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World of Tamers: Chapter 3

Hi all, 

Here’s a bonus chapter. My muse is on fire right now. There will still be four chapters this week.  I have made some minor edits to the previous chapters.

Chapter 3 - Leviathan

The sea spray misted Myles's face as he stretched out on the sun-warmed sand, propping himself up on his elbows. The leather-bound book before him crackled as he turned another page, his fingers tracing the faded text about tamers. 

The first monster came as a gift of the Tamer Mark—it didn’t cost a drop of magic to maintain. But each subsequent monster demanded a slice of their tamer's magic. A permanent drain, scaling with the monster's rank and level, until death severed the bond.

There were no restrictions on the number of monsters that could be tamed. A tamer could command an army of monsters but at what cost? The magic spent on maintaining their bond would mean less magic for skills. The strategy held merit for those cursed with weak innate skills, trading personal power for borrowed strength.

The chances of extracting skills from monster cores were slim. A tamer may try a thousand cores with no success. It served as a reminder of his good fortune. Resonance increased his chances of extracting skills from monster cores. It might not do much at its current level but once he improved it, he would reap endless benefits.

A splash jerked his attention seaward. Zael burst through the surface. The serpent slithered onto the beach, depositing a pile of monster cores beside Myles. 

“Thanks, Zael,” Myles said, picking the cores up.

Zael dove back into the water with a flourish.  

He had been cultivating steadily for a week now. Every day, Zael brought him three monster cores, and despite suffering wounds from hunting, he always delivered.

Myles searched the cove between his cultivation sessions. His mother had hinted at hidden caches. Finding them would feel like a small victory over her after her endless secrets. He checked everywhere but came up empty-handed. Either his mother was leading him on, or she was far more cunning than he had imagined. The thought that he might just be missing the obvious crossed his mind more than once.

The fruitless search did spark an interesting idea, though. While investigating a particularly suspicious crack in the cliff face, Myles tested another aspect of Zael's phasing skill. He directed the serpent to phase into the solid rock.

Ten seconds later, Zael emerged unscathed. Myles learnt that phasing through rock barely taxed Zael's mana reserves compared to crossing the barrier. It was important information, and he could already think of a use for the skill. He could explore the rest of the island and access remote areas while remaining undetected. If he wanted to uncover his mother’s secrets, he needed to leave the cove.

The second day brought some progress. As Myles finished his cultivation session, he felt something shift within him. Checking his status revealed he'd advanced to level two and with it came some new benefits. 

[Choose one of the following perks for reaching level two:

Myles delved deeper into this new development with keen interest. Each level presented a list of perks, but he could choose only one. Unselected options would resurface at the next level, alongside new possibilities. The system allowed him to postpone his decision until the next level, granting him two choices instead of one. This pattern could continue indefinitely, though it seemed an inefficient approach.

He scanned the options. He wasn’t given any additional information about them, so he had to make his best judgment based on what he knew. The first option was good, but not his first choice. The second option was the same. 

Out of the four choices, the external martial arts stood out. Some tamers excelled in physical combat, their skills complementing their robust physiques and martial prowess. The ability to defend himself without Zael's assistance appealed to him, but he questioned its usefulness against sea monsters. But it would be great to deal with some annoying villagers. 

Acquiring the attribute was also appealing. He didn’t know how and when he would be able to increase them.  

After careful consideration, he opted to wait until the next level. He was in no rush and wanted to gain more experience with the complexities of his innate skill before making a decision.

On the third day, he fully unlocked the pathways in his right arm. The flow of mana surged through his entire right arm. His limb felt lighter, as if it had been freed of an invisible weight he had never noticed. He gained one point in Magic. It proved his point in holding off choosing a perk. If he continued to gain attributes through cultivation, he didn’t need to waste his choices on acquiring attributes. 

Day five brought his fifth pathway, but it didn’t make him happy. It had taken twice the amount of time and cores to unlock it. 

Today, he unlocked his sixth pathway and levelled up again. A new perk appeared in his list of options.

