The new lizard-man is standing next to a tree, longingly looking at the mix of creatures clustered around the carcasses, his nostrils flaring as they catch the scent of the food. Those surrounding the bodies are already devouring the available meat – a flock of locusts wouldn’t have any more effect on a field of crops than these ravenous creatures seem capable of.

“We’re really going to have to go hunting,” I murmur to myself. And although I have the vague idea that not all the Bonds I have are permanent or even of particularly long duration, feeding them for as long as they are Bound to me is going to be a challenge. Then again, more mouths hopefully mean more bodies to actually do the hunting in the first place.

Putting that issue to the back of my mind, I walk over to Catches-leaves. Speaking of short Bonds, his definitely is – he’s only offered me seven days, but has offered to obey me in everything within those days, as long as it does not put him up against his village.

Not remembering exactly what my Inspect Fauna told me about him, I do it again, from a few paces away.

Samuran: Catches-leaves

Tier 1 Beast (unevolved)

Special abilities: Stealth

Health: 720u

Mana:110u

Minimum Willpower recommended to Dominate without other impacting factors: 25 (10)

Bound (Tame - 7 days) of Markus Luke Wolfe. Most commonly used weapon is a club, though this Beast is capable of using claws and teeth when required. Social Beast with strong capacity to form bonds.

Close message? Y/N

Samuran, eh? That’s different from what River’s information had said. Is it because of the different Bond? Because I used Dominate with River, did that somehow allow me to ‘change’ his species to the name I was using? And it’s a different name from what Kalanthia uses too, which sort of answers that question too.

It’s interesting that Catches-leaves already apparently has some sort of special ability – stealth. So it is possible to have abilities at Tier one? And I guess we have some of the answer as to how he’s survived this long – he’s a sneaky little bastard, apparently.

He’s also got lower health but higher mana than River. The Willpower required to Dominate is the same, though, and easily manageable. If I go down that route, anyway. Is the ten in brackets a reflection of his current state? I guess it must be – I suppose it makes sense considering we’re already Bonded and he’s literally starving.

Otherwise, the description at the end is much the same, though apparently Catches-leaves is more prone to using a club than a spear. I suppose it makes sense – he seems to be much lower on the hierarchy ladder than River, so I guess a Path-walker wouldn’t make him tools to use. A club is much more easily found in nature, though he could make his own spear, if he chose.

However, those are thoughts for later, if at all given how short the Bond is. Closing the message, I start moving closer to Catches-leaves again. He startles as I crack a twig near him, flinching into a crouch, his mouth opens slightly to bare his teeth.

“It’s OK,” I say to him, noting his gaze snapping towards me. I frown as I look at his eyes. Is it just me or are they unfocussed? “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Catches-leaves pushes himself back up to stand, his body language still wary, his crest roiling with orange and red. I wait for him to say something, but he remains silent.

“Alright then,” I say softly to myself, then clear my throat awkwardly. “River…Runs-with-the-River, that is, said that you’re not willing to eat.”

Not permitted, he replies, the mental communication far more closed-off than River’s has ever been. Probably because after touching souls in the Battle of Wills, holding emotion back seems a little pointless.

“It is permitted,” I argue, wondering how he will respond. “That’s why the carcasses are out there.”

Not permitted. The Pathwalkers would be angry. This time, a little emotion slips through Catches-leaves’ tight control. I’m briefly hit by a moment of bone-deep hunger and desperation to eat. It seems like River’s assessment of the situation has been spot-on so far. Not that I’d expect any different in this case.

“But we’re currently in a Bond,” I point out. “And I say it’s fine.” Catches-leaves looks away.

Temporary Bond, he replies after a moment.

“Only because you wanted it to be,” I remind him. If I had to guess, based on River’s words just now, the short duration is because he doesn’t think he can last much longer than that without food. Frankly, I’m not sure whether he can even last that long, but I guess he knows his own limits better than I do. “I would be willing to offer a longer-term Bond; then you could eat as much as you like.” I gesture at River. “Does he look half-starved to you?”

