Traebus stared at the creature in front of him. Something about the predator nagged at him, a flicker of recognition he couldn''t quite place. The patterns on its scales, the way its head tilted ever so slightly as it measured him—it felt familiar. But Traebus didn’t have time to connect the dots because, a second later, the beast lunged.
He barely had time to throw himself backward, narrowly dodging the flash of curved talons that raked the air where his chest had been a moment before. His boot scraped against the uneven stone as he stumbled, one foot dangling over open air for a terrifying heartbeat before he caught himself.
His hands went instinctively to his belt, searching for a weapon—anything—only to come up empty. No spear. No gauntlet. Not even a half-decent rock to throw.
"Oh, great. Unarmed. Fantastic timing," he muttered between frantic breaths.
The raptor didn’t wait for him to lament his situation. It hissed again, snapping its jaws as it advanced, sharp claws clicking against the stone. Traebus twisted his body to the side just as it lunged, narrowly dodging a swipe that would have gutted him. He ducked and scrambled up a few steps, but the predator followed, effortlessly keeping pace, its long tail counterbalancing each movement with lethal precision.
Dusk growled from above, pacing anxiously at the edge of the stairwell, but the walkway was too narrow for him to intervene. The larger lizard let out a low, frustrated trill, flicking anxious pulses through their link, but there was nothing he could do without sending them both tumbling over the edge.
"Yeah, yeah, I know this is bad!" Traebus snapped, ducking another swipe. "Feel free to offer some actual advice!"
Dusk''s reply was an urgent blast of MOVE! just as the raptor leapt again, teeth flashing toward Traebus'' throat.
Traebus twisted violently to the side, feeling the rush of air as the beast’s jaws snapped shut just inches from his face. He lost his footing for a moment, his boots scraping against the stone as he barely avoided toppling into the open void below. His pulse hammered in his ears, panic surging through him as the raptor recovered instantly, its sickle claws slashing dangerously close.
And then it clicked.
He had been making the stairs. Shaping the very rock beneath his feet. The entire stairwell was his weapon.
A slow, wild grin crept onto his face. "Alright, lizard-brain, let''s see how you like playing on my battlefield."
The raptor lunged again, but this time, Traebus moved with purpose. He didn’t just dodge—he reached out with his magic, pressing his palm to the stone as he shifted sideways. The step beneath the raptor’s foot shifted ever so slightly. Just enough.
The beast snarled as it stumbled, its balance momentarily thrown off. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Encouraged, Traebus moved again, focusing on the structure of the stairs, willing the rock to betray his opponent. Another subtle shift—another unsteady footing.
The raptor screeched in frustration, claws scrambling to correct its stance. It realized the trap too late.
With a final push of magic, Traebus pulled at the step directly beneath the beast’s back foot, cracking the stone. The raptor yelped as the rock crumbled, its hind leg slipping into open space. It scrabbled wildly, but gravity took hold, and with a furious snarl, the predator lost its grip and plummeted downward.
Traebus barely had time to exhale before a sharp, guttural hiss echoed from below. His eyes snapped downward just in time to see the raptor—still alive—its claws digging desperately into the cliffside. It had managed to snag an outcropping of rock, stopping its freefall halfway down.
For a moment, the two locked eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, the raptor began climbing.
"Oh, come on," Traebus groaned. "Is there anything on this forsaken world that doesn’t have an irrational, single-minded obsession with murdering me?"
Dusk sent a dry pulse of agreement, but there was an edge of unease to it.
The raptor climbed with ruthless efficiency, its talons carving into the rock as it pulled itself upward. It wasn’t just trying to escape the fall—it was still hunting him. Still focused. Still determined.
Traebus wiped the sweat from his brow, cursing under his breath. "Alright, sure. Why not? I love repeat customers."
Gritting his teeth, he pressed his palm against the stone, channeling what energy he had left. If this thing wanted to climb up after him, he was going to make it suffer for the effort.
Thin, jagged spears of rock began jutting out from the cliffside just below the raptor, each one angled to pierce or knock it loose. The predator dodged the first few, twisting its body with inhuman agility, its tail lashing as it maneuvered around the spikes. It climbed higher, relentless.
Traebus grunted, narrowing his focus. "Alright, let’s see how good you really are."
