The Ice Rain had shattered their world. At five years old, Raika and Veyn had lost everything; family, home, and the security of a village.
Their survival had been nothing short of a miracle, two small bodies running through the frozen plains, dodging shards of death as blood soaked the snow beneath their feet.
But what came after?
They had no village to return to, no adults to guide them. The two of them, mere children, became their own world.
They avoided settlements, fearing that another disaster might take them away from each other. They had seen what the Ice Rain could do. The memory of bodies impaled, frozen in their last moments of agony, the screams of the dying echoing in their ears... it haunted them. It made them paranoid, distrustful of safety that could be stolen in an instant.
So they lived outside of villages, making the wilderness their home.
For years, Raika and Veyn were inseparable. They slept under the same stars, hunted together, shared warmth in the coldest nights. Raika, ever the warrior, had been the one who fought against wild beasts, her strength growing with each passing year. Veyn, though not weak, had taken another path. He became the shadow between the trees, learning to move unseen, to steal from the ruins of fallen villages without ever being caught.
Raika fought. Veyn survived.
Together, they thrived.
By the time they turned fifteen, they were no longer the children who had fled the Ice Rain. They were a force, a pair of survivors molded by hardship and the unshakable trust between them.
It was at fifteen that Veyn faced the truth of his kind.
The Mate Choosing Ritual was not a simple event. It was a battle, a display of raw dominance, instinct, and survival.
For the sentient Krepsunas living in both the Fallen Bridge, males were not weak. In fact, they were physically stronger than females on average. But that didn't matter because it wasn't about physical strength.
It was about who controlled the relationship.
A Krepsuna woman wanted the strongest mate she could get. Not just for herself, but for the future of her bloodline. A weak man meant weak children. A strong man ensured powerful offspring. But there was more to it than that.
Pride.
A Krepsuna man who was strong but easily claimed was a man without dignity.
For the females, choosing a mate was a battle of instincts. They fought for what they desired because, when given the chance to have the man they wanted, they would treat it as a life-or-death situation.
A man who was weak physically, mentally, or in willpower would be taken advantage of, discarded when he no longer served a purpose.
That was why Krepsuna men pushed themselves to be stronger. If they weren't strong enough, they would be competed for.
And no man wanted to be a trophy.
It wasn't oppression, nor was it unfair. It was balance.
A man could claim a woman too. If he was strong enough to subdue a female, to prove himself as an undeniable force, she would willingly submit. But more often than not, it was the women who claimed the reins.
Because only the strongest of men could reverse the cycle. It was a system that existed in both Dimensium and Spheraphase.
In Spheraphase, the balance between genders shifted depending on race. For instance, Spheraphasian humans leaned toward female dominance. Spheraphasian Elves had equal dominance. Therianthropes, dwarves and other races leaned on male dominance.
But in Dimensium, where the Krepsunas ruled, women were always the ones who dictated the flow of relationships. It wasn't about oppression or forced submission. It was simply the way of their nature.
And for six years, Raika had fought for Veyn.
Not because he was weak. Not because he couldn't protect himself but because he didn't want to be claimed.
Every year, power-hungry women had tried to take him. Veyn, with his striking features, untainted bloodline and sharp mind, was exactly what they wanted. He could have chosen to be stronger, to fight back, to make himself someone who could claim rather than be claimed.
But he had no desire to be part of it.
And so, Raika fought for him.
She had beaten down every single challenger, cracking bones, breaking limbs, forcing submission through sheer brute force. She was stronger than most men. She was a monster of war, a force that no one could best.
She gained battle experience from fighting so she found the rewards white pleasing.
Veyn watched, year after year, as she defended his right to be free.
As they sat in their cave, the fire casting flickering shadows on the walls, Veyn stared at the meat cooking in the pot.
"...Six years," he muttered. "You've done this for me for six years."
Raika, lying on her side, chewing on a strip of boar meat, smirked.
"Yeah. And?"
"...I don't know." He sighed, leaning his head back. "I just feel like I should do something about it."
"You want to fight back now?"
Veyn hesitated.
"...No," he admitted.
Raika grinned.
"Then I'll keep doing it," she said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Veyn ran a hand through his white hair. "...You know, most men love this. Having women fight over them."
"Yeah, and most men don't have a choice. You do."
Veyn exhaled slowly.
"...You're the only reason I do."
Raika stretched, her muscles flexing under her skin. "Damn right I am."
For now, at least, he was still free. And Raika would make damn sure it stayed that way.
