Whatever this thing is, it seems as benign as the inferno was threatening. After hopping on my nose for a little, it then moves to explore my face, touching everything with feather-light almost-hot strokes. Its form is ever-shifting, sometimes a candle flame without the candle, sometimes a ball, sometimes something that looks more like a child’s drawing of the sun or a virus with spikes of flame coming out of the centre.

When it finally bounces back into the air, curiosity and expectation emanating from it, I lift my hand to rub at my face – its exploration tickled but I didn’t want to interrupt it while it was busy. I still don’t know what on earth it is. Apart from something made of fire – that’s obvious. A fire spirit? Is it possible?

It’s harder to open my eyes after closing them than I thought it would be. I’m exhausted. My mind has been put through the wringer; my soul has been worked harder than it ever has before. And yes, I can now identify the difference between my mind and my soul when it comes to exhaustion.

My body actually isn’t too bad – I’ve done a fair bit of walking, but nothing compared to normal daily labour in this world. Most of the pain comes from when I pulled almost all the health out of my own body to transform into mana to feed…whatever this is. My health points have already started replenishing themselves, but I quickly transform some of my faster-replenishing mana into health to replace it. I wince as I do so: my internal channels feel raw and…different, in some way.

Something shifts nearby and I feel alarm spike within me. It’s followed by determination and protectiveness. From the ball of fire, I realise after a moment. Heat suddenly washes over me, like the sun has just come out, but only on one side.

Forcing myself to sit up, I quickly take in the scene. Bastet is halted, one paw raised, her eyes narrowed, the feather-fur of her hackles raised. Before her eyes bobs the ball of fire. It is back in that spiky ball form, and this time it seems to actually be releasing heat. From the slight pain coming down the link from Bastet, I realise that the heat feels a lot worse for her than for me.

“Stop it!” I croak, then cough. Both turn to look at me. Well, Bastet does, and somehow I sense that the spiky ball’s attention has settled back on me. “She’s a friend,” I tell the ball, sending it a sense of peace and comfort, hoping that my impression of the situation is correct. I felt alarm and protectiveness from it when Bastet approached yet it had been comfortable while bobbing above my head and exploring my face. I can only conclude that it thinks it’s defending me, since it appears possible that a ball of fire can think at all.

Fortunately, it seems that I was right. The heat abruptly fades, like a veil has been dropped between the ball and the world around it. It flies back to me, bobbing a little next to my head, caution and fierce vigilance rippling out from it.

We don’t have a Bond, not the way I have with my Bound, Tamed or Dominated. But we are connected in some way. The nagging sense of notifications indicates that probably some of the answers are waiting for me to read them. However, first I need to make sure everyone is OK.

Sending a tendril of Flesh-Shaping magic to my throat, I heal the scorched and desiccated layers of my trachea. That should help me to speak without it feeling like I’m rubbing sandpaper through my voice-box every time. I spare a little more to heal and revitalise the cracked and broken skin on my lips too: even if it’s not very painful, it’s still annoying.

“How are you all?” I ask Bastet urgently, my eyes sweeping over her. She has blood on her face, like tears tracking down from her eyes. Concern and caution are intermingled in her body language and Bond.

We are…able to fight, she says in response, though I sense that a whole wealth of meaning lies behind her words. Are you well? You felt so distant. Our Bond felt held by a single claw, tenuous and breakable.

I…don’t remember everything, I realise. There’s a period of time which is filled only with the crackling and roar of the forest fire. It’s almost like that dream I remember having – the one with the woman who spoke to me with the sounds of a fire, yet I couldn’t understand a word. That’s what my memories are to me now.

“I don’t remember,” I tell her, a little distantly. Then my eyes focus on her. “Why are you bloody? Were you attacked?” It seems crazy to think that something might have attacked her in the middle of an ash field still smouldering from the fire which had passed through it, but everything’s possible.

No. You needed mana; we all gave you mana. You needed more; we gave you everything we had. It suddenly dawns on me exactly what happened. Her words spark some sort of familiarity, the sense of needing more, more, more, and drawing it from my Bonds without thinking about what that might mean for my Bound.

With a sudden sense of fear, I open my Bound tab and scan through all the entries, noting each that I pass. Finally, after a few frantic moments, I relax. Everyone is fine.

I apparently only drew from the Bound here present: River and his band were evidently too far for me to draw from, as were the members of Fenir’s group back at the campsite and the kiinas’ group at the cave. Marty, as the smallest and one with the lowest health points, is the worst off, but even she is at more than half health. Apparently being able to draw from nine Bound meant that I didn’t take too much from any of them.

Seeing Joy, Lee, Iandee, Murmur, and Peace still on my list actually answers another concern I’d had at Bastet’s words. She’d mentioned that for a moment, the Bond had felt very weak, very fragile. I was concerned that some of my newest samuran Bound might have taken advantage of the opportunity to break their Bond. Apparently they didn’t. I’ll have to find out later if that’s because they didn’t want to or didn’t realise they could.

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I summon all my Bound present to come closer and, pushing myself to my feet, I start healing each of them. I’m exhausted, at my utter limit, and every use of my magic feels like I’m an almost-finished tube of toothpaste being forced to squeeze out just a little bit more.