Another spike burst from the rock, then another—one slicing a thin red line across the raptor’s side, but it barely reacted. It was too close now, almost within reach, its glowing predatory eyes locked onto him with terrifying focus.
Desperate, Traebus shoved more magic into the stone. A final spike shot outward at an unfortunate angle—straight into the raptor’s lower abdomen.
The shriek that tore from its throat was earsplitting.
The predator thrashed wildly, its grip faltering as sheer agony overtook instinct. Its claws scraped against the rock in a frantic bid to hold on, but the force of the impact had already done its work. With one last wretched screech, it lost its grip entirely and was flung backward into the open air.
It tumbled down in a flailing, twisting mass of limbs, its pained shriek ringing through the canyon. As it fell, a flicker of memory surfaced in Traebus’ mind—a distant echo of a very similar, very high-pitched scream from days before.
His breath caught. "Wait. No way. That can’t be the same—"
With a final, tragic splash, the raptor vanished into the churning ocean below.
Traebus stared down at the foaming water, barely able to process what just happened.
Dusk, watching from above, sent a quiet pulse of amusement.
"I think… I think I just spent all my energy fighting a dinosaur I already punched in the nuts once before," Traebus muttered, rubbing his temples. "This world is officially out to get me."
Traebus and Dusk kept a watchful eye on the cliffside for several long minutes, waiting for any sign that the raptor would make yet another miraculous return. But nothing surfaced. No snarls, no scrabbling claws—just the rhythmic crash of the waves below and the occasional sea bird wheeling overhead.
"Alright, I think it’s actually dead this time," Traebus muttered, rolling his shoulders and exhaling deeply. "Probably."
Dusk flicked an unimpressed pulse of uncertainty.
"Yeah, well, you’re not the one that had to throw magic spears at its—look, let’s just finish the stairs."
Still shaken but unwilling to leave the job unfinished, Traebus turned back to his task. With renewed focus, he pressed his hands against the rock and began channeling what little magic he had left into carving the remaining steps. His fingers trembled with exhaustion, but he pushed through, shaping the last few footholds with careful precision.
The climb stretched on as the afternoon light began to fade, shadows lengthening across the cliff face. By the time he reached the final ledge, sweat dripped from his brow, and his limbs felt like lead. But as he pulled himself over the edge and took his first steps onto solid ground, a triumphant grin crossed his face.
"Finally."
Dusk was only a few steps behind, shaking out his scales as he reached the top. He sent back a vague impression of relief, mixed with exasperation—as if scolding Traebus for almost dying again.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"Oh, don’t give me that look," Traebus said, stretching his aching muscles. "We made it. We’re not dead. And best of all, we don’t have to fight that thing again. I’d say that’s a win."
Dusk simply flicked his tail, unimpressed.
Traebus turned his gaze outward, scanning their new vantage point. The jungle stretched out before them in an endless sea of green, rolling hills and towering trees disappearing into the horizon. He didn’t know what lay ahead—but at least now, they had a clearer path forward.
Turning away from the jungle, Traebus shifted his gaze toward the ocean. That was when he saw it—a towering pillar of rock, rising from the sea like an isolated fortress. It was massive, the size of a small island, with sheer, vertical sides and a flat top that looked untouched by the chaos of the jungle.
He squinted at it, rubbing his chin. "That… that looks secure."
Dusk padded up beside him, following his gaze. There was a long pause before he flicked an impression through their bond—agreeable, but unreachable.
"Oh, come on. You don’t think we can get over there?" Traebus scoffed, folding his arms. "It’s perfect. No giant crocodiles, no murderous raptors, and best of all, only one way up. That means nothing can sneak up on us in the middle of the night."
Dusk hesitated before sending back a pulse of cautious optimism. It was a solid choice for a stronghold—if they could reach it.
Traebus looked between the pillar and the edge of the cliff where they stood. The gap between them was just wide enough to be problematic—fifty feet, maybe a little more. Too far to jump, too unstable to rely on makeshift rafts.
He cracked his knuckles. "Alright, new plan. I’m going to dig a bridge."
Dusk’s head snapped toward him, frills twitching in clear confusion. The lizard sent back a strong pulse of what?
Traebus sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know how it sounds, but hear me out. Terraformation—it''s an advanced form of earth magic that reinforces stone by infusing it with raw magic. Makes it more stable than any normal construction methods would allow."
