Under ordinary circumstances, using the Summoning Circle to heal injured Monsters was an option I reserved as a last resort.
Of course, these weren't exactly what you'd call ordinary circumstances.
From extensive trial and error – the same way I learned most everything about the way the Dungeon system worked – I'd discovered that living Monsters could be returned to the Summoning Circle and then re-Summoned. It was even possible to modify them between those steps, changing their Core Type or Rank, adjusting Attribute distribution, even altering their physical appearance if I wanted. It was "free" to do, in the sense that the Monster's Potential cost was refunded when it was un-Summoned.
As long as it was uninjured, that is.
An injured Monster was treated by the Summoning Circle the same way as a dead one – I only got half its initial Summoning cost back. For the more expensive Monsters, that was a not-insubstantial loss to take, although obviously still preferable to actually letting the Monster die and starting over with a new one at Level 1.
I hadn't actually had an opportunity to try using the technique on an injured Dungeon Heart before today. Maia tended to be pretty good at avoiding injuries in combat... aside from the one notable exception that we'd reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss, anyway, and in that particular case the option never came up.
Technically, there was no cost for Summoning a Dungeon Heart – aside from the Potential cost of creating a new one if it was destroyed, which doubled each time. Hopefully, that wouldn't come into play here, but if it did, I supposed it was better to find out now, while I had a substantial reserve of Potential in the bank.
Either way, it would be a learning experience for both of us.
"Ooooh, not like that," the woman I was carrying murmured, disrupting my mental calculus. "If you do that, I won't be able to get married..."
"Please, you've got to stop moving around," I said, trying my best to keep keep even pressure on the stab wounds as she twisted weakly from side to side. "You're going to make your injuries worse!"
"Nooo..."
Helplessly, I looked over to Maia for support. She simply interlaced her fingers – the shouriioku equivalent of a shrug.
In my arms, the former Hero Sharon Rinzler continued to ineffectually protest and struggle.
To be perfectly honest, I was... a little bit concerned by her behavior. The woman seemed like she wasn't all there, so to speak. Probably the blood loss was the big contributor to her current state, but the stress that came with experiencing combat – for the first time, or so I assumed, given her current Level and Experience – and then the unexpected betrayal that followed undoubtedly hadn't helped matters. Whatever the exact cause, however, it made me worry that she might not have understood what she was doing when she accepted the Heart Bond offer.
And where would that leave us, if she came back to her senses later and decided that she wasn't interested? I was quite sure that the system didn't offer trial periods or refunds.
"Look, uh, Miss Rinzler –"
"Professor," she corrected, the words seemingly to be a reflexive response. After a beat, she blinked owlishly and added, "...but you can call me Sharon."
"Err, alright. Sure. Sharon, I think you're in shock. I need you to try to focus, okay?"
"Mmhmm."
I'd finally arrived at the Summoning Circle, and carefully set her down on the wood tiles at the edge of the black metal ring in the floor. Having done so, I wasn't quite sure what to do next.
Her condition didn't seem to have deteriorated, at least, but it hadn't improved, either. Even though she'd been reclassified, I didn't want to delay so long that she died on us. Still...
Just rolling her in without an explanation was obviously the wrong choice – the woman didn't have any idea what was going on, and suddenly losing her body with no explanation would be incredibly traumatic. I remembered my own awakening after reclassification well enough, and I'd never want to put someone else through that kind of experience. But even for someone who was entirely alert and aware, I wasn't sure exactly how to spell out the situation in a concise manner.
Still crouched beside Sharon, I glanced up at Maia, hoping that she had something to add here. Apparently noting my hesitation, and understanding the reason for it, she raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Perhaps I could take over this one's orientation," she offered neutrally, "if you will permit it."
"That'd be great!" I cleared my throat, slightly embarrassed by how relieved I'd sounded, and attempted to continue in a more normal tone. "Yes, Maia. That would be... for the best, I believe. Please do so."
I stood, putting a hand on Maia's shoulder as we traded places. "She's a human," I reminded her, speaking softly enough that I didn't think Sharon would be able to hear. "You remember all that stuff we discussed about human culture and sensibilities, right? Make sure you, uh, ease her into all this."
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"I will not fail you."
"...great." I turned my attention back to the prone form of the former human Hero. "Sharon, this is Maia, my..."
"Wife," Maia helpfully supplied in a stage whisper.
"...wife," I agreed, "and partner. She's going to take care of you while I get everything ready to heal you up."
Maia stepped into her view and gave her a shallow bow – barely more than a nod of her chin, really.
"Eep," Sharon said.
Belatedly, it occurred to me that a bit of forewarning might have been beneficial, considering before today Sharon had almost certainly never seen anything like the Ayura Warrior form that Maia was currently wearing.
Whoops.
But otherwise, it seemed that she had everything well under control. Giving Maia a final thumbs-up, I released Avatar control, allowing the Human-form Monster I'd been controlling to slump into idleness.
It wasn't that I was running away from a situation I had no idea how to handle. That would be absurd. The next steps would be a lot quicker and easier to perform, I knew, if I was back in my incorporeal form, and had full access to all the Dungeon's various functions. Yes, that was the reason I'd foisted her off on Maia, and only that.
There was the usual brief sense of discontinuity as my perspective expanded.
This time, it was accompanied by the sudden absence of pain. I had been too distracted to pay much heed to it, but the [Lightning Bolt] my Avatar body absorbed during the earlier Dungeon run must have done more damage than I thought – if I'd been lower Level, or still using the older iteration of my personal Monster design with a lower Resilience Attribute, it most likely would have killed me outright. Not that laying on the ground paralyzed and twitching involuntarily was much of an improvement, under most combat conditions, I supposed.
Well, any fight you can walk away from, or so the saying goes.
Panning my view back to the Dungeon Heart room, I activated the Summoning Circle and began setting it up. Pulses of eldritch light flashed through the intricately-wrought metal ring as it came to life, thin streams coming together in the open center to form a glowing pool that cast the walls in wavering green shades.
It was an impressive visual, no matter how many times I watched it.
I realized that I was stalling.
"...the things Damien can do to your body," Maia was saying in a matter-of-fact tone as I returned my attention to their location, "are beyond your imagination, yet you will come to appreciate them – much as I did. In time, you may even find it difficult to recall how you ever went without them."
"I see," Sharon replied in a small voice.
"You must prepare yourself –"
"Yes?"
She glanced up at the ceiling with an innocent expression.
"Doing what?" she asked unconvincingly.
I rolled my metaphorical eyes, feeling quite confident that she knew exactly what she was doing. Nothing to be done for it now, though. My attention turned to our newest Dungeon Heart.
Then, without waiting for a reply – we'd already delayed this far too long – I focused my thoughts on Maia again.
She did so. The body slipped soundlessly into the circle of light.
An awkward pause followed as (presumably) Sharon adjusted to the transition from inhabiting a physical body to being a... spirit, or whatever you wanted to call this intangible form. Remembering how disorienting the experience had been for me, I resisted the temptation to interrupt or hurry her along.
Finally, she spoke up.
<...it's complicated,> I finished lamely.
<...the way you said that suggests that there's another option.>
If I'd been in my physical body, I would have grinned. I hoped that some of my good-natured amusement carried over the telepathic link we were sharing.