Mia had never seen such chaos disguised as professionalism as she did at the Windmere District Teachers' Monthly Council Meeting. The meeting room smelled faintly of tea, ink, and something suspiciously like pickled turnips. Teachers bustled about with clipboards and beasts perched politely on shoulder pads or nestled in woven satchels marked "emotional support only." An old tortoise with spectacles and a paisley shawl poured tea for a trio of squirrel-riders. A giant moth beast fluttered near the ceiling, passing out agendas. Mia stared around the room, a little stunned and slightly overwhelmed. She clutched her notepad like a shield as Professor Hootsworth preened on her shoulder. "I thought this was a meeting, not a beast-themed masquerade ball," she whispered. "It's both," he replied dryly. "And if someone tries to sell you motivational slime oil again, politely decline. Last time it took me three days to get the glitter out of my feathers."
She was just starting to relax—genuinely enjoying the sight of a fluffy wolf pup scribbling notes on a chalkboard with its tail—when a name on the printed agenda caught her eye: **"District Novice Tamer Challenge – Spring Registration Now Open!"**Her eyebrows shot up. She leaned toward a nearby teacher, a woman with moss-green robes and a mossier-looking caterpillar beast snuggled in her hood. "Excuse me, what's the Novice Tamer Challenge?"The woman blinked, then grinned. "Oh, that's our annual competition for new tamers! Friendly duels, coordination exercises, beast performance rounds—the usual fun. It's open to any registered tamer with no more than two contracted beasts and under one year of field experience. Great exposure for your class if you enter. The kids love it.""Is it dangerous?" Mia asked immediately."Only to egos," the woman chuckled. "It's strictly monitored. No wild summons or rogue spells. Just skill, training, and a little flair."Professor Hootsworth adjusted his monocle. "Your odds of winning are technically measurable.""Thanks for the vote of confidence," Mia muttered, then smiled faintly. "Still… could be fun, right?""Certainly. If you don't mind embarrassing yourself in front of your students and every tamer under twenty.""Wait… under twenty?" she blinked. "How old are the usual participants?"The woman next to her laughed kindly. "Most people start taming by sixteen. By the time they're your age—what, twenty-three?—they're already seasoned veterans or gone into specialization tracks. You'll probably be the only adult in the junior bracket."Mia stared into the void. "Oh no. I'm the old rookie."
Despite her rising horror, Mia couldn't stop thinking about the competition. That night, she sprawled on her rug with Bolt Nut Brawler flexing beside her and Professor Hootsworth marking essay drafts with a red quill. "Hear me out," she said. "What if I enter this tournament just for fun? I won't win. I know I won't win. But it could be good experience. Plus, the kids will love it. It'll show them that even the teacher's still learning, too.""Growth mindset!" Nut shouted, tossing a dumbbell in the air. It landed on a pillow. The pillow groaned. "And besides," Mia continued, "I've got two rare beasts. One's a literal professor. The other's a squirrel with the heart of a gladiator and the fashion sense of a disco ball. We've got character.""You've got something," Hootsworth sighed. "But if you insist on participating, you'll need to register at the guild in person.""Then that's tomorrow's plan."
The Windmere Beast Tamer Guild was a grand building shaped like a sprawling treehouse that had eaten a library. Vines wrapped around the carved wooden columns, and glowing sigils shimmered faintly across its archway. Inside, the air smelled of parchment, old beast fur, and hot cocoa. Mia walked through the front doors, nervously adjusting her coat as Nut hopped on her shoulder and waved at every person they passed. The front hall buzzed with activity—young tamers and their beasts lining up at various counters, chatting excitedly about their latest achievements or bragging about minor league rankings. Mia stepped into the registration line and immediately noticed something odd.
Everyone else in line was way younger than her.
One girl was bouncing on her heels while hugging a sentient cactus with sunglasses. Another teen boy practiced flashy summoning gestures in the mirror, while his tiger-striped lizard beast mimicked him with disturbing accuracy. A trio of high school-age tamers stood off to the side, snickering and comparing beast rankings on enchanted badges. The oldest one—maybe nineteen—glanced at Mia, blinked, then whispered something that made the others giggle.
Mia adjusted her bag, cleared her throat, and stared ahead like she totally belonged here. "Alright, I'm registering for the Novice Tamer Challenge," she told the receptionist, a harried young woman with four pens tucked behind one ear and a tiny frog clinging to her hair. The woman glanced up. "Name?""Mia Greaves.""Age?"Mia hesitated. "…Twenty-three."There was a long pause. The frog blinked. The receptionist blinked. Somewhere, someone dropped a potion bottle."Wow," the woman said finally. "You're brave.""Thank you?""That wasn't sarcasm.""…Thanks again."After filling out the form and getting her tamer badge verified, Mia stepped aside to wait for her heat assignment. One of the younger boys sidled up next to her, eyes wide. "Hey, are you like… somebody's mom?""What? No!" she sputtered. "I'm just… older. That's all.""Cool. My mom's older, too. But she can't summon lightning squirrels.""Good to know," she said. Nut winked at the kid.
Heat assignments were posted an hour later. Mia was placed in Bracket C—alongside eleven other first-time tamers, all visibly younger than her by at least five years. She read through the competition details with growing excitement. There would be three main rounds: an obstacle course for beast coordination, a skill showcase where beasts performed tricks or demonstrated special talents, and a mock battle judged not by raw power, but by creativity and control. It wasn't about who could summon the biggest beast—it was about how well you worked with what you had.
Mia grinned as she read. "We've got a shot, don't we?""You're creative," Hootsworth admitted. "Your beasts are rare. And you're only mildly clumsy. You could surprise them.""Let's make a training schedule!" Nut shouted. "Beast drills! Cardio routines! Lightning yoga!""Lightning yoga?""You stretch and scream at the same time!"Mia rolled her eyes but felt a warm buzz of excitement bubbling in her chest. This wasn't about winning—it was about showing up. Doing something for herself. For her students. For Lina, who had clearly dreamed of something like this but hadn't gotten the chance. It was Mia's dream now. And maybe, just maybe, she'd make something magical of it.
As they left the guild building, the sun dipped low over Windmere, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets. Beast tamers passed her on all sides—young, eager, shining with potential. Mia may have been older. She may have been starting late. But she had something most of them didn't. Real-life experience. Empathy. A talking owl. A squirrel with biceps. And a deep, stubborn resolve not to give up just because she was the odd one out.
The competition was in one week.
Mia Greaves—beast tamer, teacher, and accidental adult in a teen bracket—was ready to rumble.