Alyx found herself in a garden. The sun overhead hung low on the horizon in a sky painted soft pinks. Flowers filled the beds, their petals a riot of color, their scent sweet in the air. Somewhere nearby was the soft music of birds and the calming whisper of a fountain.

Before her, the garden stopped abruptly, the color flattening into an empty void the color of the sky.

In it, he stood.

"Kelstor!" Alyx ran to the very edge of the garden. Could she step out any further? She looked down. Was it simply a pink floor, or was this the edge of a strange Isle?

"Do I know you?" the dragon asked. He stood out in the pink without issue. "You look familiar, but…"

"It's me." She tentatively stepped out into the nothing. Her feet found something solid beneath her. She didn't dare look down to check what. "It's Alyx."

"Stay back," Kelstor barked.

Alyx froze. Did he not recognize her?

"Alyx? My little Alyx?" His voice was sharp. "No. Do not lie to me, stranger. My Alyx is only a child."

She didn't know if she should be relieved or crushed. He still thought she was a child? Then he didn't know… "You've been gone for twelve years."

His tail curled forward around his back legs, and his head lowered until his horns were level with her. His eyes narrowed. "That's impossible."

"It really is me, Kelstor." Alyx took another step forward.

He shook his head. "That would mean—"

Alyx nodded. "My mother is dead. You're feral."

He took another step away. "Liar. Twelve years feral? Hardly. Someone would have slain me. I don't like this lie, woman."

"We don't have a lot of time to explain. I think the people who killed my mom held you this whole time. Please, bond with me." Alyx held a hand out to him. "We need to avenge her."

"Bond with you?" His head rose a little, but he hadn't relaxed. "I sense the major blessing on you. Why would you bother with a feral beast like me when there are undoubtedly children begging for your protection?"

He was right, of course. She held the Major Blessing. Her future, assuming they got out of the clutches of the Copper Crescent, was certain. She would be a Dragon Knight. She could raise either of the dragonlings into a partner to complement her skills.

He was already well past the Gate. He'd grown to match her mother. There wasn't a lot of room left for him to grow toward her.

Just considering what would make her the most powerful, this was a poor choice. And yet, "I don't want to see you hurting."

He stepped back, a snarl in his words. "You think this is what your mother would want? For you to throw your future away over me?"

"You think this is what she wants for you?" Alyx stepped after him, maintaining the same distance. "To die feral? Would you have me leave you like this? Or would you ask me to kill you? Is that what she'd want for either of us? For her daughter to kill her s—" She forced herself to stop. She didn't know what Kelstor might think of that. "You think she would want me to kill her dragon? You think I want to kill you?"

Slowly, imperceptibly, he shook his head.

"Please, Kelstor." Alyx stepped closer, reaching for him. Her fingers brushed his scaled snout.

He recoiled with a hiss. "Get back, you fool. This side isn't stable. You'll fall through."

She did not retreat. "It'd be plenty stable if you bond with me. Please, Kel?"

She reached up again for him. For a second, she was a small child, not even six, reaching up for his attention.

A grumble rolled in his throat, but he leaned back down to her. "I want better for you."

"I know," Alyx whispered back, stroking his snout. Gently, carefully, pulling him closer. "But I want better for you, too."

"How did you get so old, Aly?" he muttered, his scaly snout nestling closer to her.

"I hate that name, and you know it." She put her forehead to his, like she had done so often as a little girl. Her hands ran up into the soft mane below his horns.

"You should not choose me," he whispered. "The major blessing holder should choose a dragon to protect. To raise. One who will grow to be your strength, as I was raised to be your mother's. I'll never match you the right way."

"That doesn't matter." She stroked the ridges of his face.

"You would be much more powerful if we did."

"Who says?" Alyx asked.

"Everyone."

"I won't."

"Our Concepts don't match," he said. "They're supposed to match."

"We can fix that." She looked up into his eyes. "Please. Let me save you."

He looked away, but didn't pull back. "When did you become so stubborn?"

"Like you're one to talk." She snorted.

"You should not pick me," he said again, but it was nothing more than an empty protest, the force in it gone entirely.

"I know. But I'm going to do it, anyway."

He shook his head. "You won't regret it?"

"The only thing I could regret is leaving you here."

"Can we even do this?" he asked, a tinge of fear creeping into his voice. "Isn't there a reason people don't bond with feral dragons?"