[Herbal Knowledge 1]

The perk seemed redundant. His mother's teachings had already given him knowledge of various herbs, though their confinement to the cove meant that knowledge was limited. The perk appeared to be a foundation for alchemy—valuable but of little use to him right now.

Once again, he couldn’t decide on a perk, which is why he was reading—to give himself time to consider his options.

Zael surfaced, spraying water across Myles. He wiped water from his face, recognising his companion's familiar signal of impatience.

“Yes, I know. You want to take me beyond the barrier.”

His companion had reached level four. The serpent's swift progress raised questions—was it natural talent, or remnants of his cultivation experience from before it was reset? Most monsters outperformed their tamers in cultivation because they processed monster cores more efficiently.  

Zael's magic reserves could now carry them beyond the barrier, though the return journey remained barely out of reach. A few hours' rest would restore enough magic for the trip back—provided they avoided other monsters.

Myles snapped the book shut and straightened. He accessed his status and, despite his earlier reservations, spent a perk to increase his Command.

Increasing his Command to five sparked something new—a faint link pulsed between Myles and Zael. Not words, but impressions. Like catching glimpses of thoughts through murky water.

They spent hours testing their link's limits. It faded beyond fifty metres of separation. Emotions came through strongest—fear, hunger, anger. Complex ideas dissolved into fragments. When Zael tried to warn him about a sharp rock on the seabed, Myles only caught impressions of 'pain' and 'below’. Directions proved simpler: up, down, follow, stay. Numbers remained beyond their grasp.

Distance weakened everything. At twenty metres, their link stayed sharp. At thirty, the impressions dulled. After forty, they only caught the most intense emotions, like ripples in a disturbed pond. 

Yet even these limitations proved useful. Zael could warn him of dangers lurking beneath the waves. Myles could signal when he was in distress or issuing a command. 

He kept his remaining choice for later. Tomorrow, they'd venture beyond the barrier. He felt slightly better knowing they could communicate if something went wrong. The perk point had been worth it.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The sun crept over the horizon, painting Fisher's Cove in weak grey light. Myles stood at the water's edge, checking his supplies one last time—rope coiled around his waist, knife strapped to his thigh, spear in his hands. A small cloth bag was slung over his shoulder, holding several waterskins. He didn’t want to be without fresh water if he got stranded outside the barrier. 

Myles slapped his legs, trying to stop their tremors. Even though he was eager to cross the barrier, his body revealed his nerves. A wave of reassurance rippled through his connection with Zael—a clumsy attempt at comfort.

He waded into the sea until he reached the barrier. He took a deep breath before submerging beneath the waves and grabbing Zael's tail. They surged forward, and a tingling sensation spread across his skin as they passed through the barrier.

Then—emptiness. Real, endless emptiness. Myles released Zael's tail, turning in a slow circle. Water extended in every direction, deeper and darker than anything within the barrier. His chest constricted at the sight. No boundaries. No walls. Just vast, open sea that could swallow him whole.

Zael's thoughts prodded his mind—urgent, insistent. Follow. Surface. Now. They broke through together, and Myles gasped in the fresh air. The barrier behind them rose like a wall of dark mist, completely masking the island. The sight puzzled him. It wasn’t transparent like it was from the inside. Before he could ponder it further, Zael's growing impatience buzzed at the edge of his mind.

The outside world differed from the distorted view through the barrier. What had appeared as an endless ocean now revealed features—a sandbar jutting from the waves roughly half a kilometre away. Something stood atop it, a massive shape that broke the horizon line.

As Zael began to move, the words danger, caution, and follow pulsed through their link. Myles matched his pace, arms cutting through the water in steady strokes. Soon after, his muscles began to ache from fighting the current.

The object on the sandbar came into focus. Myles stopped swimming, treading water as his blood turned to ice.

The colossal shape resolved into a serpentine form that stole Myles's breath. Thousands, or even tens of thousands, of scales armoured its body, their petrified surface catching the morning light. The creature's head alone was twice the size of his hut, crowned with swept-back horns that could impale ships. Its frozen jaws gaped open, revealing rows of teeth, each the size of his torso.

