The world outside the walls of Ragnar's modest house buzzed with life. Birds flitted through the trees, insects scurried across the ground, and, at dusk, small creatures ventured out to explore. Ragnar saw them all as opportunities. Each creature, from the stray cats wandering the alleyways to the sparrows nesting nearby, became his silent teachers and practice partners as he honed his long-forgotten skills in secrecy.
Ragnar spent countless evenings in his backyard, hidden from view, observing the creatures with an intense focus. He would crouch low, studying their movements, their reactions, their subtle shifts in posture. He was no longer the 13th champion, yet he held remnants of that title's expertise, that deeply ingrained knowledge of taming. Carefully, he would test himself, approaching a timid squirrel or a wary cat, softening his presence, reaching out through instinct and intuition rather than physical gestures.
Through his quiet practice, Ragnar began to notice his abilities sharpening. He could sense the creatures' emotions—fear, curiosity, even contentment when they sensed his calm energy. It was exhilarating yet challenging to restrain his talents within the small confines of his yard. He longed to work with a creature as formidable as Aurora, to truly feel the rush of taming a beast of that caliber once again. But he knew he had to be patient. For now, his progress would remain hidden, even from his family.
One evening, as Ragnar was returning from another round of secret training in the backyard, he heard hushed voices drifting from the living room. His parents, who typically went about their daily routines without much fuss, were deep in conversation, their voices tinged with nostalgia and wonder.
Quietly, Ragnar paused by the door, listening.
"You remember the old family legend, don't you?" his father's voice was low but filled with reverence.
"Of course," his mother replied, a smile audible in her voice. "The story of our ancestor—the one who supposedly tamed the untamable beast. They say he had a bond so strong that the beast protected him through countless battles, even after he became too old to fight."
Ragnar's heart leapt. An ancestor with a beast-taming gift? His mind raced, trying to connect this revelation to his own life. Was it possible that fate had woven his past and present lives together, guiding him to this family that shared some connection with beasts?
"They say he could communicate with creatures like no one else," his father continued. "That he wasn't just taming them—he was truly understanding them, forming bonds beyond words."
"Sometimes I wonder," his mother mused softly, "if that talent could reappear someday, like it's waiting in the blood, a gift that skips generations."
Ragnar stepped back, careful to avoid drawing attention to himself. He felt his heart pounding with excitement. This wasn't just coincidence—this was a sign, a confirmation that he wasn't alone in his calling, even in this new life. His family's bloodline carried a legacy of taming, one that, perhaps, had led him here. It was as though the universe had subtly aligned to bring him back into this life, granting him the chance to reclaim his abilities and continue his journey.
The next day at school, Ragnar found himself approaching Lunar with a renewed sense of purpose. He'd shared more words with her than he had with anyone else since he was reborn, and their bond—while quiet—felt like something solid, built on mutual respect. She was no stranger to taming, and her dedication to her beast, Aurora, hinted at depths he hadn't yet explored.
When Lunar approached him during lunch, her expression was different—thoughtful, as though she'd made a decision she'd been contemplating for some time.
"Ragnar," she said, her voice even, but a hint of excitement flashed in her eyes. "There's something I want to show you. After school."
Curious, Ragnar agreed, and later, when the bell finally rang, he followed her to a secluded part of the campus, down a hidden path that led into a small clearing. The space was quiet, shielded by trees and shadowed by the late afternoon light. In the middle of the clearing was a simple training ground—a patch of worn earth marked with faint lines, a testament to countless hours of training.
Aurora was there, her silvery coat catching the dappled sunlight, her gaze calm and watchful. Lunar gave Ragnar a brief, assessing glance before speaking.
"This is where I practice," she began, her tone respectful yet firm. "I don't usually bring others here, but I see something in you, Ragnar. The way you handled Aurora… it's not something an ordinary person could do. There's something unique about your presence with beasts."
Ragnar felt a thrill run through him. "Thank you," he replied, meeting her gaze with sincerity. "Aurora is an incredible creature. I… I suppose I have a connection with beasts that I can't quite explain."
Lunar nodded, clearly pleased by his honesty. "I want to enter the regional taming tournaments," she continued. "It's something I've been working toward for years, but it's dangerous to go alone. These tournaments aren't just about skill—they test everything, pushing both the tamer and the beast to their limits. I was thinking…" She hesitated, glancing at Aurora before turning back to him. "Would you consider being my partner?"
Ragnar was momentarily stunned. A part of him wanted to leap at the opportunity, to reawaken the skills he'd kept hidden for so long. Yet he was careful, knowing he'd have to tread cautiously, keeping his true past concealed.
"I would be honored," he said after a moment, choosing his words with care. "But… I'm not as skilled as you might think."
Lunar smiled faintly, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Maybe, but something tells me there's more to you than you let on. Besides, it's not about being perfect—it's about having the right instincts. And I trust that you have them."
Her words resonated deeply within him. She saw something in him, something real. It was both a relief and a challenge. This partnership would require him to draw on his old skills while still concealing his past identity, a balance that was as exhilarating as it was daunting.
That evening, as Ragnar lay in bed, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind brimming with possibilities. He had discovered a connection with his new family's history, an echo of his former life as a champion. He had earned Lunar's respect, gaining a formidable ally in his quest to rebuild his skills. And now, with a goal to guide him, he felt something stir within—a determination that went beyond revenge.
Training with Lunar, competing alongside her in the tournament, would be his path back to his former self. It was a chance to prove his strength, to feel the rush of taming powerful beasts again. But it was also something more: it was an opportunity to forge a new legacy, one that balanced both his past and his present.
He could feel the thrill of purpose filling him, his heart beating with renewed vigor. He knew the journey wouldn't be easy. He would have to keep his true identity a secret, learning to walk a line between his old and new lives. But with Lunar by his side and his family's legacy behind him, Ragnar knew he was ready.
His journey was only just beginning, and with every step, he would reclaim his destiny—not as the 13th champion, but as something even more powerful, born from both worlds.