Dusk still radiated skepticism, sending back an impression of crumbling rock and an are you sure about this? kind of feeling.
"Oh, have a little faith!" Traebus said, waving a hand. "I’ve done it before. Well… not a bridge, per se, but the concept’s the same. Instead of shaping stairs out of the cliffside, I extend the rock outward, layer by layer, until we have something solid connecting us to that big hunk of safety out there."
Dusk’s skepticism didn’t fade, but the idea of a fortress that was nearly inaccessible clearly appealed to him. After a moment, he sent back a reluctant pulse of try it and see.
Traebus grinned. "Exactly the kind of reckless encouragement I was hoping for."
Dusk remained skeptical but didn’t argue further, stepping back to watch as Traebus prepared to begin. As he raised his hands to start the first layer of the bridge, a familiar chorus of chirping trills echoed up from below. The smaller lizards had finally caught up, scampering up the newly finished stairwell with eager curiosity.
Traebus shot them a glance. "Oh, great. The peanut gallery has arrived."
The little ones chattered excitedly, their bright eyes flicking between him and the space between the cliff and the towering rock pillar. One of them tilted its head, seemingly contemplating the drop, before trilling softly—perhaps asking if Traebus really intended to make a bridge.
"Yes, I really am doing this," Traebus muttered, flexing his fingers. "Now hush, let the professional work."
With a deep breath, he pressed his palms against the rocky ledge and began channeling his magic. The stone groaned in response as he coaxed it forward, a thin layer of earth extending outward over the open air. It was slow, careful work—each foot of progress requiring intense focus to keep the formation stable.
Five feet. That was all he could manage before the strain hit him like a war hammer. His vision swam, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his legs wobbled beneath him. He barely stopped himself from collapsing outright, leaning against the rock for support.
Dusk let out an unimpressed snort.
"Oh, shut up," Traebus grumbled, rubbing his temples. "Turns out, making a bridge from scratch isn’t exactly easy. I think… maybe ten feet a day, tops. Then I’ll need an extra day to reinforce it so it doesn’t crumble under us."
Dusk considered this, then sent back an impression of tedious, but doable.
Traebus sighed. "Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Guess we better get comfortable."
As he leaned against the rock, his breath still unsteady, a troubling thought crept into his mind. The exhaustion, the headaches, the way his body felt drained rather than merely tired—this wasn’t normal magical exertion. He had been pushing himself too hard, relying too much on sheer force without fully understanding the raw primal magic of this world.
His fingers clenched slightly as the realization settled. "I think… I think I’ve been doing this all wrong. This magic—whatever it is—it’s not like the structured mana I’m used to. It’s raw, chaotic. I’m just burning through it like a fool. That’s why I feel like death warmed over every time I try something big."
Dusk, still lying near the fire, flicked his head toward Traebus, his frills rising slightly in concern. He sent a pulse of alarm through their bond, followed by a sharp impression of danger, damage, stop.
"Yeah, I know, big guy. I know," Traebus muttered, rubbing at his temples. "If I don’t figure out how to properly use this magic, I might actually be killing myself every time I cast."
Dusk sat up fully now, his amber eyes locking onto Traebus with something close to genuine worry.
Traebus exhaled slowly, staring at the unfinished bridge. He couldn’t keep doing this—not like this. If he wanted to survive in this world, he needed to adapt, not just brute force his way through.
"Alright," he muttered. "Tomorrow, I start figuring this out. Before I accidentally drop dead from my own stupidity."
Dusk, still radiating concern, stepped closer and nudged Traebus with his snout, a firm but surprisingly gentle motion. Traebus rolled his eyes but didn’t protest as Dusk positioned himself next to him, offering support. Together, they made their way back down the stairwell, each step testing Traebus’ unsteady legs. By the time they reached the small two-room cave he had dug out earlier, exhaustion had settled deep in his bones.
With a groan, Traebus slumped against the stone wall and exhaled. "Okay. This is fine. This is manageable. Probably."
Dusk sent back a flat pulse of skepticism but said nothing else as he curled up near the cave entrance, keeping watch. The smaller lizards, who had followed them back, chirped softly as they settled in various nooks and crannies around the space.