°°°°°°°
The pale light of dawn barely pierced through the thick clouds hanging over the plains as Raika and Veyn set out early.
The wind howled across the frozen wasteland, blowing fine powdery snow in streams that snaked over the ground like restless spirits.
Despite the cold, Raika was walking ahead without so much as a shiver, her cloak billowing behind her as she carried a club over her shoulder like it was weightless. Veyn followed beside her, quieter than usual, his eyes flicking toward her every so often.
Neither spoke as they reached the entrance. It was carved into a rocky outcrop, jagged and broken as if the ground had split from some ancient quake.
A wide tunnel sloped downward, the walls supported by ice-stained bones from beasts long dead. The air inside the tunnel was warmer, rank with sweat, musk, and something sour that made Veyn's stomach turn.
And then they reached the bottom.
The venue was massive.
Dug deep beneath the earth, it stretched in a colossal circle, wide enough to hold an entire village within its walls. Torches burned blue along the perimeter, casting an eerie glow over the packed crowd.
Raised platforms lined the sides, made of stone and ice. These were the seating areas for the females, the spectators of what was about to happen. And at the center was the arena.
But what struck Veyn first wasn't the scale.
It was the atmosphere.
It felt more like a marketplace, yet not the kind where goods were sold. This was a flesh market. You could smell it. You could hear it in the low murmurs of haggling, the cruel laughter, and the muffled sobs that drifted up from the holding pens lining the lower levels of the coliseum.
Rows of males were caged in ice-barred cells.
Their wrists bound in glimmering iron shackles that fed off their essence, weakening them until they slumped in exhaustion.
Some stared blankly into nothing. Others snarled at their captors, rage and desperation twisting their faces. Some—too many—sat there with dead, hollow eyes, long past hope.
They were weak mates to be chosen.
Raika walked beside Veyn in silence, her gaze hard as stone. But Veyn could feel the tension in her shoulders as her hand gripped the haft of her staff tighter.
The females moved freely, each marked with tribal tattoos and battle scars. Some wore the bones of the males they'd killed in past rituals as jewelry.
They swaggered through the pathways between pens, bartering, boasting about whose mate would bring them better children, laughing as they made side bets over who would break first.
And breaking, they did.
Veyn saw it. Males were dragged from their cages into private pits off to the side, where their bodies were tested—sometimes fought for, sometimes… worse.
He watched as a male who was barely of age was hauled by a thick chain, his skin raw where the metal cut into his neck. A tall female grabbed his jaw, inspecting his teeth like livestock. She ran her claws over his chest, then further, appraising him in front of a crowd that jeered and shouted their opinions.
Another was thrown to his knees as a group of females surrounded him, claws out. They tore his clothes, exposing him completely, ignoring his choked protests. His fists clenched, but he didn't fight back.
Not because he couldn't—he was muscular, clearly strong—but because resisting would only make it worse. He shook as their hands groped him, their teeth scraping his skin as they laughed about what he'd be like when it was their turn.
They spoke in crude terms about rape, about breeding him until he either gave them strong children or died in the process. It wasn't done in secret, nor was it shamed. It was accepted.
It was how things were.
Veyn's stomach twisted, bile rising in his throat. He realized then that if Raika hadn't been by his side all these years, if she hadn't stood for him, fought for him, guarded him from this insanity, this could have been him.
He could have been one of those males in a cage.
He could have been paraded around, stripped and poked and "tested." He could have been claimed by one of those ruthless females, used like an object.
Raika stopped walking. She looked over at him.
"You alright?" She asked.
Veyn's jaw clenched. "...Yeah."
She stared at him a moment longer, then nodded. "Don't look at them. You're not like them. You've got me."
He swallowed hard, glancing back once at the cages, watching a female slam her foot into a male's gut, knocking the wind from him as he coughed blood. Another group nearby dragged a male by his horns, jeering as they argued over who got to breed him first.
"Don't think they're weak," Raika said, reading his thoughts as if he'd spoken aloud. "Some of those males are stronger than me. But strength doesn't matter if you don't have pride. If you accept this as normal…"
She shrugged.
"You're finished."
Veyn took a slow breath, steadying himself. But he followed her, keeping his head up.
"I won't let them touch me," he said.
Raika gave a sharp grin. "Damn right you won't."
They kept walking. The crowds parted as they moved toward the preparation area. Females gave Raika wary glances; they knew her reputation.
She was the one who always won.
The one who never let anyone claim Veyn.
And she wasn't about to let that change.