Reaching the village, I go straight for my work and experimental area, eager to see whether Happy has managed to make any progress without my presence.

My discussion with Tarra ended up being both fruitful and frustrating. The herbalist hasn’t made as much progress as I’d like on a treatment for Lathani, but that was partly because she didn’t really understand where the root of the nunda’s issues lies. I thought she would have had more knowledge than she did since she was part of the whole thing with the shaman. It appears, however, that her role was strictly limited to those two draughts.

Since she was one of those party to Lathani’s indiscretion over Kalanthia’s weakness, I was able to fill in more of the pertinent details which I’ve discovered over the last few days. She’s promised to see if there are any ways of incorporating purple Energy Hearts into a treatment. At the same time, I’m going to help Lathani work on strengthening and retracing her Energy channels – hopefully tonight if I have time. We need to find a way that sticks properly and not only a quarter of the time. It’s always frustrating to have to redo work, doubly so if I have to redo it multiple times.

Outside my hut I find Happy pounding a chunk of glowing metal with the rough hammer I created in my early work with metal. My eyebrows move up my head in surprise. That’s more proactive than I’d thought he’d be. It’s good, I’m glad about it, but surprised nonetheless.

“How did you get the fire hot enough?” I ask him as he brings his hammer down again. Evidently he hadn’t realised I was there as he jumps, his hammer swing going wide. “Sorry,” I apologise though with a hint of juvenile amusement at startling someone.

It is no problem, Honoured Pathwalker Tamer,” he says.

“I told you – call me Markus. How did you get the fire hot enough? And what are you doing?”

I…I hope the Honoured Pathwalker does not mind me working while he was gone, Happy ventures tentatively. I gesture impatiently, like I’m swatting a fly.

“I mind more that you’re going back to being very formal around me,” I tell him with more than a hint of exasperation. “No, I told you I didn’t mind you experimenting while I was gone, so why would I be annoyed that you have?” At the question, he looks away from me politely as if he doesn’t want to answer it because he suspects I won’t like the answer. I don’t push – it’s probably tied up with his reason for being all formal again. “Anyway, I just want to know what you’ve been doing.”

Finally Happy looks at me properly, a hint of blue returning to his spikes. I suddenly wonder if another samuran said something to him – he was less hesitant around me when I was last here. It’s been a few days since then, but that shouldn’t have made him this tentative, should it?

I was unable to render the glowing rocks into the ‘metal’ liquid as you did, but by pumping hard with the…bellows? He waits for my agreement before continuing. I was able to make it glow enough for me to change its shape with this tool. I have been trying to make the same shapes as you did with the liquid metal. It was difficult at first, but I think I have been getting better. He sounds very tentative, the feelings he’s unconsciously pushing along the Bond telling me that he’s worried his efforts won’t be good enough for me in some way.

Without answering, since I don’t want to give him a glib response, I walk over closer to look at his attempts.

The first pieces which he almost reflexively moves to cover are definitely not great by any stretch of the imagination. Misshapen messes, really. However, the next attempts get steadily better and better. In fact, the most recent one, apart from the one he’s working on, looks like a proper spear-blade. There are a few places I can see immediately that he’s struck too hard, but it’s better than what I tried to forge before experimenting with the molten metal. Frankly, coming from someone who only learned about the possibility of metal weapons a week or so ago, his progress is impressive.

“Well done,” I tell him, letting my pride show through. “You’re really making good progress.”

You…you think so? he asks, sounding almost disbelieving.

“I do,” I affirm, pushing my sincerity down the Bond.

Huh. He doesn’t seem to know how to deal with that. I feel a sudden wave of sympathy for him – what has this village been doing to their Unevolved?

“Show me how you’ve been doing this,” I tell him. I sense that the piece of metal he was working on is starting to cool, so it needs to be put back into the fire. After all my experiments with different types and temperatures of fire, my ability to sense the relative temperatures of things around me has definitely improved. I’ve also got a better idea of approximately what temperature this metal needs to be to work it either as a solid or a liquid. And right now, this particular chunk definitely isn’t hot enough.

