"Dammit, why wouldn't this trash let go?" a boy growled. He was no older than 14, fat and short. His wet, torn clothes were barely surviving the strain of his size.
He doubled down, adding more effort as he kicked what he labeled as "trash."
The rain trickled down the dark alleyway, soaking the earth. Zora was on all fours, his lean frame desperately trying to protect something. He wasn't moving, nor was he blinking. The rain was washing away his blood as he remained focused on the black curled-up ball underneath him.
"Hey Dan, I think that's enough." One of the two other boys present cut in. "I don't see him moving." He said, his voice a little panicked.
"Who cares?" Daniel roared. "If he dies, that'd be one less filthy noble."
"He's not one anymore," the other of the two boys cut in, feeling a little guilty seeing all the blood the rain had washed away. "Besides, everyone saw him leave with us. We'll get in trouble if anything happens to him."
Tch.
Dan stops his kicking.
"Lucky brat," he spat on Zora.
The other two boys, Samuel and Osborn, followed him as they all left Zora battered in the rain.
When Zora was sure they were gone, he stood up, scooping his pet cat into his arms. All he could feel at this moment was pain. Although this had been a regular routine since he arrived at the orphanage, Zora couldn't really blame anyone for their action.
Zora had once been a proud member of the Tharros faction. His father and mother were exceptional summoners, heading one of the great Houses. Zora was supposed to be the next head, raised with all the love and care his parents could afford.
That was until it was discovered that he wasn't a summoner like they had hoped. He wasn't even a tamer like mere commoners, either.
So they did the only logical thing they could: dispose of the stain on the family's name.
Zora stopped. He had walked subconsciously to his usual spot, another of his daily routines.
Before he could knock, the door swung open; a man walked out, mid-forties, wearing an apron. His face was covered by a white mask.
He was the local veterinary doctor for Tamers.
The doctor exhaled. Taking the cat from Zora to examine, he asked...
"She looks pretty bad. What happened this time?"
Zora remained silent, not knowing what to say or how to say it. Ever since he got here, he has spoken less and less. When surrounded by hate, what could he really do? Who could he really talk to?
The doctor paid no attention; instead, he focused on treating the cat.
Out of everyone Zora had met since coming to the orphanage, the doctor had been the only soul who treated him relatively well. Not even the orphanage caretaker liked Zora; they did little to hide their contempt towards him.
"Alright, little lad." The doctor began, removing his gloves. "I did what I could. Sadly, she's not going to make it."
Zora felt his world spin. His heart pumped; he breathed heavily. His vision became a little foggy.
"No," he mutters.
"I'm sorry, kid. The damages were just too much for her to handle," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She has probably an hour left to live; make peace with her."
Tears lined his face.
She was just too stubborn. If only she had run when he told her to, if only she had tried to save herself, if only she had not tried to defend him, then she wouldn't have been in this situation.
He had known Kitty, as he had named her, for as long as memory served. How was he going to part now? Was it so easy? To break bonds?
No, Zora refused to allow her to die. She deserved more...much more. He would do anything to keep her alive.
But there was nothing he could do. He was powerless and weak.
Zora took his dying friend to a secluded place, hidden by shallow bushes. There, he dug a small grave. He held his friend tighter, a little stream of tears walking majestically down his face. He was going to miss her, but not for long.
"I'll miss you, old friend."
In truth, he had no will to live, no reason to.
[Congratulations!]
He paused, thinking he had finally gone insane.
[Conditions have been met. Intense emotions detected.]
No, he was still sane. His mind was racing with questions.
He knew what this met. After all, his parents were summoners and had taught him everything it meant to be a summoner in the hope that their son would become one someday.
[Max: My name is Max. Would the host like to bond with his ability system?
Zora hesitated, not sure if this was some kind of prank. It felt too good to be true.
Sensing this, Max spoke.
[Max: Bonding with ability comes with rewards. For example, you can tame your cat and save it from death.
"Tame my cat?"
[Max: Correct.]
"Wait, summoners don't tame; they summon creatures. "Is this some kind of a joke?" Zora asked, getting furious.
[Max: Negative. The reason for this is simple: you're half tamer and half summoner, and thus, your ability is an anomaly.]
The late awakening, the stigmatization he endured, the bullying, everything could have been avoided if he had just been... normal?
No, the world turned its back on him. His parents took everything that was rightfully his. And now, he has been given a chance to set things straight. To claim what he believes is rightfully his.
Zora took a deep breath.
"Bond with ability."
[Max: Bonding with ability...]
[Max: Bonding successful.]
[Max: Ability unlocked: Bond Thief.]
Zora couldn't help but smile.
This was it. A new beginning.
Only if he knew that power comes with responsibility. It gives, and it takes.