The Leviathan. The monster from his mother's stories—the beast that had trapped them behind the barrier and cursed their island to mediocrity. It towered before him, frozen in eternal stillness. He had seen a picture of it, which didn’t do it any justice in terms of its awe-inspiring size and majestic appearance. 

Yet its eyes tracked him. Massive orbs of clouded amber, fixed and unseeing, but somehow aware. Myles fought the urge to dive back into the sea. It must be his imagination. 

He looked around. Whatever had turned this behemoth to stone might still lurk nearby. But Zael swam towards the sandbar without a care in the world. 

Myles' brow furrowed as he realised something. No monsters had approached them so far. The Leviathan's presence might explain that—even petrified, it kept other monsters at bay. But that raised another question: where did Zael hunt? He must venture far beyond this point to find monsters for cores.

Myles followed the serpent onto the sandbar, where he found Zael circling the Leviathan's bulk, as if greeting an old friend. 

“Do you know this monster?” Myles asked.

Zael didn’t answer.

Myle’s legs shook as he approached the Leviathan’s flank. His fingers brushed a scale. Magic surged beneath the stone surface, sending him stumbling backwards.

"It's alive?" 

Zael's impression confirmed his fears. The Leviathan lived, trapped within its stone prison. 

His thoughts drifted to the barrier. Was this the reason why the barrier still existed? Could its effects be maintained even after the Leviathan was petrified? If it had died instead, the island would have been set free. How long had the Leviathan been this way?

Zael twisted through the air, scaling the beast's petrified form. His thoughts urged Myles to follow.

"You’re mad," Myles said, but he planted his spear in the sand and followed him.

The scales made good handholds as he climbed the monster's side. The ascent took several minutes, and he kept his eyes forward, fighting the vertigo from the height. 

Standing on the Leviathan's head, he saw scattered islands on the horizon. They were too far to swim—several kilometres away at least. 

He required a boat. It wouldn’t deter sea monsters but it would allow him to rest when he became tired. Building one in the cove seemed feasible, though it would be crude. If he wanted something more substantial, he needed to gather better materials, which meant going beyond the cove.

“Where’s your hunting ground?”

Zael sent him impressions through their link. Hunt. Halfway. Islands. Crabs. Many. The serpent's thoughts indicated that his hunting grounds were halfway between here and the distant islands. The monsters were large groups of crabs that moved together.

"Still too dangerous for me to venture that far." 

He settled onto the petrified scales, taking long pulls from his waterskin as he watched the horizon. The vastness before him stirred something in his chest—a yearning he'd suppressed for years. 

Questions flooded his mind. Did people inhabit those islands? Were they friendly? What were their thoughts on the barrier? How far away was the nearest continent? How had the world changed while the island remained frozen in time? 

The possibilities stretched before him like the endless sea. After a decade of confinement, the world had cracked open. Technology, culture, monsters—everything waited to be discovered.

The pressure built in his chest until he couldn't contain it. Myles threw back his head and screamed, the sound tearing free from deep within. Joy, defiance and wild hope echoed across the water. His voice cracked but he kept screaming until his throat burned raw.

Zael stared at him with wide eyes.

Myles coughed. "Let’s rest a little longer before returning home."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Myles checked on his mother and found her asleep in her bed, her forehead creased with worry lines. He smoothed them with his fingers before going outside.

He'd need supplies beyond the cove to build a boat. Venturing into village territory was risky. If he ran into villagers, Zael could protect him, but revealing his companion would expose him as a tamer. Instead, he needed to be capable of defending himself.

Opening his status, Myles selected the external martial arts perk. Knowledge surged through his mind—stances, forms, principles. His legs gave way, and he dropped onto the sand as the information overwhelmed him.

The Iron Wave Stance centred around spear techniques, a martial art that imitated the ocean's might. At its core lay the duality of waves: the crushing power when they struck land and their fluid grace in retreat. The form taught practitioners to embody both states, switching between absolute rigidity and complete fluidity.

