On a warm afternoon, while the Red Beast was ensconced on his usual vantage point, an irate female voice erupted from behind him. “Why do you persist in spying on me?” The words lacerated the Red Beast, and he recoiled in fear, seeing the Blue Beast eyeing him with a dagger-like glare. “And why are you alone without your master?” she added, her tone equally sharp.

The Red Beast, his voice shaky, quickly apologized. “I’m sorry for spying. I didn’t mean any harm,” he said. Then his expression turned from distress to puzzled. “But why do you ask about my master? Do I have one?”

“Yes,” the Blue Beast replied firmly, though curiosity crossed her eyes. “What happened to you?” Her tone softened just slightly, showing a touch of concern.

The Red Beast, with a meek voice, began to explain that he’d been wandering for over a year, lost with missing memories. He spoke of his time in town and the academy, and how he was still struggling to piece everything together about who he was and how the world worked.

“So, you have amnesia?” the Blue Beast squinted at him with doubt, but there was a surprise in the mix, too. She lowered her head and muttered, “That means he managed to—” She didn’t finish what she wanted to say and rubbed her chin with her fingers as if she was thinking.

The Red Beast noticed this and inquired, “You wanna say something?”

The Blue Beast’s eyes widened. “Oh, it’s nothing! Well, go on then, continue with your story.”

The Red Beast nodded and admitted with a solemn tone that he didn’t even remember his name. With inquisitiveness, he then asked, “What about you? Do you have a name?”

The Blue Beast hesitated, looking off into the distance before answering, “I’m Breezy. I’m an elemental wind beast.”

Hope seemed to awaken within the Red Beast, lighting up his features. “So I’m an elemental beast, too? What kind am I?”

Breezy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know your own power?”

The Red Beast let out an exasperated sigh. “I have amnesia, remember?”

There was a long pause as Breezy considered him carefully. Finally, she spoke again, her voice cautious. “I think you’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”

The Red Beast’s frustration flared. His claws dug into the rough bark of the tree branch beneath him. “If you know what I’m capable of, why not just tell me?” His voice was thick with edginess.

Breezy’s eyes narrowed in response. “Hey, furball!” she snapped, her voice carrying an air of superiority. “Never use that tone on me again!”

“Eek!” The Red Beast pulled back, ears flattened against his head, tail curling between his legs. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice small.

Breezy’s expression softened, her tone gentler now. “Respect is important,” she said. “As for your powers, they’ll probably come back when your memories do, in time.”

A look of despondency crossed the Red Beast’s face, as though a door had just been shut in his face.

Breezy leaned in, her voice taking on a more serious note. “Listen up, furball,” she said, and the Red Beast perked up, eager to hear what she had to say. “If you meet any other elemental beasts, steer clear. They’ll kill you without a second thought.”

The Red Beast’s confusion only deepened. “Why would they do that?”

Breezy snickered. “Which elemental beast wouldn’t, seeing you in your current state?”

The Red Beast gulped. “So, you might hurt me too?”

“Well, you’re lucky to have met me first,” Breezy said. “And as for humans, you should stay hidden. You’ve seen how they treat small, defenseless, mythical beasts, right?”

The Red Beast understood exactly what she meant. Humans weren’t kind to things they didn’t comprehend.

“And stop coming here to check on me,” Breezy added, her tone sharpening again. “If you keep doing it, I might have to hurt you. It could expose you to even more danger.”

The Red Beast’s ears flattened again, struck by the seriousness of her tone. He shrank back, aware of the risks.

“And if you’re unlucky,” Breezy continued, “my human master might find out you’re here, and he could turn you into a fluffy pillow. In fact, he’s stronger than me.”

The Red Beast shuddered at the thought. “Your master?”

Breezy pointed up toward the top floor of the building, where she often passed through its large windows. “He lives there.”

They fell into a brief silence before the Red Beast hesitantly asked, “Why don’t I have a master? How can I find one? Or did I already have one before I lost my memories?”

Breezy exhaled deeply, her voice softer now. “Listen, furball. There are two things you need to know about our ‘Oath’ in relation to humans. If you don’t have a master now, you’ll find one eventually.”

The Red Beast’s brow furrowed. “How will I know? There are so many humans here. Do I have to go on a quest or something?”

Breezy’s eyes sparkled. “One day, when you meet your master, your heart will know. You’ll feel a burning desire to help them, to share your power with them, to protect them, even with your life. That’s the bond. When you share your ‘Oath’ with them, you’ll be inseparable.”

The Red Beast looked uncertain, the thought of such a powerful connection both inspiring and frightening. “But how can I tell if I had a master before my amnesia?”

