The word hung in my mind, poised overhead like an executioner's ax. I knew I had not imagined it, but a part of me seized upon that idea. It was easier than accepting the far more disconcerting truth.

Some magical creatures gained the ability to communicate in a manner. Dragons, beyond a particular stage in their lifecycle, gained the ability to speak both verbally and telepathically. Legends claimed phoenixes could often do the same, though they tended to avoid humans. One Archmagus had written of an encounter with an oceanic monster who could discuss the intricacies of philosophy, and a few smattering accounts spoke of other beasts who could transmit images and impressions in a strange, almost instinctive form of speech.

Yet all of these shared a few commonalities. They were rare beasts of a venerated age and had exceptional mana density within their flesh. All were powerful creatures of legend, renowned far and wide by all.

Cat was none of those things. He was a house cat. Large, yes, and magical but unremarkable on his face. I could not say how old he was, but he certainly appeared young, and the Aether within his flesh was far from potent enough to pose a threat.

Yet even as I thought this, a tendril brushed against my mind. Emotions flowed through the nascent connection between us, rising to the forefront of my thoughts even as I tried to push them aside.

Bond.

This time, his "words" held none of the same curiosity or hesitation I had felt before. Instead, they carried steel-clad resolve as if it was a proclamation of fact rather than a request.

I forced myself to consider it. My core was empty, but Cat's body had enough Aether to finish the job. I would need to pull it from his flesh and blood, which a bond should let me do without issue, but it was dangerous. There was a chance I would injure or even kill him if I made a mistake. But either way, I should be able to repair my lingering injuries and live.

And all it would cost was a permanent bond with a magical creature.

There might be ways to break a familiar bond, but I knew none of them. I had to assume they were ineffable, and that, beyond all else, gave me pause. Well, besides Cat's goals, at least.

I had always assumed Cat was a weak magical creature, too unintelligent to have true ambitions or desires all his own. Yet there were flaws in that reasoning. He came and went, seemingly vanishing whenever I so much as glanced away from him. He wielded strange magical abilities, one I could feel but never identify. And he had survived an explosion that would have killed me had I not wrapped myself in multiple layers of magical protection.

Did I want this? Did I want to bind myself to an uncertain ally, opening myself up to the risk? I might survive without his aid with a bit of luck. Maybe...

I shook my head, forcing back the creeping darkness on the edge of my vision. My body felt weak and cold, my eyelids heavy, and my will frayed at the seams. I had lost too much blood, and if I passed out, I might never wake back up.

There was no other choice. I tried to think of one, but I was out of metaphorical cards to play. So, I steeled myself, met Cat's eyes, and nodded once.

"Bond."

Satisfaction burned in his eyes, and I felt the emotion reverberate through the strange tether between us. Cat padded closer, and I sensed Aether rising from his body in thin, faint wisps.

Just a hair of this energy traveled towards me, seeming to follow the connection between us. I recoiled, my Aether rising against my will to push back the unfamiliar mana, and Cat winced. His eyes narrowed, and frustration mixed with pain flowed into my thoughts.

No. Bond.

"Right, bond," I repeated as I pushed my mind inward. Forcibly lowering my innate magical defenses was like trying to stop my breathing. It took nearly a minute, time I did not have, but I managed it. The instant I had pulled that shield away, I nodded.

The same tendrils of unfamiliar Aether slipped past my guard and into my body. I felt as they sunk through flesh, feather-soft as they drifted through my channels and into my core.

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I had gathered the tiniest thimble of Aether in the last few minutes, barely enough to sustain even a few seconds of healing. It was this mana that had stymied Cat, and it once more rose to block him. I gritted my teeth and reached out, clasping the mana and crushing it down, but even as I did so, I felt the feline "speak" again.

Join.

The tendrils reached out towards that faint cloud, and I felt the calling in that gesture. I could not understand it consciously, but there was something there, something deeper, that resonated in my thoughts. Slowly, I pulled a thin line of my own Aether out, drawing it towards Cat's mana.

I could sense the moment the two tendrils of unfamiliar Aether brushed one another. A heartbeat passed. Then two. I felt the bond seem to strengthen just a little, and with it came a stronger sense of Cat's thoughts and motions. It was barely more than what I had already sensed. Was this what—

The Aetheric tether pulsed, and I felt it pull mana from me in a rush. That energy joined with Cat's, and the two entwined with one another. In seconds, the thin thread that had joined us transformed into a thick rope of pure, pulsing magical energy. The vision in my mind's eye darkened as unconsciousness threatened to claim me, and I almost succumbed as I felt my core once more empty.