Like waves building strength in deep water, the stance began with tension flowing upward through the body. Each muscle group tensed in sequence—feet, calves, thighs, core, chest, shoulders, arms. After holding this rigid state, tension released in the same pattern, creating a continuous cycle of power.

Myles rushed inside, grabbed his spear, and returned to the beach. Starting in a low stance, he relaxed his muscles completely. His bare feet sank into the warm sand as he steadied his breathing. Following the form's guidance, he tensed his muscles from feet upward—first his toes, then ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. Each muscle group locked into place until his entire lower body turned rigid. The tension continued climbing—stomach, chest, shoulders, neck—until his whole body hummed with stored energy.

He held for three seconds, muscles straining against the unnatural stillness. Then came the release, flowing downward like a receding tide. His neck softened first, followed by his shoulders, chest, and stomach. The wave of relief moved through his thighs, knees, calves, and ankles, leaving only his toes tense.

Again. And again. Each cycle faster than the last.

Sweat soaked through his shirt and dripped from his chin. His spear trembled in his grip. Despite years of spearfishing, these movements taxed muscles in ways he'd never experienced. His thighs burned from maintaining the low stance. His breath came in ragged gasps as he fought to match the form's prescribed breathing patterns.

He pushed through the discomfort. The knowledge crystallising in his mind showed him glimpses of what this foundation would become—fluid defensive movements, explosive strikes, and seamless transitions between rigid power and liquid grace. But first, he had to master these basics, no matter how his body protested.

"Where did you learn that?"

Myles turned to find his mother watching from the doorway. He silently thanked whatever had drawn Zael away earlier.

"Something I've been working on," he said, shrugging. "Not much else to do around here."

Nerissa nodded. "Mastering a martial art is wise. Being well-rounded allows you to respond appropriately in a variety of situations.”

"I still have a long way to go."

"When will you introduce me to your companion?"

Myles raised an eyebrow. "You're only asking now? Where was your interest before?"

"I assumed you could only tame the fish we eat. I didn't find it particularly interesting."

"What changed your mind?"

"I caught a glimpse of your companion. Is it the same monster that gave you the scar?"

Myles scowled. She hid everything from him, yet he couldn't keep a secret from her. 

"That means—" she trailed off, suggestively.

He remained silent.

"Can you go beyond the barrier? Have you gone beyond the barrier?"

The questions hung between them. He noticed her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. Whatever game she played, this part mattered to her.

Zael surfaced before Myles could reply. The serpent swam to shore, drawn by Nerissa's presence. His curiosity pulsed through their link.

His mother's eyes widened slightly at Zael's appearance. 

Zael glided up to Nerissa and prodded her with his tail, studying her like a puzzle. 

She ran her hand along his length "He's beautiful."

Through their bond, impressions hit Myles: Mother. Hurt. Wrongness. Backlash.

Myles's stomach clenched. Zael suggested her illness wasn't natural but something else entirely. He pushed through their link, seeking clarity, but Zael couldn't explain further. What did Zael mean by "backlash"? 

He'd always blamed her condition on their isolation or some local disease. But this hinted at something darker—another piece of his mother's web of secrets. She had always told him that her condition was incurable. Those words took on a new meaning now that he had context. 

"You still haven't answered my question," Nerissa said.

"I just got back from exploring the outside."

Nerissa gasped. She stopped petting Zael and walked over to him. She gripped Myles's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin with surprising strength.

"You need to leave the island and never come back." Her voice cracked. "There's nothing else for you here."

Myles jerked back. "Nothing else? What about you? Give me time, and I can take you with me."

"I'll never leave this island." She released him. "I don’t have the strength and I must atone for my sins."

"What sins?" His voice rose. "Do you want me gone before I discover your dark secrets?"

"That's part of it."

"Too bad." He stepped away from her. "I'm exploring the island. Whatever you're hiding, I'll find it. Then you can explain yourself to me."

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Myles ventures outside the cove.

Thanks for reading. 















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