For a moment my newest samuran Bound looks absolutely stricken and all I get from the Bond is a sense of intense emotion. Fearing the worst, I’m trying to summon up the courage to ask him exactly what has happened, but I am arrested when he instead starts grunting and clicking.

It’s so beautiful, he breathes, his mental voice sounding utterly awed.

“You can see?” I ask hesitantly, but hopefully.

More than I ever believed was possible, Catches-leaves confirms. He closes one eye – the one I haven’t yet touched – and then looks around. Is this what you see? All the time? He sounds so disbelieving that my heart goes out to him. And I don’t even know what he’s seeing exactly.

“What can you see? And how clear is it?” He doesn’t answer for a moment, seemingly still taking everything in.

I can…I can see the trees. And…Runs-with-the-river, I can see you! You’re a lot scrawnier than I thought you were, he comments. I can’t hide the smile that suddenly takes over my expression at River’s affront. Catches-leaves, apparently oblivious to the flickering orange in the other lizard-kin’s spikes, continues. Actually, I wonder how well someone so short-sighted would do with a communication system which is at least half visually based.

I listen carefully to his continued descriptions, satisfied with everything he can see. Although I don’t know exactly how good River’s eyesight is, from his thoughtful nodding, it seems like Catches-leaves compares pretty well.

“Well, it seems like it’s been a success,” I comment after Catches-leaves’ monologue tapers off. “Would you like me to do your other eye now?”

I don’t even need a verbal response: the immediate eagerness that flows across the Bond answers my question.

Having done it once already, the second eye is relatively simple to fix. I have to reverse some of what I did on the other eye, otherwise my magic would be inclined to just make a direct copy, but between working with the template from River’s left eye, and Catches-leaves’ fixed eye, I’m pretty sure it should be good enough now.

When he opens his eyes again – this time eagerly – he is suffused with a joy so deep that I never thought it was possible for anyone to feel that much when the emotion was positive. Not expounding about what he can see this time, instead, he twists to face me fully.

Lifting his chin as high as it will go, he speaks, even his grunts and clicks sounding joyous, vibrant blues and a deep purple curling through his spikes.

You have given me sight! For the first time in my life, I can see everything. I can never repay you for this, Honoured Pathwalker, but ask of me what you will: I’m yours. Now, and forever.

As he speaks, I’m surprised to feel the Bond between us break like an elastic band. There’s a sharp, though short backlash which makes me frown, but I don’t have time to react more than that before I feel another Bond snap back into place. It’s significantly deeper than before, and far more permanent.

I recognise the feeling immediately: it’s a Companion Bond.

My jaw slackens and surprise robs me of speech briefly.

“What…? How…?” I ask with the little brain power that remains to me. Did he just…initiate a Companion Bond? Is that possible? Apparently so.

I am convinced of your power, Honoured Pathwalker, greater than any of the other Pathwalkers. Not one of them could offer me my sight, but you have done so and without even requiring anything of me for it first. For the first time, he hesitates. I know you already have a capable assistant in Runs-with-the-river, but if you would accept my service and offer me your guidance, I would be honoured to call you master.

My eyes still wide, I feel like there’s been a bit of an overload of information. Fortunately, these days I’m better at dealing with too many revelations given at once.

“Let’s just slow down a moment,” I suggest. “So you’re willing to Bond with me for longer because you’re confident that we, that I can protect you?” I ask slowly.

I hope that is the case, Catches-leaves admits, lowering his chin to look me in the eye. However, you have given me the means to better protect myself and have proven yourself capable of what I had considered impossible before this. Why should I not believe what you said about being capable of winning against the Pathwalkers?

Well, I sometimes ask myself that question, so perhaps he shouldn’t be quite as hopeful as he is. However, I appreciate his faith and, indeed, hope that he’s right.

“Next question, then. How did you just do that?”

Do what, Honoured Pathwalker?

“Break the Bond and then recreate it.” His confusion doesn’t seem to have lifted.

I don’t know. I just…did it? he responds tentatively. Was I wrong, Honoured Pathwalker?

“No,” I sigh. “No, I’m happy that you trust me this much. It’s just that I don’t understand how it happened.” Particularly because I thought that the Bond between me and my Companion had to already be deep. How could my Bond with a lizard-man I met less than a day ago be significant enough to qualify?

Not to mention that I thought I was supposed to be the one to offer it, not just have it snap into place without my say-so. Who’s the Binder here, anyway?

The samuran does their equivalent of a shrug with a flick of his tail.

I felt, feel, immense gratitude for your aid. I owe you my life twice over since I do not know how much further I could have gone with the way things were, but I was too afraid to change them. Too afraid of having nowhere to call home; no protection against the dangers that surrounded me, unseen. You have not only given me my sight, but also another option.

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“Then you’ll eat now?” I ask, a little wryly. If I’d known all that was required to make you eat was to completely recreate your eyes and replace our Bond with Companion one, I would have started with that, I joke to myself.

Lifting his chin briefly, Catches-leaves is – when taking everything into account – predictable.

If you will permit me to.

“Yes, I permit you to eat,” I sigh again, a little exasperated. “In fact, it’s a standing order that you can eat the meat of any carcass and whenever, as long as it’s not one I’ve specifically told you not to consume. OK?”

I understand, Honoured Pathwalker. And, Catches-leaves hesitates before continuing, what should I call you?

“I prefer my name – Markus,” I tell him immediately.