Another bit of emotion slips through the blockage, an instant of longing. Then it’s shut away like it never existed. Catches-leaves slumps and turns back to me.

The Pathwalkers hunt you. You are prey. Runs-with-the-River is already doomed; I do not wish to be included. I agreed to a temporary Bond only in gratitude for freeing me. For what little my service might be worth. I’m not sure I’m meant to hear the last – it’s quiet and even the changing colour of his spikes is subtle.

“The Pathwalkers will be the ones who regret facing me at the end of this,” I tell him, meaning every word of it. The more I’ve learned about the way they run things, the more I want to interfere. Even if I didn’t have to deal with the samurans’ village to keep them safe from Kalanthia, I’d probably end up doing so anyway. He doesn’t look convinced, though.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

He glances at me again, and once more I frown. I’m sure of it – his eyes aren’t focussing on me.

I have seen no proof that you have the might to face even one of our Pathwalkers, he tells me earnestly, but I’m only half-listening.

“Catches-leaves, how far can you see?” I ask abruptly. The lizard-man hesitates.

My…I can see. Catches-leaves replies, but with so much defensiveness that I become almost convinced of what I’d already suspected. Moving slowly, I bring my hand up to almost cover his eyes.

“I’m going to move my hand away. Tell me when it starts getting blurry or you can’t see it anymore.”

As you wish, he consents reluctantly. As I’d said, I start moving. I’m barely past the end of his snout when he interrupts me. It is blurry.

“OK, well done,” I tell him. “Now I’m going to keep moving. Tell me when you cannot identify what the object is at all.” I keep moving slowly but steadily further away.

I cannot see it anymore, Catches-leaves says when I’m only three paces away from him. He sounds miserable. I’m not surprised. For him, no doubt this is what he would consider to be his greatest weakness. If the Pathwalkers knew about it, would they turn him out automatically? Or would they allow him to continue living in the village as long as he continues providing?

Though how he’s able to hunt – or survive – in the forest when he would probably be considered legally blind, I don’t know. Maybe that’s how he got an ability while still Unevolved – he had to learn it to survive. I’m abruptly filled with admiration: I know how daunting it felt to consider life with only one eye before – and that was with good vision in that eye. To live for over two years in this dangerous environment with such limited sight is something else.

However, thinking about my own eyes brings up another possibility. I turn and beckon my other lizard-kin Bound.

“River, come over here, would you?” The lizard-man comes easily at my call, stopping just short of me and eyeing Catches-leaves quizzically.

Master, I thought you were going to use Dominate on him? he asks, and I sense that it’s a private communication between us.

I never said I would – I wanted to get more of an idea of the situation. River’s tail shifts restlessly, clearly not pleased. But that’s not why I called him over.

“Catches-leaves has very weak eyesight,” I say bluntly. The samuran in question stiffens as I reveal his weakness so easily, even as River stills. “I’d like to compare your eyes, see if I can fix his.” For a moment, it’s almost like the world holds its breath. Then it turns out that it’s not the world; it’s just Catches-leaves doing that.

You think you could help me? he asks hesitantly, letting out an explosive breath. It’s almost like he fears that even voicing – well, his version of it – the possibility might mean that it doesn’t work.

“It’s possible,” I tell him, “though not guaranteed.” I don’t want to raise his hopes too much: I don’t even know what the issue is. But…I’m actually pretty confident. I healed my own eye in my first days in this world. Since then, my Skill has undergone a massive change, and is now capable of regenerating organs, repairing and creating flesh, and mimicking other areas of flesh. Heck, I’ve already healed an eye when Fenrir’s was damaged in sparring. I wouldn’t be confident in doing this without the template of River’s healthy eyes, but with it?

Of course, it’s possible that it isn’t an issue with the eyes at all; I’m not sure I’m so confident about healing brain-damage, so there is a chance it won’t work. But I won’t know that until I’ve had a look.

