The scroll pulsed faintly in Aryan's satchel as they rode back to Camp Vedra.
No one spoke much.
Not even Kael.
Everyone had felt it—that thing in the ruin. The way it moved, the way it looked at them like they were insects beneath its gaze. But what disturbed Aryan more than its power… was the sense that it recognized him.
He hadn't told anyone. Not yet.
He wasn't even sure if it was real.
But that night, as he lay in his tent with the scroll close by and his Vanara curled protectively at the entrance—
He dreamed.
The Dream
Fire danced in rings across a black sky. Towers burned. Beasts howled in agony. Warriors—some human, some fused with their bonded monsters—fought atop a city made of bone.
And there, standing on a high platform of gold, was a boy.
Not Aryan. But someone who looked like him.
Same eyes. Same scar.
His hands glowed with symbols. His voice echoed across the burning city.
"Let the chains break! Let the beasts rise! We are not tools! We are kings!"
At his side, a Vanara—older, larger, eyes of white flame—leapt through enemies like smoke through air.
A giant eagle struck from above. A silver wolf roared at the gates. And beneath it all, a familiar spiral symbol burned across the sky.
"They called us Unbinders," the boy whispered. "But we were never the ones who broke the world."
Aryan woke, drenched in sweat.
And the scroll?
It glowed.
Camp Vedra – Morning
Devran examined the scroll over breakfast, chewing bread between frantic notes.
"This thing isn't just a contract. It's a memory vault," he said. "Like the beast scrolls of the old temples—but older. Possibly pre-Empire."
Vaidehi leaned closer. "You think it showed Aryan something?"
"It showed him something because he's linked to it," Devran said. "And that's what's strange. It shouldn't react unless you're part of the same bloodline."
Aryan's chest tightened.
"My family was nothing special," he said. "No nobles. No beastbinder heroes."
Kiva approached, silent until now.
"You don't need a name," he said coolly. "Just the right kind of soul."
Aryan met his gaze. "And you think mine is what?"
Kiva smirked. "Dangerous."
Later That Day
Sergeant Bhairav called them into the war tent.
"There was a break-in last night," he said. "Someone got into the scroll vault. Nothing stolen, but runes were tampered with. This wasn't a rookie."
"Unbinder spy?" Vaidehi asked.
"Possibly," Bhairav replied. "We're sealing camp exits for now. Nobody in or out without clearance."
Kiva raised a brow. "Except for us, I assume?"
Bhairav nodded. "Your squad is heading to the Red Cliffs, next route on the border. A scout team vanished last week near an ancient beast temple. We believe something's building—possibly another brand site."
As the squad dispersed to prepare, Aryan lingered.
"Sir," he asked quietly, "do you think someone in the Empire wants these scrolls unlocked?"
Bhairav looked at him, tired.
"I think someone inside the Empire is already ten steps ahead of us."
That Night – Outer Camp
Aryan sat by the fence line, stroking his Vanara's fur.
Vaidehi joined him, two cups of warm tea in hand. She handed him one.
"You're thinking again."
"I dreamed of a war," Aryan said. "But it wasn't a dream. It felt like a memory. From the scroll."
She watched him quietly.
"Was I there?" she asked.
Aryan blinked. "What?"
"In the vision. Was I there?"
He hesitated. "There was a girl with a wind-bound crane. She had your eyes."
She looked away, sipping her tea. "Funny how the past keeps finding us, even in our sleep."
He smiled faintly. "Or maybe we're just walking toward it without knowing."
Their hands brushed.
Just a moment.
Then—
A shadow flickered in the corner of the camp.
The Vanara stood, alert. Its eyes locked on the trees.
Aryan stood slowly, drawing his blade. "We're not alone."