A moment later, Aether surged into me. It was a flood of power, not beyond anything I had sensed before but substantial nonetheless. With that energy came a stronger sense of emotions and a deep, rumbling voice filled with cool determination.

Heal. Now.

I did not second-guess the words. Instead, I called on this new energy and pushed it into my wound even as I pulled the blade in my side out of my body. Then, I set all distractions out of my thoughts and focused inward. The world vanished, save for the familiar bond, my Aether, and the task before me.

If I had only Cat's energy to call on for the whole process, he would have died. His body contained more mana than I expected but far less than my core held at its fullest. At best, he would have fallen into a coma not dissimilar to the one that had almost claimed his life when I first met the beast.

But I did not need quite so much energy. All I needed to do was escape death just long enough to replenish my reserves and evade any pursuers.

I guided the Aether with what was left of my will, trying to control the process. Some of it fled my control, but I held on to enough. I felt the wound shrink and seal with a deeply unpleasant itch. The stream of blood faded to a trickle before stopping, and the burning agony became an unpleasant, persistent, but manageable aching.

Finally, I let the lingering dregs of mana slip from my control and opened my eyes. Cat was still standing nearby, but he looked decidedly weaker. His eyes did not glow as brightly in the night's gloom, his mana signature felt diminished, and he almost wobbled as he took a few steps closer.

I tried to send feelings of gratitude through our bond. While I had no idea how it felt as if I should be able to just—

No debt. Partner.

Ah, so I was right. How fascinating.

I itched to explore the bond, writing down everything I noticed in these first crucial minutes, but there was no time. The raiders would be fools not to search the nearby coastline for survivors, and my only hope to survive was to keep moving. I had to get as far away from here as possible, as fast as I could manage.

It took almost a minute to push myself to my feet and circle the tree to look at the coastline. The ocean remained a near-imperceptible mass of dark waters at night, broken up only by a single, flickering spot of light where a ship smoldered, and dozens of people had died. People I had traveled with for weeks.

A flash of shame ran through me as I realized I did not know any of their names, save two of them. On some level, I had thought them...I was unsure. Important, maybe? I did not like the thought, but it sounded closest to the truth.

I allowed myself a few seconds to consider it—and to catch my breath. Then, I turned and stumbled away, pushing my guilt and shame out of my thoughts as I moved further east.

Time passed as I pushed on, moving as fast as I could without aggravating my wounds. My healing was imperfect, just enough to stave off infection or exsanguination, but far from complete. I would need to repair more when I stopped, but I needed to keep walking. The more distance between me and the coastline, the larger the area any pursuers had to search.

I made it two hours before I had to stop for the evening at the first patch of anything resembling shelter. It was nothing more than a few trees and bushes, but it was the closest to cover I had found.

It took me two castings of Force Step, using the mana I had gathered to launch myself up to the lowest boughs. I pulled myself into the branches, bracing myself against the trunk as I clutched at my side. Hot blood trickled through my fingers, and a quick examination found that I had re-opened my wound.

It took me a few minutes to seal it using my replenished core, but I knew I could not make it a habit. If Lysandra was right, even this simple healing had taken weeks of my life, if not months. Beyond that, my limbs and torso looked slimmer and my face narrower as my body ate itself, trying to cope with rapid magical regeneration.

And therein lay the next problem.

A healthy person could live two to three days without fresh water and much longer without food. But I was not healthy. I was half-dead, low on blood, and stuck in the wilderness. I had no spare clothes, no supplies, and my only "weapon" was a shielding vambrace. Well, that and a dagger.

I had stuck the dagger into my belt, putting it out of my mind in favor of my retreat, but now felt as good a time as any to examine it. Unfortunately, what I found confirmed my worst fears.

Cold iron.

I had assumed as much, but it still chilled my blood. Raiders and pirates were just that. They were opportunists. Vultures. Skilled to an extent but hardly a match for a mage. I doubted any of them could exchange more than three blows with me. But the one I had fought was different. They were more than my equal with a blade. Fast. Without hesitation.

But the cold iron weapon was the giveaway. The alloy was difficult to produce, and crafting with it demanded surpassing skills. You could not work it using magical means, and even a minor mistake might ruin its anti-magical properties.

Anyone who carried such a blade did so for one reason and one reason only. They wanted to kill a mage.

No. They wanted to kill me.

But why? Had one of Lord Sinnett's students assumed I had killed the man? Had they taken my departure as a sign of guilt? Or was it Master Lysandra? Maybe...

My mind felt sluggish, and I knew I could not puzzle out what had happened. I needed to steal as much sleep as I could before whatever assassins sent after me came to finish the job.

When I finally allowed myself to relax, unconsciousness claimed me in just seconds.