As you wish, Catches-leaves responds and my eyes narrow in confusion at the slightly disappointed tone. May I be excused to eat…Honoured Markus? he asks before I can challenge him on it.

“Oh. Sure. Go ahead.” I watch as he lifts his chin briefly and then turns to walk towards the closest carcass, his steps a little hesitant but excited. When he gets to the already half-devoured body, his hunger is clear in just how quickly he rips into the meat.

“Well, that went better than expected,” I remark to River, pushing myself to my feet. “But is it just me or did he seem disappointed at the end there?” When no response comes, I look at my Bound. He’s focussed on Catches-leaves and I’m a little startled by his expression, little that there is.

Touching the Bond, I realise that I’m not mistaken: River is jealous. Of what? Or who? Catches-leaves? Why would he be jealous of the other samuran?

“River?” I ask quietly. “What’s wrong?”

The lizard-man seems to shake himself free of his funk, the faint orange which had been colouring his spikes dying down to be replaced with a neutral green.

Wrong, master? Nothing. But I know that he’s lying. Or at least, he’s not telling me why the Bond still feels like a lake whose surface is still but that churns with strong, conflicting currents underneath. I hesitate, but remember that the last time I tried to just ignore this sort of thing, I’d had to have a talk with him over it anyway.

“River,” I warn, my voice hard. “Don’t lie to me. Ever.” Then I allow my voice to soften. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then say so. But don’t tell me nothing’s wrong when it’s clear that something is.”

River looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and the Bond roiling with conflicting emotions.

I….Do you wish to replace me? My eyes go wide in surprise.

“What on earth would make you think that?”

Catches-leaves is…younger. Has joined you completely willingly, without requiring you to do anything in return. Hasn’t harmed those you care for. And now has better sight even than me. He would make a better assistant for you. The last is said in his equivalent of a whisper, his colours muted and his vocalisations barely audible.

“What makes you…? Why would I…?” I stop, closing my eyes and holding up a hand to pause anything River might say while I try to sort this out.

I’m almost completely sure that this is some sort of cultural misunderstanding, because I really don’t see why there would be a problem otherwise. So perhaps that’s where I should start – straightening that out.

“Alright, can you explain what ‘assistant’ means to you, please.” I think I already have an idea from previous discussions, but would like it clarified here.

It is a position of particular importance in the village, River answers promptly, as it requires aiding a Pathwalker directly and, by default, being able to learn from them. I was the assistant for the Herbalist: that’s why, despite only being three years old, I was relatively highly ranked in the village and was allowed to access most communal carcasses. Except the Pathwalkers’ or Warriors’ ones, of course. I was chosen because I was fast and strong, and good at finding herbs in the forest. He says the last with a sort of well-worn pride – not one that made him arrogant, but one that he’d drawn upon many times as a motivation to keep going.

I know the kind of thing – there were times in my life where I had to do the same. When my pride seemed all that I had left to me.

“So it’s a coveted position,” I summarise.

Yes. And each Pathwalker only has one assistant. I nod slowly.

“And you would call the Pathwalker you assist ‘master’, I guess,” I continue, putting several pieces together.

That’s right.

“So because you call me ‘master’, Catches-leaves has assumed that you are my ‘assistant’?” My eyes widen as realisation dawns. “So his request to call me ‘master’ was actually a bit of a betrayal for you.” After all, Catches-leaves had offered to become my assistant while ‘knowing’ that River already occupied the position. And, if all had been the same as in the village, that would have meant knocking River several notches down the hierarchy, to install himself as a more influential figure.

Of course, that’s not how things work with our pack, but Catches-leaves doesn’t know that, and I don’t like what it says about his character that that was the first thing he tried to do.

Don’t be too upset, master, River interrupts my thoughts, perhaps sensing my increasing anger across the Bond. He had always been the lowest in the hierarchy because of multiple reasons that I now realise were probably due to his inability to see. It is not surprising that he might take any opportunity to raise his status now that he is not forcibly kept at the bottom. River might say those things, but I sense a certain amount of satisfaction with my response regardless.

“I hope you realise how important you are to me,” I say in an abrupt non-sequitur. Because honestly, regardless of whether I should be angry at Catches-leaves or not, I don’t want River doubting how much I appreciate his presence. “You’ve worked hard for our group, have been there for me time and time again, and have helped and supported everyone else, both with hunting and herbalism. You and Bastet are my right and left hands.

“Catches-leaves may be able to offer a lot, time will tell. But even if he suddenly becomes my star warrior, or can find more useful plants than you, or develops a way of farting rainbows, it won’t matter. Not to us. He might become a friend, but I’m not going to forget someone who already is my friend.” It’s probably not terribly eloquent, but I hope the earnestness with which I say the words is enough to convince him. “And if it bothers you that he has better sight than you? Well, we’ll just have to rebuild your eyeballs from scratch too,” I say with a grin.

River looks at me properly for the first time in the whole conversation.

So…you’re not replacing me?

“Not now, not ever,” I assure him. Then I hesitate, wondering if I should say what is on the tip of my tongue. After a brief moment of thought, I decide to go for it – if I don’t say it now, it might never be said. “One day I will be able to give you the choice to leave if you want. But I will never force you to go.”

His expression softer than it’s been all day, River is about to reply when we both hear a sound. It’s a shriek of pain. A familiar shriek of pain.

After briefly glancing at Bastet who’s just jumped to her feet, all three of us run towards the scene of trouble.