The book sat before Kael, its dark, jagged cover seeming to pulse faintly in the dim light of the shack. Kael ran his hand over it, the texture rough beneath his fingers, like scorched leather. Even now, hours after he had completed his first ritual, he could feel its pull, an intoxicating weight that pressed against his thoughts.
The Rift Vermin skittered at the edges of the room, its dull eyes fixed on Kael. He didn't need to speak to command it; the bond between them hummed quietly in the back of his mind. It obeyed without question, without hesitation.
This was real power, Kael thought. Not the borrowed strength of the tamers who forged fragile partnerships with their beasts, relying on trust and goodwill. What Kael had now was something absolute. The Vermin's will was gone, replaced entirely by his own.
But that power came with a cost.
Kael leaned back against the wall, staring at the book with narrowed eyes. The more he read its pages, the more he understood why it was forbidden. The text was filled with warnings and cryptic passages about corruption, madness, and the dangers of overreach. The rituals worked, but they were dangerous not only to the beast but to the tamer as well.
During the First Binding, Kael had felt something stir deep inside him, a dark presence that had whispered faintly in his mind. It hadn't spoken words, exactly, but it had made its intentions clear: power came at a price.
The sound of his breathing felt hollow in the silence of the shack. He glanced at the loose floorboard where he kept the book hidden. It was strange, but ever since he had brought the book home, the shack had felt smaller, darker. Shadows seemed to stretch farther into the corners, and the air was heavier, as though the book's presence had infected the space around it.
Kael didn't care. Whatever the cost, he was willing to pay it.
Over the next few days, Kael poured over the book whenever Eren wasn't around. He devoured every word, committing the diagrams and rituals to memory.
The book wasn't written like anything Kael had ever seen. It was almost as though it had been designed to challenge him, the runes shifting subtly whenever he looked away, forcing him to concentrate harder with every page. Some sections seemed incomplete, the text fading into obscurity as if daring him to piece it together.
And yet, the more he read, the more he understood.
The book didn't just describe how to dominate monsters it described the very essence of taming itself. It spoke of bonds as chains, connections that bound two beings together through mutual dependence. Traditional tamers forged these chains through trust and loyalty, but dark taming bypassed that entirely. It shattered the monster's will and reforged the bond in the tamer's image, creating something stronger, more unbreakable.
Kael's mind raced as he read.
This was more than a method. It was a weapon.
If he mastered this knowledge, no one would be able to stop him, not the tamers, not the nobles, not even the monsters themselves.
Eren returned late one evening, a sack of bread in his hands and a tired smile on his face.
"Busy day?" Kael asked, closing the book and sliding it beneath the floorboard as casually as if he'd been handling scraps of paper.
"Always," Eren said, dropping the sack onto the floor. He sat down, his brown hair sticking out in every direction, dirt smudged across his face. "There's been talk in the market. Another patrol came through. One of the tamers said they're planning to recruit from the slums again."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Recruit? Or draft?"
"Does it matter?" Eren shrugged. "If they're looking for potential tamers, this could be our chance."
Kael didn't reply. He turned away, staring out the small window of their shack at the faint glow of Seryn City's inner walls.
Eren's optimism was almost admirable, Kael thought. Even after years of poverty and suffering, Eren still clung to the idea that he could rise above it all through hard work and determination. He still believed in the system, in the idea that tamers were protectors and that the academy was a place of honor.
Kael knew better.
The tamers weren't heroes. They were oppressors, hoarding their power and enforcing their rule through fear. The academy didn't exist to create protectors it existed to train weapons for the nobles to wield.
"We don't need them," Kael said finally, his voice low.
Eren frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"The tamers. The academy. We don't need their approval, Eren. Do you think they'll let someone like us succeed? They'll chew you up and spit you out the moment you stop being useful."
Eren shook his head. "You don't know that."
"I do," Kael snapped, his voice sharper now. "I've watched them for years. They're not interested in helping anyone but themselves."
Eren stared at him, a flicker of unease in his eyes. "You're wrong. I know there are good tamers out there, people who want to protect the city. People like me."
Kael turned to face him fully, his gray eyes cold and unblinking. "Then you're a fool."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, Eren didn't have a reply.
That night, as Eren slept, Kael returned to the book.
He had already memorized the First Binding, but there were other rituals, more complex and dangerous ones, that promised even greater rewards. The diagrams grew more intricate as the book progressed, the runes spiraling into patterns that seemed to move when Kael wasn't looking.
He stopped at a passage near the middle of the book. The runes here were more vivid than the others, glowing faintly as though they were alive.
"To command the strongest, one must sacrifice the most."
Kael's eyes narrowed. The text hinted at a price, but it didn't specify what that price was. The vagueness irritated him.
The next page depicted a creature unlike anything Kael had ever seen, a massive, hulking beast with six glowing eyes and claws like scythes. The text referred to it as a Rift Tyrant, one of the most powerful monsters born from the Great Rift.
Kael felt a thrill of excitement.
He wasn't ready for something like that yet, not even close. But one day, he would be. One day, he would tame a creature so powerful that even the nobles would tremble at the sight of it.
For now, though, he had to be patient. The Rift Vermin was a small step, but it was a step forward.
Kael closed the book and hid it beneath the floorboards again. He lay back on his mat, staring at the ceiling as the weight of his plans settled over him.
The tamers ruled because they controlled the monsters. But Kael was learning to control something far more dangerous.
He would rise above them all.