Tilting his chin up briefly, he returns to his task. I watch with approval as he realises his chunk of metal is no longer hot enough and places it back in the furnace among the burning charcoal. He then moves to the bellows, pumping them furiously.

Tarra said that Happy was one of the hatchlings she experimented on, attempting to increase their survival rates by bringing them to adulthood more quickly. I can’t say I approve of using untested potions on beings who are the equivalent of children.

I do, however, recognise that it’s hard to find any other sort of test subjects in this place. Other creatures might not have the same reactions or chances of reaching Tier two to begin with. Plus, the fact that samurans are sapient from when they’re young is a difference from most other creatures here, from what I can tell. Though, she could have at least asked for permission.

Again, it’s a bit uncomfortable thinking about this. I blithely benefitted from the advances in medicine and medical techniques without giving a thought to how they had been developed. How many have been killed or permanently hurt in the pursuit of advancement? And not only humans – animal rights activists have been protesting the use of animals in testing of medicine and beauty products for years. Just like those protesting against intensive farming techniques, they’d have far more grounds to protest if all the creatures had the possibility of becoming sapient like they do here.

But all of those musings are rather beside the point. This isn’t Earth and a lot of what I used to think and do on Earth is no longer appropriate or relevant. The point now is that Happy is apparently eleven years old, and at the age when more than the single samuran in his hatching who became Evolved should have reached that point. I’d like to see if there’s a reason for it.

Seeing that Happy is still busy getting the temperature right, I decide to indulge my curiosity. I open my status screen and allow it to fill my vision. Flicking over to the tab on which I can find the information about my Bound, I focus on pulling up the information about Happy specifically, otherwise I’ll be overwhelmed by the whole list.

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Name

Species

Bond Type

Max health

Max mana

Max stamina

Progress to next level

Life- span

Special abilities

Hurts-his-foot (Happy)

Unevolved Samuran

Dominate

750

80

370

99%

15

None

Interesting, I say to myself. Two things immediately jump out at me: his progress and his life-span. It looks like he’s only a step away from being able to Evolve, but I remember Fenrir taking a while to actually Evolve after he reached ninety-nine percent. Actually, if I remember correctly, so did Bastet. Not as long as Fenrir, but it still took longer than I expected for her to achieve that final percent.

I guess this is what Kalanthia’s been talking about – at Tier two there are certain blockages which can stop Evolution. In this case, perhaps it’s a result of the potion Tarra fed him as a hatchling. It could also be intentional, consciously or unconsciously.

His life-span is equally as interesting. When River first came to me, his life-span was thirty-four years, and he was three years old, making his natural life-span about thirty-seven years. Happy is eleven years old according to Tarra, meaning that he should have about twenty-six years left. Instead he has fifteen.

Is that because of a variation among samurans? It’s hard to know without knowing my other samurans’ current ages as well their life-span, but it’s something that’s caught my attention nonetheless. Because variation would make sense – there are some humans who manage to reach more than a hundred years old while others die long before then. Presumably the life-span in my status screen is related to natural body conditions rather than catching a disease or being killed.

However, what if it’s another symptom of the concoction Tarra used? Kalanthia talked about borrowing future potential for growth in the present when I first brought Lathani back. Is this what she was referring to? Somehow using future years to become more mature now?

And, even if my thoughts are right, is it something that is a problem for the use we intend of it? If the samurans are going to kill and eat the creatures they’re raising to adulthood as soon as they reach it, does it matter if their natural lives have been cut short by a potion?

I make a note on my – ever-expanding – list to find out the ages of the other Tier one samurans currently Bound to me so I can compare.

By this point, Happy has managed to get his metal hot enough to start to work on it again. He pulls it out with a couple of long, rough pieces of metal which he obviously made while I was out. I’m impressed once more that he’s thought of using a basic pair of tongs when he doesn’t even know what they are. He catches me looking at him, or perhaps senses the surprise down the Bond.

I did not wish to burn my claws and nothing else seemed to work.