Traebus took a deep breath and pulled the crude ring foci from his fingers, eyeing them critically. The engravings were shallow, functional but unrefined. They had served their purpose, but he needed something better. Something that would allow him to direct this chaotic magic rather than letting it run rampant through his body. He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out one of the bone needles he had scavenged earlier.
"Alright, let’s see if I can’t fix some of my mistakes before they actually kill me," he muttered, rolling the needle between his fingers before setting to work.
As he traced the bone needle along the rough engravings of the rings, he reconsidered his earlier approach. Adding more utility to the foci wasn’t the right answer—overcomplicating the process would just make it harder to control. Instead, what he needed was stability. A way to filter and refine the chaotic energy before it entered his body, rather than struggling to shape it after the fact.
The problem was, he had no idea how to do that.
With a frustrated sigh, he scraped away at one of the shallow lines in the rings, deepening the engraving in a slow, careful motion. The bone needle wasn’t ideal, but it was what he had. If he could adjust the channels in the rings to purify the mana as he used it, maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t feel like he was actively killing himself every time he cast.
He worked in silence, the small cave illuminated only by the faint glow of embers from the fire. The lizards had all settled in, their small forms tucked into the nooks of the cave, occasionally emitting soft trills in their sleep. Even Dusk had curled up by the entrance, his breathing slow and steady, though Traebus could feel a lingering sense of concern radiating from their bond.
He didn’t blame him. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with this realization either.
His hands slowed, his grip loosening on the needle as exhaustion seeped deeper into his bones. He blinked blearily at the half-finished engraving, struggling to keep his focus. Just a little more, just a few more adjustments—
His head slumped forward, the bone needle slipping from his fingers as sleep overtook him before he could finish.
A distant, echoing roar jarred him awake.
Traebus’ heart pounded as he shot upright, disoriented. The cave walls flickered with dying firelight, casting long shadows that danced across the stone. His mind scrambled to catch up—where was he? What had just happened? The rush of the last few days came crashing back all at once. The bridge. The magic. The exhaustion. The raptor.
He rubbed his face groggily, groaning. "Fantastic. Not only am I wrecking my own body with bad magic, now I’m also sleep-deprived. Love that for me."
Dusk cracked open one golden eye from his spot near the entrance, watching him blearily. The larger lizard gave a soft, unimpressed huff before resting his head back down, unconcerned by whatever had woken Traebus.
The smaller lizards didn’t even stir, curled up in tiny piles along the cave floor, their tiny bodies rising and falling in peaceful sleep.
Traebus exhaled slowly, willing his nerves to settle. Whatever had roared was distant—probably some big ugly beast stomping around the jungle. Nothing immediate. Nothing here.
"Right. Great. Back to sleep then," he muttered, shaking his head. "Assuming nothing else tries to kill me before sunrise."
When Traebus awoke again, the cave was empty.
He sat up groggily, blinking at the absence of Dusk and the smaller lizards. A flicker of unease crept into his thoughts, but he pushed it aside. They had probably gone off to hunt or explore—not everything had to be a catastrophe. He rolled his shoulders, still sore from the previous day’s exertion, and turned his attention back to the rings he had been working on.
Pulling them from his fingers, he examined the half-carved runes. His previous plan had been flawed. He had been trying to make each ring do too much, overloading their purpose, which only added to his inefficient use of mana. No wonder it felt like his insides were being wrung out like a damp cloth every time he cast anything major.
"Alright, let’s rethink this," he muttered to himself.
Taking a deep breath, he carefully channeled a tiny bit of magic into his fingertips, intending to erase the existing engravings with precision. Instead, the power flared uncontrollably, sparking through his hands and igniting his sleeve.
"Oh, come on!" he yelped, frantically slapping at the smoldering fabric until the embers died out. He scowled at the singed edge. "Great. Real professional work, Traebus."
With a more careful touch, he scraped away the shallow runes he had inscribed, removing the tangled mess of overcomplicated functions. Once the rings were smooth again, he set about refining their purposes. Instead of making each ring a jack-of-all-trades, he assigned them individual roles—one for gathering mana, one for storing it, another for purifying it, and the last for projecting controlled spells.
It wasn’t a perfect system, but it was a start.
Satisfied with his new approach, he flexed his fingers and slid the rings back on, feeling the difference already. Now, he just had to test them—preferably in a way that didn’t involve him setting himself on fire again.