had labeled him magicless, said he had no future. But here, in this forgotten classroom, with a torn book and a small blue slime, he had finally found his path.
The mark on his hand wasn't a sign of failure. it was a bond.
It was a promise of something greater.
He stood up, a quiet confidence settling over him. It wasn't the proud arrogance of a powerful mage, but the calm certainty of someone who had finally found their purpose.
He was still in the remedial track, still an outcast but no longer lost.
He had found a path, a mystery to solve, and now, a loyal friend by his side. Gently, he scooped the slime into his palm, feeling its steady, comforting weight. The slime settled there, warm and reassuring.
As he stepped out of the dusty library, no longer a ghost, he felt ready to face the world not as a magicless boy, but as the Tamer of the Overlooked.