But I keep going until each of my Bound is healed: I owe that much to them. And then once they’re healed, I thank them deeply for their support. I don’t remember exactly what happened in that last period of the inferno; what I do know is that I would have been lost without them. Every one of them has stood beside me and given everything I asked for. Not to thank them for that would be an insult.

After healing Murmur, the last on my list since he has the largest health pool and therefore suffered the least from my draw, I collapse to the ground, utterly spent. Trying to force myself back to my feet, I can only curse weakly as I am unable to do more than roll over.

You must rest, Bastet chides me. She has been watching with more than a little disapproval as I pushed myself to heal everyone. I feel the silent ‘I told you so,’ from her – she did. But I was determined to do it. Pick him up, I hear her say, confusing me. I can’t pick myself up; how can I pick anyone else up?

Then I realise that my fuzzy mind had interpreted the instruction incorrectly. A shadow falls over me a moment before I feel things wiggle their way underneath me like snakes. I’m lifted into the air before my mind can catch up with what’s happening.

The world rights itself a moment later – well, sort of. I realise that I’ve been hoisted over one of the samuran’s shoulders like a bag of potatoes and am being carried. Catching sight of Iandee, I realise that I must be over Murmur’s shoulders since I don’t think that Catch would be able to carry my weight this easily. A flash of light accompanied by a feeling of concern and question makes me realise that the ball of fire is still bobbing near my head.

I send it a sense of reassurance, or try to, anyway. Maybe it works; maybe it doesn’t. Either way, I can’t care any more about it, or about the undignified way in which I’m being toted around. My eyes unable to stay open any longer, I slide into exhausted sleep.

*****

When I wake, I’m lying on my back again and I’m not moving. I blink at the ceiling, the lattice-work of dark and light taking a moment to resolve itself. It’s a few moments before I realise where I am: I’m back at the campsite near the pool of water, staring up at the roof of the shelter the hunting band of samurans made for our group last night.

Was it only last night? It feels much longer ago than that.

I feel better. I don’t know how long I’ve slept for, but it has to have been a good while because I’m ravenous. Sitting up, I realise that it’s actually night time: the light coming through the roof must be moonlight rather than sunlight. And of course there’s also light from the ball of fire which is still bobbing gently above my head.

Definitely need to work out what you are, I say to myself, deciding not to speak out loud in deference to the number of creatures spread around me who are currently sleeping. Looking around carefully, I realise how much smaller our group is now that River and his party have left: there’s enough room for everyone in the shelter to have space to spare, though the three samurans are curled up near each other anyway.

I don’t see Trinity’s bulk, nor Shakira’s – they must be outside. Otherwise, almost all the others seem to be present. Wolverine isn’t, nor is Honey – they’re probably on guard.

Fenrir is near me, pressed against my leg. Bastet is just above where my head was. Though she wasn’t touching me, from the gap left behind now I’ve moved, her nose must have been almost doing it on one side, her tail on the other. One of her eyes is open and gazing at me.

Seeing that I’ve noticed her wakefulness, she shifts, lifting her head and eyeing me questioningly.

I’m going outside to check my notifications, I tell her, shifting quietly to a standing position. I want to eat, drink, and check the messages waiting for me without disturbing everyone else.

I will join you, she announces, pushing herself to her feet as well.

You don’t have to, I protest, but not too strongly: it would be nice to have the company.

I will join you, she repeats, fixing me with a look that warns me not to argue.

Fine then, mother, I tell her with mock anger, but accompany the message with a sense of affection that belies the tone of my words.

We step carefully out of the shelter, avoiding the paws, tails, heads, and other assorted body parts which threaten to trip us. Or cause someone to bury their teeth or claws in our flesh out of a mistaken belief that they were being attacked.

Settling by the pool, I pull out some thick stew and ‘bread’. Tearing into it, I wash it down with pre-boiled water: even if I might be willing to drink directly from the stream, I’m not drinking from this pool, especially not after we’ve been camping next to it for a couple of days.

I eat about double what I normally would, feeling the energy rush through my body. Touching the automatic sense of my own body that I gain from having such an advanced Flesh-Shaping Skill, I realise that the food and liquid I’m pouring into myself is being broken down even faster than normal, the nutrients being delivered to my desperate cells by magic-aided bodily systems. Whether this is an effect of Flesh-Shaping or Constitution, I don’t know, but it’s certainly intriguing: maybe something for later exploration.

It takes a bit of time, but finally I feel like I’m back in a good condition. Physically, that is: my mind still feels tired, like the sleep wasn’t long enough, and my soul feels over-strained. I don’t sense that there’s anything exactly wrong with it: it’s just like a muscle which has been overused – time and rest is what’s needed.

I know I need to deal with the forest: it’s surrendered, but I didn’t see any sign of a new entry on my Bound list, so I don’t think anything ‘official’ has happened. But I can spare the time I need to deal with my notifications.

Worst comes to worst, I just have to control another inferno. But hopefully the fact that I controlled the first one will be enough motivation for the forest not to renege on its original capitulation.

But for now, I’m going to check out the messages which are waiting for me.