Eragon Arctis squinted into the crimson haze of dusk, his breath steady despite the growing chill. The forests surrounding Shard City Nerys were a living, breathing labyrinth—a place where the unprepared were hunted, and the careless didn't last long. Even the trees here seemed alive in more ways than one, their twisted roots pulsing faintly with the hum of Etherion.

He crouched low, his knife unsheathed and poised in his hand. The air felt heavy, saturated with danger and potential. For someone like Eragon, this place was both sanctuary and prison. As an orphan born to the Outskirts, he'd grown up learning to survive on wits, speed, and a deep respect for the beasts that roamed the Wildscourge.

But tonight, survival felt tenuous.

The beast's growl came again, low and guttural, vibrating the ground beneath him. Eragon tightened his grip on his knife, though the gesture felt futile. The creature stalking him wasn't just any Etherion beast—it was something far more deadly.

The hunt had begun at sunset. Eragon had been foraging for rare Etherion-infused herbs near the edge of the forest, hoping to trade them for a hot meal back in Nerys. That's when he'd first heard it: the distinct snap of branches too large for any ordinary creature to break. Then the sound of breath—rasping, deliberate, and far too close.

His instincts screamed for him to run, but he'd stayed just long enough to catch a glimpse of it. The beast was massive, its lithe body shimmering with azure scales that reflected the fading sunlight. Six glowing eyes had locked onto him, and for a moment, Eragon felt as though his soul had been laid bare.

Now, as the sky deepened into night, he found himself cornered, the beast closing in.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, eyes darting for an escape route. His knife was laughable against a creature of this magnitude. Even the seasoned Beastbinders of Nerys would think twice before engaging a beast of this caliber without preparation.

The Etherion beast stepped into the clearing, its sleek, serpentine form gliding effortlessly over the undergrowth. Eragon's heart thundered in his chest as the beast lowered its head, nostrils flaring. It was studying him, as if trying to decide whether he was prey worth the effort.

He knew the answer.

The beast lunged.

Eragon threw himself to the side, rolling across the forest floor as a set of razor-sharp claws slashed the space where he'd just been. He scrambled to his feet, adrenaline surging through him.

But the beast was faster.

It twisted mid-strike, its tail sweeping toward him like a battering ram. The blow caught him square in the chest, sending him flying into the trunk of a massive Etherion-infused tree. Pain exploded through his ribs, and his vision blurred.

"Not... like this," he gasped, struggling to pull himself upright. His limbs felt heavy, his breaths shallow.

The beast prowled closer, its glowing eyes fixed on him. This time, there would be no escape.

Then it happened.

A surge of heat erupted from his chest, so intense that Eragon cried out in pain. He clawed at his shirt, only to find his skin glowing with an otherworldly light. The heat spread through his body, igniting every nerve with raw, untamed energy.

The beast halted, its eyes widening in what Eragon could only describe as shock.

Symbols began to spiral across his skin—intricate, pulsing patterns that seemed alive. A voice, neither male nor female, resonated in his mind:

"Etherion Contract Protocol initializing... Protocol Activated.

Designation: Eragon Arctis. Initiating Bond Sequence."

Eragon couldn't comprehend what was happening, but the world around him shifted. A connection formed between him and the beast—a tether of energy that hummed with life.

Suddenly, he wasn't just seeing the beast. He was experiencing it. Memories flooded his mind—soaring through the skies, prowling ancient forests, battling other creatures for dominance. The beast's name burned itself into his thoughts: Lunara.

The bond snapped into place like a chain locking shut. The beast roared, but this time, it wasn't a sound of aggression. It was recognition.

Eragon blinked, the light fading from his chest. The pain subsided, replaced by a strange clarity. The beast—Lunara—was no longer advancing. Instead, it shimmered, its form shifting before his eyes.

He watched in stunned silence as the massive creature began to shrink, its azure scales dissolving into a soft, ethereal glow. Within moments, the towering beast was gone, replaced by a figure that stole the breath from his lungs.

A girl stood before him, her sapphire hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of light. Her golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, and her expression was a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"You," she said, her voice melodic but tinged with confusion. "You're the one who awakened the Protocol?"

Eragon staggered to his feet, his mind reeling. "What... what just happened?"

Lunara tilted her head, her gaze sharp. "You don't know, do you?" She took a step closer, and he instinctively raised his knife.

"Stay back!" he snapped, though his voice lacked conviction.

She raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at her lips. "If I wanted you dead, human, you wouldn't be standing."

Eragon lowered the blade, though his grip remained firm. "What are you?"

"I am Lunara, a beast of Etherion." She gestured to the mark still glowing faintly on his chest. "And now, thanks to that, I am bound to you."

Bound. The word sent a chill through him. Eragon had heard tales of Beastbinding before—contracts forged between humans and Etherion beasts. But those required years of training, precise rituals, and immense skill. What had just happened defied every rule he knew.

Lunara studied him for a moment, then sighed. "You really have no idea what you've done, do you?"

"No," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She crossed her arms, her golden eyes narrowing. "Then let me make this simple. You've awakened something ancient, something powerful. That mark on your chest isn't just a bond—it's a key. And if you don't figure out how to use it, you'll die long before you understand its purpose."

Eragon swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. He glanced at the mark on his chest, its intricate patterns glowing faintly in the dark. Whatever had just happened, it was only the beginning.

And for the first time in his life, Eragon Arctis felt both exhilarated and utterly terrified.