“Are you willing to let me try?” I ask him. “Knowing that there’s no guarantee it will improve anything?” Catches-leaves breathes in and then out shakily.

Even the possibility that it might work is…more than I’ve had ever since the herbalist said it was incurable. Please. Go ahead.

“Alright.” I consider the situation for a moment. “Let’s sit down,” I suggest, then match action to words, sitting cross-legged on the ground. It’s not the most comfortable place, but I reckon that I’m going to need my full concentration for this. Sitting down means that I don’t have to pay attention to staying balanced on my feet. Plus, I should be able to use at least Light Meditation to keep my mana regeneration up, if not Medium Meditation since I won’t be moving.

The two samurans haven’t moved, shifting uneasily. I look up at them, raising my eyebrows quizzically.

“What’s the issue?”

It’s hard for us to stand again, master, River reminds me after a moment of hesitation. We are vulnerable here.

“That’s a good point,” I reply slowly. “But the sooner we can help Catches-leaves – if we can at all – the better. And I honestly think you should sit down,” I say directly to the lizard-man in question. “It’s likely to be painful, since I don’t really want to mess around with your nerves. It may also be disorientating if it works. River, you can just crouch if you prefer. I need to be able to touch you, and preferably on your head, but you don’t need to sit.”

River nods and quickly shifts into a crouch, bowing his head so I can reach it. After a moment more of hesitation, Catches-leaves sinks to the ground, shifting awkwardly into a sitting kneel. Good enough.

He’s twitchy but doesn’t flinch away when I touch his own head, instead leaning closer so I don’t have to stretch to touch the two of them. Closing my eyes, I pull on Medium Meditation to help calm my mind and increase my mana regeneration. Then, I sink my mind into my Bound.

I’ve made good progress with my Flesh-Shaping recently, so sinking my mind into both samurans at the same time is difficult, but not impossible. With my hands on their heads, I don’t have to travel far to compare their eye structures. Relief fills me when I realise that, indeed, there are significant differences between the two of them. Eyes, I have a chance of mending. Brains, probably not for now. Fortunately, although there are differences between their brains, they are only slight, surely not enough to account for the vast gulf between their abilities to see.

Catches-leaves’ eyeballs are the wrong shape, and the lens inside seems to be completely malformed. Frankly, it’s a bit surprising that he can see at all. I’m still amazed that he’s managed to survive: from what I’ve gathered from River, their kind are almost as sight-reliant as humans are. River’s sense of smell and hearing are better than mine, but not significantly. So to have been deprived of his sight….

Well, hopefully no longer.

I hear the pained breaths and clicks that Catches-leaves lets out as I start reforming his eyeballs, using River’s own as a template. It’s surprisingly simple. I almost act like a 3D printer-photocopier: I ‘scan’ River’s right eyeball, then reshape the flesh of Catches-leaves’ right eyeball to match.

I have to change the size a little: Catches-leaves’ skull is just a touch smaller than River’s – because he’s younger? Or just because he’s smaller naturally? When I make that change, I have to make sure I reflect it as I reform the connection between the eye and the optic nerve leading to the brain.

That part in particular uses up a whole chunk of mental and magical energy: I know just how important it is that it’s correctly connected.

When I think the first eye is done, I check again and then once more, just to make sure I haven’t made any mistakes. Then, pulling out of my trance, I let my hands drop and open my eyes.

You’re done? Catches-leaves asks. Even his mental voice is trembling like he can’t bear to know the answer, can’t bear to find out that his hope has been dashed.

“I’ve done your right eye,” I tell him. He still keeps his eyes shut.

You’re not going to…? He sounds so disappointed – it practically breaks my heart.

“If this has worked, I will,” I tell him quickly. “But I don’t want to do both eyes and then find out that I’ve accidentally made it worse.” I feel Catches-leaves’ trepidation at the thought, a bolt of fear slipping through the link. “So open your right eye, let me know whether it’s any better.”

Catches-leaves hesitates, but then slowly cracks open his right eye.