---
Fowad Benit and his Father Sadi Benit were returning home from a long day of training.
Fowad practices what his father told meanwhile his father collects food from the forest.
Twilight settled over the Sadi Benit house, casting long shadows that danced on the weathered mud walls.
The house is broken and it has only space to live for two people, it has no hall filled with laughter, music, and the soft murmur of important discussions like past times.
Now, they both live in silence in a small village far from the cities and near a very dangerous forest, by the creaks and sighs of old timbers and the whisper of wind through broken window panes. It's their life now.
Fowad sat at the small wooden table which his father made from a forest tree, legs swinging absently as he waited. The room has glowing moon lights coming from a hole in the roof.
In the past they had a big chandelier in their manor it was like, They pulsed with a faint, enchanted light that flickered whenever Sadi Benit walked beneath them.
It was as though even the magic within the manor recognized the man as its rightful master, though their family had long fallen from grace.
Sadi entered the room, his face lined with an expression Fowad had come to recognize well somber, contemplative, and edged with determination.
He carried a bundle of aged, something was wrapped in a dark cloth in Sadi Benit hand. The weight of its significance pressed on the air like an invisible pressure.
"Father, what's that?" Fowad's voice was quiet, but it held the curiosity of a scholar and the hesitation of a child uncertain of what he would uncover.
Sadi placed the bundle before his son, his fingers lingering on it as if drawing strength from the touch. He sighed, a sound thick with emotion.
"This, my son, is your birthright a fragment of the legacy our ancestors fought to preserve. It is the gift of the Benit line, though fractured and incomplete."
Fowad leaned forward, eyes wide, as Sadi carefully unwrapped the bundle to reveal a set of pages, their surfaces marked with strange, swirling symbols.
They glimmered faintly in the dim light as if holding a spark of the power they described.
"This," Sadi continued, tapping one of the pages, "is the 'Taming Circle technique', a technique passed through generations.
It grants those who master it the ability to tame and command any beasts of this world creatures that even the most powerful would think twice before approaching. But this... this is only part of the whole. But you need a lot of mental and willpower to tame beasts.
As long as you have willpower you can tame even the beast king. It's the only part left. It has a total of five levels 5. When you master the level 5 technique you can tame a beast king. There are more levels but The rest was lost, stolen by time and treachery."
Fowad's mind raced a blend of excitement and the calculated thought processes ingrained from his previous life.
He reached for the pages, tracing the intricate patterns with a fingertip. Each curve and line felt alive, vibrating faintly as if in recognition. "But if it's incomplete, how can I...?"
Sadi placed a hand on his shoulder, firm and reassuring. "I know you, Fowad.
You have a mind that sees beyond the obvious, one that bends logic and magic into something unique.
The incomplete nature of this technique makes it almost impossible for any normal practitioner to progress beyond its third stage. But you are not ordinary.
You have a spark of ingenuity that could breathe new life into this ancient art."
Fowad's heart thudded in his chest. The memories of Earth star surged in his calculations, data sets, algorithms, and problem-solving routines that had once been his bread and butter.
He looked at the pages with new eyes, not just as relics of the past but as a puzzle to solve.
"I can try," he whispered, more to himself than to his father.
Sadi's eyes softened, pride and a touch of sadness mingling in their dark depths. "It will be dangerous, son.
The path to mastery is fraught with trials. And to awaken a beast with only part of the Taming Circle technique... it could cost you everything."
But Fowad had made up his mind. For years, he had hidden behind the quiet veneer of a child, suppressing the memories of who he once was.
Now, an ember of his old resolve sparked to life, bright and unyielding. "I will succeed, Father. I must."
The following months were consumed by rigorous study and practice. Fowad dedicated himself to the scrolls, deciphering each line, each symbol, until they were burned into his mind.
The technique was complex, weaving threads of willpower, spirit, and subtle gestures that formed a bond between tamer and beast.
But it was incomplete. Many years have passed since we were practicing the Taming Circle technique.
By the time he manages to learn and form a Taming Circle in his heart, Fowad turns thirteen years old. It took him five years only to learn and form one Taming Circle in his heart.
The initial success had come at great cost sleepless nights, countless failures, and moments of despair where even his boundless will wavered.
He had practiced in secret, away from the prying eyes of the villagers who viewed the Benit family with a mix of pity and suspicion.
One evening, under the cover of twilight, Fowad stood in the forest border, breathing heavily. Before him, a small fox with fur the color of autumn leaves trembled, its eyes reflecting both fear and fascination.
Fowad extended his hand, the symbols of the Taming Whisper alive in his mind, murmuring the incantation that would forge the link. He felt the pull, the surge of power, and for a moment, the fox stilled, its spirit resonating with his own.
But then, just as the bond began to solidify, a searing pain lanced through Fowad's chest.
The backlash of the technique struck like lightning, breaking the connection and sending the young tamer sprawling to the ground.
The fox bolted, a streak of russet vanishing into the shadows.
Sadi emerged from the trees, his eyes filled with worry. He knelt beside his son, placing a steadying hand on his back.
"You pushed too far," he said, voice laced with both admonishment and pride. Your body isn't strong enough to take the backlash of the Taming Circle technique. "But you did it, Fowad.
You reached farther than any thirteen year old child of Benit family in generations."
Fowad looked up at his father, a thin smile cracking through the exhaustion. "Then I'll push farther still.
I'll reclaim what was lost, even if I have to piece it together one shard at a time." Little did they know the small fox was fleeing from a danger. That danger is coming.....
---