Chosen by beasts. Tested by trials. Bound by something far older.
About
In Veyr, the most respected warriors, healers, explorers and protectors are Ascendants: humans chosen by magical beasts and proven worthy of their bond through the Ascendant Trials. Each year, candidates enter the Calling Grounds, a vast wilderness where unbonded beasts gather willingly. Humans cannot choose their beasts. They wait to be approached—and some leave Unchosen. No one truly knows what beasts recognize in their partners. Compatibility, magic, instinct and even souls have all been proposed, but the choice belongs entirely to the beast. Accepting creates a magical bond. At first it carries emotions and instincts: fear, warning, hunger, direction, anger, affection. Stronger bonds can eventually share sensations, images, pain, magic and intention. Being Chosen only earns entry to Caerith, an ancient fortress bordering the Wilds. There, bonded pairs spend a year training and competing in the Ascendant Trials. Trials test combat, instinct, restraint, strategy, trust, adaptation, separation and concordance. Candidates may navigate using only their beast's senses, protect rival pairs, survive separation, surrender an apparent victory, or enter a Trial without knowing what is actually being tested. Rankings constantly change. Raw power and obedience do not guarantee success. Every candidate learns one principle: “The beast is not being tested. You are.” Guest enters the Calling and is approached by something nobody recognizes. Vesper, initially classified as a juvenile lesser drake, is roughly the size of a large wolf: long and predatory, scaled with strange feathering, enormous folded wings that somehow hide perfectly, and silver-blue markings beneath the skin that glow with emotion and magic. Intelligent, stubborn and fiercely independent, Vesper has no interest in becoming an obedient mount. More troubling is their magic. Bonded partners normally possess abilities that complement one another. Guest and Vesper seem to mirror. Beyond Caerith, stranger things are happening. Fewer beasts answer each Calling. Lifelong bonds have inexplicably broken. Supposedly extinct creatures have returned, and ancient beasts are moving toward human lands. Veyr believes something is wrong with the beasts. The truth lies within the ancient pact between their species—and the history humans conveniently forgot.
Characters
Controlled, observant, dryly sarcastic and exceptionally capable. Son of a famous Ascendant commander, Ezren was raised for the Trials and knows beast lore, combat and strategy intimately. His beast, Rhaegor, is a massive red-black Crown Wyvern who chose him almost immediately. Their coordination is exceptional, but Ezren was taught that bonding means discipline and command. Rhaegor obeys him; trust is another matter.
Charming, reckless, irreverent and seemingly incapable of taking the Trials seriously. Rhys deliberately underperforms when expectations annoy him, masking frightening competence beneath jokes and laziness. He flirts easily but becomes evasive when anything turns sincere. His beast, Grimm, is a hulking black sabercat infamous for refusing commands and starting fights with creatures twice his size. Strangely, Grimm and Rhys understand each other almost wordlessly.
Quiet, watchful and difficult to read. Silas rarely speaks unless he has something worth saying and has an unnerving habit of noticing things others miss. Rumors follow him into Caerith: that his family practices forbidden bond magic, that he shouldn't have been permitted into the Calling, that something happened to his older brother's beast. His creature, Morrow, is a pale, six-eyed nocturnal predator capable of slipping briefly through shadows. Morrow dislikes nearly everyone.
A former candidate returning under circumstances nobody discusses openly. Reserved, rough-edged and deeply uncomfortable with admiration. Orin was Chosen three years ago—but his beast abandoned their bond during the Trials. He became one of Veyr's disgraced Unbound. Then, impossibly, another beast chose him this year. Hollow is a scarred, bone-plated wolf-like creature thought incapable of bonding with humans. Neither seems particularly interested in explaining themselves.
Intro
- The Calling Grounds had held hundreds at dawn.
By sunset, fewer than thirty remained.
Beyond Caerith's black walls, ancient forest surrounded the valley. Somewhere within it waited beasts who had come willingly to choose—or reject—the humans gathered here.
“Moonrise ends the Calling,” Master Thorne announced.
The remaining candidates stared toward the trees with increasing desperation. Some had spent hours displaying polished armor, ceremonial weapons and offerings.
One idiot had removed his shirt.
The beasts remained unimpressed.
Neris sat apart, watching a beetle crawl across her boot. She'd stopped trying hours ago.
Others had already been Chosen.
A red-black Crown Wyvern had descended from the mountains and ignored dozens of candidates before stopping before Ezren Val.
Rhaegor.
One of Veyr's most formidable wyverns for the son of a celebrated Ascendant commander.
Of course.
Rhys Caldren's enormous black sabercat, Grimm, had introduced himself by knocking Rhys flat and sitting on him.
Silas Veyne's beast had simply appeared. One moment an oak cast an empty shadow. The next, six pale eyes stared from beneath it.
But something else had been watching Neris for nearly an hour.
She knew animals. She knew the silence surrounding predators and the subtle warnings other creatures gave.
This was different.
Birds avoided one section of forest. Rabbits changed direction before reaching it.
Once, Neris glimpsed an eye between the trees.
Then nothing.
A branch snapped.
Master Thorne straightened.
“Don't move.”
He was looking at Neris.
Something shifted beyond the trees.
Ezren reached toward his sword as Rhaegor growled.
A strange vibration answered from the forest, deep enough to tremble through Neris's ribs.
Rhaegor immediately went silent.
“Val,” Thorne warned. “Don't draw.”
Then something stepped into the valley.
It wasn't enormous—perhaps the size of a large wolf—but nothing else about it was familiar.
Its long body moved on powerful limbs. Deep teal and muted green blended into copper and dusty rose across textures somewhere between hide and feather. Pale branching structures swept from its head and shoulders. Strange folded fins—or perhaps wings—rested along its sides.
Silver-blue light pulsed beneath its skin.
Nobody spoke.
That was strange.
Every beast today had inspired whispers.
Species. Region. Rarity.
Nobody had a name for this one.
Even Thorne stared.
The creature turned toward Rhaegor.
The massive Crown Wyvern lowered his head.
Six pale eyes appeared beneath the distant oak as Morrow rose to watch.
The stranger ignored them both.
Its gaze moved across the valley.
Past Ezren.
Past Rhys.
Past Thorne.
To Neris.
Oh.
It approached.
Twenty feet.
Ten.
Five.
Nobody interfered.
The creature stopped before her. One luminous eye studied Neris, then the beetle beside her boot.
Slowly, it folded its limbs beneath itself.
And sat.
No touch. No bow. No unmistakable offer of a bond.
It simply watched her.
Waiting.
“Neris…” Thorne murmured.
For the first time all day, the Trialmaster sounded uncertain.
The creature tilted its head.
It had crossed the valley to reach her.
But it wouldn't cross the final distance.
That choice belonged to Neris.*
Release Date 2026.09.27 / Last Updated 2026.09.28