Alyx shook her head. "I don't know. But I'm willing to find out with you. Please, Kelstor, will you accept me as your Knight?"

He sighed, but nodded. "Alyx Veldor, I accept you as my Knight. May I always be your dragon."

A grin slipped across Alyx's face. "Kelstor, I accept you as my dragon. May I always be your knight."

Something clicked as she said it. The world around her shifted and twisted.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Warning: Your bond with the dragon Kelstor has granted you new Concepts.

[One may only possess 3 Concepts. Please fuse Concepts until you possess 3 or fewer.

Current Concepts:

- Light

- Grasping

- Sword

- Flame

- Wilds

- Wing]

Refusing to do so may result in Breakage.

It was hot and windy and she couldn't breathe. A pressure crushed her. She felt like an explosion squeezed in a shrinking room.

She needed to fuse Concepts? How did one do that?

She had heard about Concept fusion. It was a waste of time, if not actively harmful. Pure Concepts, derived from treasures or monsters, were just better. They were the manifestation of a cultural understanding of an idea, while fused or mutated Concepts were only an individual's understanding. They were inherently shallower.

But Salos had disagreed with that, hadn't he? He'd thought Concepts should be tailored to the individual.

Which kind were Cass's? Cass was unreasonably strong. More so than simply stats or skills could explain. Was that because she had individualized Concepts?

Warning: Too many Concepts. Automatically Breaking: Wing.

Alyx screamed as something shattered. Shards of what felt like glass burst through her body, raking through her mind.

Something inexplicable was lost.

But the pressure significantly lessened.

Warning: Too many Concepts. One may only possess 3 Concepts. Please fuse Concepts until you possess 3 or fewer. Refusing to do so may result in Breakage.

'May'? Yeah, right. More like 'will' and 'immediately'.

She grit her teeth and forced herself to focus. It didn't matter if fused or pure Concepts were better. Either she figured out how to fuse them, or she was going to have to put up with the pain of her Concepts breaking two more times.

It hurt, but she thought she could handle it.

It would probably—

The pain flowed back into her. She flinched, her entire body contracting as if that would somehow alleviate it. At her side, Kelstor was screaming. How long had he been screaming?

She put a hand out to him. They'd survive this. They had to.

As her hand brushed against his snout, the pain spiked again.

Or, no. His pain flowed directly into her. This was his pain in the first place. His Concept breaking. Alyx was just feeling the reverberations.

"A-Alyx," he whimpered.

"I'm here," she whispered back.

"It didn't hurt last time." He meant when her mother bonded to him. Probably because he'd been a child with no Concepts of his own then. He'd easily taken on her mother's. There had been no overload like this.

"I'll make it stop," Alyx assured him. Somehow, she'd make it stop. She just had to figure out how to fuse her remaining Concepts. While this pain echoed around her. Before the System Broke another one for her. "But I might need your help."

He nodded weakly.

[Current Concepts:

- Light

- Grasping

- Sword

- Flame

- Wilds]

Five Concepts remaining. Vaguely, she thought she had heard someone saying something about the more Concepts one tried to fuse at once, the harder it became. Something about contradictory meanings causing friction in the process?

She was also pretty sure she'd heard that fusion—if one even went that route—was only something to consider after one developed a deep understanding of and connection to their Concepts.

She barely understood the three she'd brought to the equation. She had not succeeded in applying any of them to her stats, and only two of her skills had Concepts:

Radiant Aura (lvl 15) (Light)

[Your aura is a force unto itself. Declare yourself and throw back those who try to restrict you.

Blast your aura out around you from the impact of your weapon against a surface, creating a wave of aura strong enough to push nearby entities away.

Association with the Concept of Light increases the brightness of your aura, blinding those who witness with a chance to stun them.]

Commander's Rally (lvl 10) (Grasping)

[A true leader commands from the battlefield, directing their followers with orders that cut above the din.

Rally your followers with a shout, raising morale and buffing skill levels and stats slightly. Specific orders can be given to reorganize your allies.

Association with the Concept of Grasping increases the chances your allies will hear your rally or orders regardless of the situation and improves the likelihood they follow them without question.]

Light, as she understood it, was about forcing herself to be seen. About making them acknowledge her. Grasping was much the same, wasn't it? Making them hear her, no matter the situation.

Wouldn't that mean they'd combine without issue? Could she force them into something like Declaration or Acknowledgment?

