Chapter 27: Breaking News

Chapter 27: Chapter 27: Breaking News

The eggs had already gone cold, but Jared ate them anyway.

Zoey hadn’t said much since the yard. She’d just handed him a fork and nodded at the food, and he’d taken it, because arguing felt like more work than chewing.

The TV murmured in the background. "...and in rookie news, the association has released its list of promising new beast masters to watch this season."

Jared paused, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth.

"Among those named are several newly awakened talents from across the country. Several respected guild leaders have already voiced interest."

A series of photos flashed across the screen. A tall girl with a blue falcon on her shoulder. A stocky boy standing beside a snarling boar. A pair of twins in matching clothes. The anchor read off a string of names with bright interest.

Then the screen changed.

A photo of him filled the frame. It was an old one, a stiff, awkward shot from his association registration, his hair a mess, his face half turned from the camera. Beneath it, a caption in bold white letters.

JARED REX.

SSS RANK GROUND DRAGON.

"Notably, Jared Rex, recently mentioned in a Golden Bear Guild documentary, remains one of the most talked about rookies of the season. Observers say his bond with his SSS rank Ground Dragon could make him one to watch."

The toast fell out of his hand.

Jared stared at the screen, the photo of himself with a dragon that no longer existed, the words SSS RANK GROUND DRAGON glowing in clean, bright capitals.

His stomach turned over.

’One to watch.’

The sentence repeated in his head, quiet and cruel. People were watching him. People were counting on him. Somewhere out there, a guild leader was reading that headline and nodding, thinking about the boy who had an SSS rank dragon and a promising future.

And the dragon was gone.

’I can’t live up to that. Not now.’

"You’re famous again!" Zoey said, nudging him with her foot. She was grinning, trying to sound cheerful. "Look at that. They used the good picture."

"That’s the bad picture."

"It’s a good bad picture."

He didn’t laugh.

Her smile faltered. She glanced at him, then back at the screen, and he could see her turning something over. She had no idea. That was the worst of it. She thought he was a boy with one SSS rank dragon that had been stolen and a SwampGorilla of unknown rank. She didn’t know about the other 9. She genuinely believed he’d been reduced to something so small.

’She must take great pity in me’

[.]

’She’s trying so hard.’

It was almost unbearable.

"You’ll get another one," she said gently. "You’ll get a new one. You’re still probably the best rookie in the country. Everyone knows it."

"Don’t."

"I’m just saying..."

"Please don’t."

She went quiet.

The anchor moved on. A story about a gate collapse in the east. This took up the rest of the program time.

One thing remained in his mind as he stared at the TV. One question, circling like a gull.

’How do I use the others?’

He had 9 SSS rank beasts in a pouch at his belt. He had the SwampGorilla, the AntBeast, the turtle, the wolf, the cat, the sun, the toad, the fish, the snake. A whole arsenal. But he couldn’t touch them. Not without questions. Not without someone noticing.

A boy with only one registered beast, who suddenly showed up with a different gem every day, was a boy who’d be investigated.

’I need a story. A reason. A believable way to let them out.’

He couldn’t think of one. His thoughts kept slipping sideways, back to the clearing.

[Rex.]

[I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen.]

He didn’t answer.

[That frost attack in the wilds. It cost more than 10,000 mana. You only saw the first part of the drop. The rest hit afterward, once the effect finished spreading.]

Jared’s jaw tightened.

[It’s a lot. It was an enormous amount. But you still had plenty left. You still had well over 80,000 in reserve. You are nowhere near empty.]

’So?’

[So you still have options.]

[You had options even then. ]

His eyes narrowed.

[If you’d been holding a second gem. If you’d kept the Position Turtle in your hand, or the Dungeon Cat, you could have done something. You could have chased the owl. You could have gotten her back.]

Jared’s fist clenched.

The system was just stating a fact.

’If I’d brought a second beast.’

The anger rose in him, slow and hot. It wasn’t directed at the system. It wasn’t even directed at the thief. It was aimed at himself.

On the TV, the anchor shuffled her papers.

"And finally, in guild news, the Golden Bear Guild’s B Team leader, Julius, has announced plans for a major gate expedition next month."

Jared’s head snapped up.

"Julius," the anchor said brightly, "who recently appeared in a popular documentary, says he is excited to lead his team into..."

