The first scream came at dawn.
Not a cry of pain, but of awakening — deep, echoing, carried through the bones of the world. From the mountains to the lowlands, from the whispering forests to the stone walls of the Guild Citadel, the sound rippled outward like the toll of an invisible bell.
Birds scattered from their perches. Rivers stilled. Every beast — tamed, caged, collared — lifted its head toward the sky.
And in that suspended moment, every mark of the Oath shimmered.
The air within the Guild cracked with invisible tension. Chains glowed along the corridors — links of light trembling as if unsure whether to hold or shatter.
High above the training fields, Master Ardeon stood on the balcony, his crimson cloak flapping in the wind. Below him, hundreds of Hunters stared in confusion at their beasts — creatures twisting, snarling, eyes glowing with fierce awareness that hadn't existed a breath before.
"What in the—" a captain began.
Then the first bond broke.
A thunderclap of power tore across the fields. A Hunter's sigil burst into flame, searing through armor, and the beast bound to him — a massive steel-fanged drake — threw back its head and roared, unshackled will flooding its veins. The man screamed as their connection snapped, blood spraying from his nose, his eyes burning white.
The drake turned on him.
"Contain it!" Ardeon shouted, his voice cracking like a whip. "Activate the barrier—!"
Too late. The containment sigils carved into the arena floor flickered, sputtered, and died.
Dozens more bonds broke.
The air erupted in chaos — beasts lashing out, Hunters screaming, the scent of scorched metal and blood filling the dawn.
From the observation tower, Elder Vynn watched it unfold, his gaunt face carved in pale disbelief. "It's spreading," he murmured. "Every bonded creature within a thousand leagues…"
A messenger burst through the door, panting. "Sir—the frontier posts—reports of beasts going feral, Hunters collapsing—some are—"
The man stopped. His eyes rolled back. The mark on his neck ignited like molten gold, and he fell, dead before he hit the floor.
Vynn turned slowly toward the eastern window, where the first light of morning poured through smoke. "The Oath has been touched."
His reflection in the glass — ancient, weary — stared back. "No," he whispered. "The Oath has been broken."
---
Miles away, deep in the untamed Wild, Ethan awoke to a silence that felt… different.
Not the oppressive kind that swallowed sound, but something new — a stillness filled with breathing life.
He sat up slowly, muscles aching, lungs burning with each breath. Around him, the valley shimmered under the new light. The mist was gone. The petrified bones, once grey and lifeless, pulsed faintly with color. Tiny orbs of light drifted through the air — remnants of the Elder Bond's essence.
Lyra sat nearby, tending a small fire. Shadowfang lay behind her, massive body curled protectively around them both, flames rippling across his scales like restless thoughts.
"You were out for almost a full day," Lyra said softly without turning. "I thought—"
Her voice cracked. She stopped.
Ethan blinked, taking in the world around him. He could feel everything — the subtle hum of the Wild beneath the soil, the heartbeat of beasts miles away, the faint pull of light along the edge of existence.
It wasn't power. It was connection.
"What happened while I was out?" he asked quietly.
Lyra looked up, eyes weary but bright. "Everything changed."
She gestured toward the horizon. A soft golden haze shimmered there — not sunlight, but something deeper, primal.
"The Guild's control broke," she said. "Every bonded creature felt it. Some went mad. Some… woke."
Ethan's throat tightened. "And the Hunters?"
"Half of them dead or collapsed. The others running. The Guild's citadel was in flames by morning."
He swallowed hard. "And the world?"
Lyra smiled faintly, though it didn't reach her eyes. "The world is finally breathing."
A long silence passed.
Ethan reached out, brushing his fingers through the ashes of the fire. The faint light danced over his skin, tracing lines where his sigil once burned. Gone — yet something else pulsed faintly in its place, invisible but real.
"Shadowfang," he murmured. "You feel it too?"
The beast lifted his head, eyes like molten suns. Yes, came the low, rumbling answer in his mind. The chains are gone. But something new is stirring. A pulse beneath the freed world. The balance trembles.
Ethan frowned. "A consequence?"
Always.
Lyra's serpent hissed softly, curling tighter around her arm. "We freed them, Ethan. But freedom is wild. The beasts will rise. The Guild will strike back harder than ever. And the Oath… it might not be done with you."
He met her gaze. "Then we move before they do."
"Move where?" she asked. "The Guild will hunt you now. You're the face of this rebellion — the one who broke the first chain. Every lord, every Hunter, every frightened noble will want your head."
"Let them come." Ethan stood, stretching his aching limbs. "I didn't break those chains to run. I did it so we could finally fight on equal ground."
He looked toward the rising light. "If the Oath was born from betrayal, then we'll end it with choice. For all of them."
Lyra sighed, standing beside him. "You talk like a man planning to die."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm planning to live differently."
Shadowfang rumbled approvingly. The path of the unbound is never safe, but it is true.
---
By midday, they reached the ridge overlooking the borderlands. What had once been barren plains were now alive with color — forests blooming overnight, rivers glittering with strange luminescence. Yet beauty came with chaos.
In the distance, smoke curled from ruined watchtowers. Winged beasts soared overhead, newly freed, their roars echoing across the land. Hunters fled in caravans, their mounts bucking them off mid-flight.
And at the heart of it all, rising like a wound against the sky, stood the Guild Citadel — half its towers collapsed, its banners burning.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
Lyra shaded her eyes. "They'll regroup. You know that. The Guild doesn't die easy."
"They don't have to," Ethan said quietly. "They just need to remember what they forgot."
"What's that?"
He looked at her — eyes calm, steady. "That the bond was never about control."
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Then we start there."
---
In the heart of the collapsing Citadel, Elder Vynn descended into the lower sanctum — a chamber that hadn't been opened in centuries.
The air was heavy with incense and old stone. At the center stood a vast seal, carved into the floor — an ancient sigil that pulsed faintly with blue light.
He knelt before it. "You told us this day would never come," he whispered. "That the Oath would hold forever."
The seal flickered. A cold, hollow voice emerged from beneath it — ancient, dry, filled with malice.
> Forever was never a promise. It was a debt.
Vynn's breath hitched. "Then it's true… the boy—he broke the first chain."
> Then the others will stir. The old ones will wake. And the Wild will reclaim what was stolen.
The voice grew darker, deeper.
> But remember this, mortal — the one who unbinds also becomes the key. Find him. Before the Wild does.
Vynn bowed his head, trembling. "Yes, my lord."
As he rose, the seal dimmed. The silence returned — but it was no longer empty. It was listening.
---
Back on the ridge, as dusk painted the horizon in blood and gold, Ethan stood watching the world below.
The wind carried distant roars, songs of freedom and fury intertwined.
He didn't know whether he'd saved the world or doomed it — only that the path ahead would demand everything.
Lyra joined him, arms crossed. "Whatever comes next… you're not facing it alone."
He smiled faintly. "Neither are they."
Shadowfang rose beside him, wings spreading wide, embers swirling through the twilight.
The first hunt of the unbound was about to begin.
---