Beastbound: The Flesh of Power

A few days had passed since I had woken up in the infirmary, and though the pain in my shoulder had faded with my mother's expert care, the dull ache in my chest remained. Each step I took felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of my failure was pressing down on me. My parents had visited, and my mother had healed me enough that I could leave the infirmary the next day. But as I emerged from the small cottage-like room and into the cool evening air, something unexpected caught my eye.

The village was alive.

Bright lights adorned every building, wrapping around the wooden beams and archways like a thousand stars fallen from the sky. The lights flickered in every color imaginable—reds, blues, greens—each one pulsing softly with a magical rhythm. They were not ordinary lanterns or decorations. These lights were powered by mana, created and enchanted by the village's toolsmith, a master craftsman whose work was known far and wide.

It was the first time I had seen the village so vibrant, so full of life. The air was thick with excitement, and the sounds of laughter and chatter drifted from every corner. Children ran through the streets, their faces illuminated by the shimmering glow, while adults bustled around, preparing food and setting up stalls. It was as if the entire village had transformed overnight into something more... joyful.

I paused, taking it all in. The contrast was almost surreal. Just days ago, I had been in the heat of battle, terrified and uncertain, unsure of my place in all of this. But now, I stood on the edge of something else entirely—a world of light, warmth, and celebration.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, pushing aside the nagging thoughts that had been plaguing me. Maybe this festival, whatever it was, could help me forget—if only for a little while.

I spotted Leo and Anya ahead, their faces lit with genuine smiles, their eyes shining with excitement. The two of them were heading toward the center of the village where the largest decorations were being set up, a giant display of floating lanterns above the square. Their chatter was a welcome distraction, and I felt a faint flicker of curiosity tug at me.

Leo spotted me standing off to the side and waved me over. "Raze! You're up and about! Glad to see you're feeling better."

I gave him a half-hearted smile, still trying to shake off the lingering cloud of disappointment. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... not quite used to being back on my feet yet."

Anya smiled at me as well, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "You should come with us! The festival preparations are in full swing, and we could use another set of hands."

I nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Sure, I'll come along." Maybe exploring the festivities would take my mind off everything.

As we walked through the village, I couldn't help but ask the nearest person what the festival was about. An older woman, her hair graying but her eyes bright, was tending to a stall filled with freshly baked bread. When I approached, she smiled warmly, but there was a spark of reverence in her eyes as she answered.

"It's a celebration, young man," she said with a nod toward the large stage being constructed near the village square. "A festival to honor the prophecy. The village seer predicted that the Ancestor's Egg would awaken during this year's festival. It's a sign of good fortune for the village, a symbol of our ancestors watching over us."

I blinked, confusion clouding my thoughts. The Ancestor's Egg? I'd heard of it before, but never with such reverence. My father had shown it to me once—an old, cracked egg that had been kept in a protective display case in the village hall for as long as I could remember. It had always seemed like little more than a relic from a time long past, an object more curious than sacred.

I knew the egg was sturdy, impossibly so, but there was something about it that always felt... off. It hadn't shown any signs of life for as long as I could remember. My father, who had always seemed so certain of its importance, had told me stories of the ancient egg being the symbol of our ancestors, the promise of their return. But as I'd gotten older, I couldn't shake the thought that the egg was nothing more than a dead, forgotten thing—a relic without meaning.

Yet here was the entire village, gathered around it, preparing for something monumental. And the seer had predicted its awakening?

I couldn't help but feel a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. Could it really be true? Was there more to the egg than I had been told?

Leo and Anya continued walking, oblivious to my thoughts, their voices full of excitement. "Come on, Raze!" Anya called over her shoulder. "The best part of the festival is yet to come!"

I smiled faintly and fell in step with them, but my mind was elsewhere. The lights, the music, the laughter—it was all so festive and cheerful, a stark contrast to the turmoil I still felt inside. The village was buzzing with the promise of something greater, something that could change everything.