“No, it’s great what you’ve done. I’m just surprised that you thought of it,” I admit. “Though not wanting to burn your claws is a good motivation, I suppose.” He swishes his tail in the equivalent of a nod and then turns back to the piece of metal. It’s curious – his focus has shifted almost entirely to the piece of glowing metal. The more his focus grows, the less self-conscious or aware of ‘manners’ he is. I’ve noticed it before, though not to this extent.

Watching, I see how he pounds the piece of metal with the rough hammer, sparks flying as he does so. Closing my eyes, I focus with my magic sight. I still can’t really see the magic within the metal, not to the extent I can see the magic in fire or earth, but I can sense something there. And more – I sense that something responding to Happy. It’s hard to detect, but it’s like an echo. A fraction of a second after the hammer comes slamming down on the metal, a…pulse returns out of it.

It reminds me of….something. I open my eyes frowning, returning to watching Happy. He pounds the metal in three strong blows, then lifts the hammer to his lipless mouth, tapping it against his jawbone thoughtfully before aiming his hammer onto another section of the metal.

Suddenly I remember what the sensation reminded me of. I remember putting a piece of metal in my mouth – I can’t remember what kind of metal – and feeling like it almost exploded on my tongue, a pulse of sensation expanding from the point of contact. That’s what these pulses feel like – a much, much lesser version of that.

Curious indeed.

When he finishes, he places the blade onto the floor. From where I’m standing, it looks like the best yet.

When I left this on the tree stump, it set light to the stump, he confesses, looking up at me. I nod slowly.

“That’s expected. Normally, we should quench the blade in a liquid, either water or oil.” I frown, digging at the knowledge I received from one of the stones back at the beginning of all of this. “I think that water makes the blade harder, but more brittle. But I’m not sure whether animal fat will work well enough, and we don’t have the time and resources to make vegetable oil.” Looking back up, I meet Happy’s eyes.

We can try them both, can we not? he asks, sounding hopeful. I grin at him.

“Sure, why not. I’ll add collecting fatty parts of animals and a container of water to the list of tasks for some of your friends to collect. Now, I have a question for you, and please don’t take offence at this or think that I’m accusing you of anything.” I pause until he’s swished his tail slowly to one side and then the other, his spikes showing more caution than I’d prefer. “Do you know why you haven’t Evolved yet?”

He steps back, his spikes flashing with surprise and then shame. I immediately feel guilty for asking the question, but still think that it was necessary.

I…not everyone in the village is capable of Evolving. The shame intensifies within his spikes. Perhaps I am not meant to….be more than I am.

I bite my lip as I feel the shamed despair come from his side of the Bond. I hope I can help him. I really do. And if I can’t help him, then I will change the attitudes of the village to the Unevolved. No one should feel that ashamed of something they cannot change.

“According to the information I receive through our Bond, you are right on the cusp of being able to Evolve,” I tell him honestly. His eyes widen in surprise, one of the few pieces of body language that our two species share. “I would like to take a look at your Energy channels to see whether I can find any reason for why you haven’t yet been able to take that final step.” His eyes widen further, and then he tilts his chin up almost as far as it will go.

Honoured Pathwalker…. If you can make me Evolve…. I will owe you everything that I am.

I chuckle awkwardly, no more comfortable with this declaration than I was with Catch’s all that time ago. And that’s a point – I still need to make some time to go through all the samurans in the village to check for defects like his.

Realising that I’ve allowed my thoughts to stray out of discomfort, I quickly return my focus to the present – anything else would be insulting to Happy.

“I can’t promise to be able to help you,” I say to my assistant as I did to Catch then. “I will try, but it’s possible that the reason is something beyond my capabilities.”

It is more hope than I have had for so many cycles, Happy answers fervently. What do you wish me to do, Honoured Pathwalker? No, Honoured Markus, he corrects himself while shooting a nervous glance at me. Obviously he’s trying to please me while fearing that he’s doing the opposite. I shoot him a sense of reassurance down the Bond.

“Right now, just take a seat. I’ll have a look at your channels and try to find out if there’s anything I can help you with immediately.”

He obeys immediately and I kneel down next to him. Using my tried and tested method of diving into my Bound’s internal channels, I immediately notice something.

Interesting. Many similarities to Lathani’s channels. I wonder if this will prove to be a pattern….