Jared set the plate down on the table. He stood up so fast the couch creaked.

Zoey looked up. "Where are you going?"

"My room."

"You didn’t finish your eggs."

"Thank you for the food," he said stiffly. He didn’t look at her. "It was good."

He walked out of the living room, and to his room.

’That smug, grinning, perfectly lit...’

* * *

It was evening, but it wasn’t late enough for sleep.

Jared sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.

He’d planned to stay up. He’d planned to think. He had a hundred things to figure out, how to use the beasts, how to find the owl, how to get stronger. He sat there for a long time, going through them one by one.

Then his eyelids started to droop.

He’d spent the whole day awake. He’d spent the whole night awake before that. He’d fought the ManShrubs, frozen a forest, lost a dragon, and cried in the dirt. His body had held on this far on adrenaline and spite. Now the strain of actual combat was catching up all at once, like a tide rolling over his head.

He lay back. He told himself he’d close his eyes for just a minute.

His breathing slowed.

The room dissolved.

* * *

3 hours later, a soft knock sounded on the door.

"Jared? Dinner’s ready."

No answer.

Zoey waited. She tried again, a little louder. "Jared? I made soup. It’s the good one."

Silence.

She pushed the door open a crack and peered in.

He lay curled on his side, one arm flung over his face, the blanket tangled around his knees.

She stood in the doorway for a long moment.

’He’s asleep.’

She couldn’t bring herself to wake him. She let the door ease shut and tiptoed back down the stairs, carrying the weight of the tray in her chest.

* * *

He was in the forest.

The trees were black and endless. The ice was gone.

The branches clawed at his face. The roots grabbed at his ankles. He ran and ran, and the light grew no closer. A deep, rolling roar drifted through the trees, the sound of a Ground Dragon, hoarse and heartbroken, fading with every step.

"Wait," he called. "Wait for me."

The roar grew faint.

He burst into a clearing. There, perched on a branch above him, two bright eyes blinked slowly in the dark. A pair of massive talons flexed. Something small and red dangled between them, glowing.

"Give her back," Jared whispered.

The owl tilted its head.

"Please."

He fell.

* * *

In the real world, he groaned.

A low, hoarse sound, dragged out of his chest. He rolled over, twisting the blanket tighter around his legs.

* * *

His whole body trembled, a fine, restless shiver, as if cold water had been poured down his spine. His teeth chattered. He kicked the blanket loose and curled into a ball, knees to chest, hands over his ears.

Jared’s eyes snapped open.

He lay rigid in the dark, gasping, his heart slamming against his ribs.

He sat up slowly.

A pale glow flickered on the nightstand. He squinted at the clock.

1:04 am.

"Too early," he whispered.

He lay back down. He pulled the blanket up to his chin. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to go back to sleep.

It didn’t work.

He turned onto his side. He tried the other side. He counted backward from 100. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw those golden eyes blinking in the dark.

Minutes crawled by. 1:20. 1:35. 1:50.

He couldn’t sleep.

His throat tightened. His eyes began to sting. He almost cried. He almost let it come.

"Why?" he shouted.

The word cracked out of him, loud in the silent room. It hung in the air, raw and helpless.

"Why can’t I just..."

He didn’t finish.

He lay there, panting, staring at the ceiling.

Then the answer came to him, slow and clear, as if it had been waiting beneath the question all along.

’Because I’m not done.’

He wasn’t supposed to be sleeping. He wasn’t supposed to be lying in bed, wrapped in a blanket, waiting for morning. Someone had taken his dragon. Someone had walked away with the beast he had trained most. And he was lying here, doing nothing, as if time were free.

He threw off the blanket.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pulled on his boots, grabbed the pouch from the desk, and tied it to his belt. He didn’t turn on the light. He crept down the hall, past Zoey’s closed door, down the stairs, and through the dark kitchen.

The back door opened with a soft click.

The night air hit him like cold water. The yard was silent and empty, silvered by moonlight.

He pulled a gem from the pouch, cool and damp in his palm. For a moment he held it, feeling its quiet hum, the steady pulse of something patient and strong.

Then he dropped it.

It cracked against the dirt, and green light flared in the dark. The SwampGorilla rose from the glow, vast and calm.