Even as she suggested it, it felt hollow.

All her life, she'd been performing for her family. She'd done everything and anything to win their approval. That was what had sent her chasing after a dragon. Why she needed to win the Festival.

And yet, she hadn't followed through. She was here, saving Kelstor, saving Cass, instead. A feral dragon should be put down, not rescued. Cass was an outsider. If Alyx wanted her family's approval, fighting in the arena was the better answer, not running off on rumors Cass was in danger.

But these were the right things.

These were the right things.

Even if they set her back. Even if she was hurt trying to see them through.

The Concept of Light flickered with the idea, as if to endorse it. Grasping lay quiet.

Was this a dead end?

"How did my mother understand Flame and Wilds?" Alyx asked.

"Flame was our weapon," Kelstor said. "She wore it on her sword and in her hair. It was my breath and my claws. Flame was the promise we would rise again stronger. She said it was a Concept she carried from her homeland. That it was weaker here initially, but that every time she used it, it was stronger than before."

Aris, the Everburning. People had called her mother that once. Her stained glass portraits always depicted her with flaming hair and a burning sword.

It wasn't a Vaisom Concept? Or maybe it hadn't been originally. Maybe her mother had forged it into one all on her own.

"Wilds was our refuge. My scales, her armor. A place for us to return to when there was no duty to perform. When the court and city didn't need us. An escape."

Alyx remembered trips out into the wilderness when she was small. Her mother often took her hunting. Well, more accurately, her mother went hunting with her friends, and Alyx tagged along under Telis and Marco's watchful eyes. Alyx had always assumed those were subjugation assignments from the duchy. Were they actually an excuse to get out of the city?

Alyx didn't need an escape. She was strong enough to stand her ground on what she wanted. She'd worked tirelessly to get at least that much.

She'd be dead by now if she hadn't.

But what had it gotten her?

She was actively trying to strong-arm her way into a family that didn't want her. That refused to acknowledge her.

Did she actually want any of that?

If escape had ever been presented as an option, would she have taken that instead?

No. There had been no point. There was only victory or death. Even marginal victory had been worth risking it all for, because what did she have to lose? Her tentative position in the city? Her strained relationship with her brothers?

Her death would have meant nothing but freedom for her retainers—a mercy her mother should have granted them from the beginning.

And now? Escape was still not something that appealed to her. Even with Kelstor at her side, the idea of running rankled.

But Grasping ached at the thought.

Of escape? No, not quite.

Rather, an idea Kelstor's description of Wilds skirted around.

"A place to return to." The words slipped out into the silence. They ached. They promised.

A scene flashed before her eyes. Childhood. The yard of her mother's workshop. Late afternoon. The sun trickled through a canopy of vines growing through the pergola between the pond and the workshop, the dappled sunlight dancing softly on her skin as she dozed to the sounds of her mother's forge.

The world was simple. The world was safe.

And it was gone. But the Grasping yearned for it. Wilds whispered maybe it could be again, if she could but find it.

She clenched her hands. This was it.

Grasping was a hungry want. But a want with no goal. It was impossible to satisfy because it was the act of wanting itself.

Wilds, on the other hand, was a promise. For her mother, maybe it had been a promise of no expectations. There was no need to search for it, because her mother had it. But for Alyx, it was an answer.

She pushed the ideas together. Wilds, unexpectedly docile. Grasping as hungry as ever. Grasping pounced, consuming Wilds like a rabid animal.

The world around her twisted again. Her stomach flipped. Kelstor groaned.

Concepts Grasping and Wilds have been fused. Congratulations on creating: Vines.

Warning: Too many Concepts. One may only possess 3 Concepts. Please fuse Concepts until you possess 3 or fewer. Refusing to do so may result in Breakage.

[Current Concepts:

- Light

- Sword

- Flame

- Vines]

The pressure dropped again.

Vines wasn't what she had imagined would be the outcome of fusing Grasping and Wilds, but she could feel how it was right. The reaching desire of the plant to expand out and find another anchor point to call home. The way it formed mats and alcoves. It searched for and created small spaces of sanctuary.

Around her, the garden rippled, spreading under her feet and consuming the void she and Kelstor stood in. Vines crept up the trees that decorated the garden's edges.

She needed to make one more pair.

The garden shook. Something grabbed her shoulder and yanked her down. The ground liquefied under her feet.

"Alyx!" Kelstor yelled as she was pulled under.

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