Breezy scratched her head a few times, pondering. “Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you?” she finally replied.

The Red Beast blinked. “I don’t get it. What do you mean?”

Breezy’s voice became practical. “If you had a master before and they died, you would’ve died too. But if you died first, your master would still be alive.”

The Red Beast’s face went blank as the concept became clear to him. “So, that’s how it works,” he muttered. “That’s… strange.”

Breezy’s eyes softened. “It’s all tied to the Oath. You’ll get it when you find them.”

The Red Beast, torn between hesitation and the desire to know, let out an upset sigh. “I think I’d rather not know.”

Breezy giggled. “Fate doesn’t care what you want, furball,” she teased. “Remember that burning desire I mentioned? It’ll pull you toward your master like honey draws bees.” With a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, Breezy gave a flick of her tail before adding, “Now, fly, furball.”

“What do you mean by—” The Red Beast couldn’t finish his words, as Breezy lunged at him, sending him flying out of the academy grounds with a startled yelp.

The encounter with Breezy kept resurfacing in the Red Beast’s mind long after it ended. Her words were a continual presence, subtly shaping his journey. He’d learned caution, slipping into the academy at night to avoid detection. It had become a habit, one that led him to forgotten corners of the academy, where relics and long-forgotten stories waited, undisturbed. He traced their surfaces with his paws, each piece of history a potential link to his lost past. But even as he reveled in the discovery, Breezy’s warning about encountering another elemental beast hung over him, one who might not be as merciful or kind.

Now, back in the present time, the Red Beast was collecting flowers for a snack, retreating into the quiet of the forest. But while indulging in his habit, a noise broke the peace. He scowled, assuming it was just the humans at it again. Their strange customs, like hugging, rolling over the grass, and, more frequently than not, lying half-naked, emitting irritating moaning and grunting sounds.

“Noisy humans,” he mumbled under his breath.

But the sound persisted, growing louder and more insistent. He could no longer ignore it. The Red Beast shot toward the source of the disturbance, landing on a tree branch, positioning himself to peek without being seen.

Below him, in the clearing, a teenage girl with flowing auburn hair was practicing swordplay. Her movements were smooth, too precise, too familiar. Something stirred inside the Red Beast. Where had he seen such a beautiful dance before? Why did it feel like he should know her?

As if in answer, the sky, momentarily cleared by the shifting clouds, allowed a ray of the sun to shine down on the girl. For a moment, her hair seemed to glow, deepening into the same fiery shade as the Red Beast’s fur.

The Red Beast’s jaw dropped, and he pressed a paw to his chest, expecting to feel some warmth. But his heartbeat was steady. His fascination with her wasn’t the kind that came with a longing for a master. No, it was pure curiosity. He remained on the branch, watching in silence until she stopped, panting as she caught her breath.

The girl sat on a nearby boulder, taking a long drink from her canteen. When she finished, she stood, stretching, and extended her arm. The Red Beast’s eyes widened as he watched the air shimmer around her. A scarlet magic circle appeared, floating and glowing with a bright crimson light that seemed to pulse in time with her movements.

He watched, transfixed, until the circle faded, and the girl lowered her arm, a frown creasing her brows as she examined her hand.

What’s wrong with her? The Red Beast wondered. Was she struggling to control her magic powers? Had she made a mistake?

Before he could consider it further, the girl raised her left hand this time and conjured another circle, this one even brighter than the last. She repeated the process, conjuring twin circles with perfect symmetry with both hands. The Red Beast’s fascination grew as she wove her magic, creating a dance of light and energy. The spellwork was hypnotic, so fluid and precise that it felt almost like a performance.

But as quickly as it had started, the magic faded. The girl stood still for a moment, eyes closed, as if listening for something. Then, her hands rose again, and this time, two massive arcane barriers of iridescent energy overlapped each other, covering her whole. A shout escaped her lips, carrying through the forest.

“Well, it’s confirmed now. She has truly lost her mind,” the Red Beast muttered to himself, nodding in agreement with his assessment. He had been observing, sure that the girl was simply losing herself in the magic. But then, something unforeseen happened.

The girl’s joy abruptly ceased. Her eyes sharpened, and without warning, she drew her sword. The Red Beast’s heart skipped a beat. The tip of the girl’s blade pointed directly at his hiding spot. Had she seen him? Could she have pierced the veil of his invisibility?

The girl had appeared to have sensed something. She knew he was there.

“Come out,” the girl barked. “I know you’re hiding there! Reveal yourself, or face my blade!”

The Red Beast froze. He could no longer hide.