Dawn — Bloomring Hold, Great Hall
Draven laid the severance scroll on the war table.
The parchment glowed faintly, ancient runes shifting like living things across its surface. Around the table stood the council: Brenn, Lysara, Joran, Thea, Dorn via relay, Ryl with reports from Terys outside, Sylvara standing silent and observant.
"The original binding marks had a removal clause," Draven said, his voice steady despite exhaustion from the forced march home. "The Dominion didn't invent chains—they perfected them by removing the one thing that made them bearable. Choice."
He traced a finger along the scroll. "This restores that choice. When activated against a slave mark, it dissolves the bond permanently. The beast goes free."
Joran leaned forward, studying the runes. His scarred hands moved across the parchment, not touching, just measuring. "How many can we make?"
"As many as we have time and material for," Draven replied. "But each one requires three components: Forged Bloom base, severance rune array, and resonance crystal core."
Thea pulled her notebook, calculating rapidly. "Seven days. Working round the clock... we could manage fifty units. Maybe."
"Fifty tools," Lysara said slowly. "How many beasts can each tool free?"
"Twenty to thirty," Draven answered. "Depending on how fast the deployment team can work. Fifty tools could free over a thousand beasts mid-battle."
The room went silent, the weight of that number settling.
Lysara's voice cut through. "Deployment teams will be exposed in melee combat. Close contact required. They'll be priority targets the moment the Dominion realizes what's happening."
Brenn met her eyes. "Beast Speakers will volunteer. They want to free their kin."
"Volunteer to die, you mean."
"Volunteer to matter."
The vote was unanimous. Proceed with production.
The following day, Forge District
Twelve forge teams worked in shifts that blurred into one continuous roar of hammer and flame.
Joran organized the workflow: his smiths forged the Forged Bloom bases—staffs as long as a forearm, steel that remembered its purpose. Draven inscribed the severance runes personally, each array taking two hours of precise, exhausting work. Thea and her engineers installed the resonance crystals, calibrating each one to the exact frequency needed.
At evening. The first prototype was complete.
They tested it on a volunteer—a Servitor who still bore the faded marks of old chains, freed months ago but scarred forever.
Draven pressed the tool against the mark on the Servitor's shoulder. Held it steady. Three seconds.
Golden light pulsed.
The mark dissolved—not burned away, but released. Like ink washing off skin in clean water.
The Servitor staggered, eyes wide. Freedom shock. The weight that had pressed on its soul for years suddenly... gone.
Then it bellowed. Not pain. Joy.
Pure, unfiltered joy.
Joran wiped his eyes. "It works. Gods, it actually works."
Production began in earnest.
By the next day, the assembly line was established. Joran's teams forged bases at seven per day. Draven inscribed runes in eight-hour sessions, hands cramping, vision blurring. Thea's engineers worked through the night installing crystals.
Rate: seven tools per day.
They needed 7.2 per day to hit fifty.
"We'll make it," Joran said, though his voice carried more determination than certainty.
Training Grounds
Fifty Beast Speakers stood in formation on the training field.
The youngest was Senna, sixteen, bonded to a scarred hound who'd lost an ear to Dominion cruelty. The oldest was Torvald, fifty-three, a veteran handler whose Noble elk had carried him through three wars.
Brenn walked the line, Mira beside him with journal open.
"You understand what you're volunteering for," Brenn said. Not a question. A statement.
Senna's voice rang clear. "We free our kin. That's what Beast Speakers do."
"You'll be in the thick of melee," Brenn continued. "Dominion soldiers will see you as priority targets. Your bonded beasts will fight to protect you. Some of you won't come home."
Torvald stepped forward. "Marshal, I've lived fifty-three years under the Dominion's shadow. Watched beasts I loved die in chains. If I die freeing them, that's a good death."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the formation.
Brenn looked at Mira. She nodded once—their choice, freely made.
The training began.
Close Combat Survival:
Ryl led drills with Terys as the mobile fortress. "You're not warriors. You're specialists. Get in, activate tool, get out. Your beast covers your approach. Terys covers your exit."
