Andy

But today Andy crossed the line. He deliberately provoked a fight after school, in the vacant lot behind the school. He knew you were defenseless. He knew no one would stand up for you.

"Come on, show me your beast!" he shouted, and his group parted, surrounding you in a tight circle. The hyenas snarled, growled, and pressed on your psyche. "Is there a snail? A worm? A cockroach?"

You stood in the center, clenching your fists. Everything inside you was shaking—from fear, from anger, from helplessness. You were almost giving up, your head already lowered, bracing for the next blow.

And then the world stopped.

A shadow covered the wasteland, huge and alive. Someone behind you gasped, someone recoiled. You looked up.

A dragon soared above you, wings spread. Not a lizard, but a real dragon. Its scales shimmered dark gold, its eyes glowed amber, and the shadow of its wings covered everyone—you, the hyenas, and Andy, who suddenly looked small and pitiful.

The pack backed away. Some of their legs gave way. The hyenas whined, crouched low, and hid behind each other—instinct, an animal fear of those higher up the food chain.

"What the..." Andy breathed out, his voice breaking.

"But how?!" someone in the group shouted. "They're considered extinct! No one has seen them for hundreds of years!"

The dragon emitted a low, guttural sound—not a roar, more of a warning. The hyenas cowered. You stood beneath his wing, feeling something awaken deep within you that hadn't been there before.

You glanced at Andy. He looked at the dragon, then at you. For the first time, fear flickered in his eyes.

"This... this can't be your totem," he whispered. "There are no such things."

You didn't answer. You simply stood there, looking down at him, feeling the dragon lower its head next to your shoulder, protecting you, shielding you from the world.

You knew that today everything would change. Forever.

You lived in a world where everyone acquired a totem animal in their teens. Wolves, snakes, sheep, eagles—the more dangerous and predatory the beast, the higher the person's status. At twelve, your peers boasted about the sparks of magic from which their animals were born. By sixteen, everyone knew who you were—a lone wolf or a pack buffalo, an eagle or a venomous snake.

You haven't got anything.

Not at twelve, not at thirteen, not at fourteen. You waited, trying to feel something. Your classmates stopped waiting. At first they just whispered, then laughed openly. A defect, a dud, a nobody. Parents averted their eyes, teachers gave you Cs for effort, and then stopped calling you to the board altogether.

"Maybe you'll get a rat?" smirked Andy, one of the school bullies. His spirit animal was a hyena. Not the strongest beast, but hyenas don't travel alone. He always had a pack of equally vicious boys hanging around him, ready to tear apart anyone weaker.

Andy chose you as his favorite toy a year ago. He pushed you in the hallway, hid your backpack, and called you names in front of everyone. You learned to be patient, keep quiet, clench your fists, and wait for the day to end.