Terys demonstrated, deploying Molten Sanctuary—a thirty-meter zone of searing heat. "Enemies cannot cross. You work inside safety. Then we move."
Tool Deployment Practice:
Joran brought volunteers wearing replica marks. The deployment sequence was simple: approach from behind, press tool against the mark (back, shoulder, chest—anywhere visible), hold three seconds, resonance pulse triggers, mark dissolves.
Success rate in practice: 85%.
Fifteen percent fumbled under pressure, needed second attempts.
Bonded Beast Coordination:
Sylvara taught the deepest lesson. "Your beast feels your intent through the bond. Trust them to protect you. Do not command—request. They fight beside you, not for you."
One trainee—Kael, bonded to a Stonehide—struggled. His beast wouldn't stay close, kept drifting away during drills.
Sylvara observed, then said quietly, "You still think of him as a tool. Until you see him as family, the bond stays weak."
Kael knelt before his Stonehide, pressed his forehead to its snout. "I'm sorry. Will you help me save others like you?"
The Stonehide rumbled, pressed back.
The bond flared gold.
From that moment, they moved as one.
Final Assessment:
Full combat simulation. Fifty Beast Speakers versus a mock Dominion formation played by Covenant veterans. Chaos, noise, blunted arrows, melee press.
Results:
42 successful deployments (84%)
8 failures (panicked under pressure, needed extraction)
0 casualties (training safety held)
Brenn's verdict: "You're ready. Not perfect. But ready."
The next day — Anomaly Network Activated
Draven stood before regional commanders, the anomaly zone map spread across the table.
"We have forty-three documented zones. Three are within fifty kilometers of Bloomring Hold and rated safe for human occupation."
He pointed to each location.
"Ashen Hollow. We reinforce the garrison, seal the vault, convert the upper mines into a field hospital. Feyra's resonance channeled through the Heart Stone will amplify healing—wounded recover twice as fast."
"Crystal Caverns, northern mountains. Sylvara establishes an Eternal Grove outpost. Time dilation—three to one. We can run intensive Beast Speaker training cycles there. Twelve hours real time equals thirty-six hours of practice."
"Verdant Groves. Sylvara's origin point. We designate this as civilian sanctuary. Five thousand refugees relocated there—elderly, children, non-combatants. If Bloomring falls, they survive."
The commanders looked at each other, understanding dawning.
Knowledge wasn't just information. It was infrastructure.
By nightfall, all three zones were activated. Convoys moved through the darkness, carrying the vulnerable to safety, the wounded to accelerated healing, the untested to compressed training.
The anomaly network—once mysterious and dangerous—was now the backbone of their survival.
The next day — Eastern Reconnaissance
Ryl rode on Terys's broad shell, moving through the eastern wastes with twelve scouts spread in careful formation.
At dawn, they found them.
Eighty thousand soldiers stretched across a ten-kilometer front. Three divisions moving in perfect coordination: North (25,000 infantry with enslaved beasts), Center (30,000 heavy infantry with siege engines), South (25,000 cavalry with aerial support).
Ryl observed from a ridge, Terys providing cover through heat distortion that bent light around them.
She noted everything: Chanter formations every two hundred meters maintaining control resonance. Proto-harmonics integrated into the vanguard—over eight hundred units moving in perfect synchronization. No sign of high-tier beasts yet. Kings kept in reserve?
Then she saw the banners.
Silver, with a crown symbol. Crown Mirror Project.
"Vael Ruun," she whispered.
They withdrew carefully, carrying intelligence back to Bloomring.
Brenn plotted the trajectory on the map. "They'll arrive noon, after 2 days. Exactly when we predicted."
Forty-eight hours remaining.
Notes:
Severance Tools: 50 units in production; 7 per day rate; permanent chain-breaking capability.
Beast Speaker Training: 50 volunteers; 84% success rate; high-risk close combat deployment.
Anomaly Network: 3 safe zones activated (Ashen Hollow hospital, Crystal Caverns training, Verdant Groves sanctuary).
Dominion Intelligence: 80,000 troops confirmed; 3 divisions; Crown Mirror Project deployed.
💖 Enjoying the story?
👉 Support me on Patreon: patreon.com/sa2quasar