Once more entering the space which has become increasingly familiar, I face the kiina. The pressure beating against me is strong but has a sense of…tiredness to it. And fear. I’d been gambling a bit – the recommended Willpower to Dominate is forty-five points according to my Inspect Fauna Skill.
While technically I have fifty points in Willpower, I’m also suffering from a twenty percent reduction to that stat. Whether that impacts my ability to Dominate, I don’t know – I’d have to guess it does, but don’t know for sure. However, I was hoping that by rebuffing their attack first, I might be able to reduce the requirements, just as River being tied up and threatened with the destruction of his village enabled me to Dominate him despite being below the necessary Willpower threshold to succeed outright.
My first impression is that my guess is accurate. The fear and fatigue hollow the pressure that pushes me back, making it feel like a paper bag is pressing against me instead of the usual jet of water. The air inside is strong, but the bag itself is weak, and a single harsh move from me will tear a hole and deflate it completely.
What ‘tearing a hole’ would entail when we’re talking about a sense of metaphysical pressure rather than any real object pressing against me, I don’t know. What I do know is that, as always, all I can do is press forward until I can communicate with the other party. Which actually happens sooner than I’d thought.
Normally I need to push to halfway between my starting point and the creature to find the moment we start to be able to communicate mentally. This time I only need to press forward about a third of the way. Is this the difference between the first and second tiers?
Why have you not killed me?
Another surprise is the clarity of the communication. It’s not dissimilar from the mental messages I receive from Bastet now, though still not quite as clear as what I receive from River. Although this space facilitates communication and the kiina probably isn’t capable of such communication by itself in the real world, it’s still likely that these creatures are able to communicate between themselves in some way. However, the slight ‘blurriness’ does indicate that, though evolved, these creatures are not used to communicating in words – or whatever I should call what River’s people use.
“I wanted to offer you an opportunity,” I say honestly. “You and your companion.”
You killed one of my mates. You may still kill the other. Your mate could kill me at any time. What opportunity do you think to offer me? It’s very clear that this creature is capable of a wide range of thought and emotion. Perhaps even as much as River or me. At the same time, it’s as straightforward as Bastet, its fear not preventing it from speaking its mind.
Though I can communicate with the kiina at this distance, I can’t really feel its emotions: its ability to send mental messages is good enough that very little emotion actually accompanies the thoughts themselves. I take a few steps forwards, pressing against the paper bag.
What are you doing? No! Stay back! the kiina cries, its mental voice laced with panic.
The pressure between us resists me, almost halting my progress. And then I push just a little bit more and the bag tears. The pressure practically disappears in a moment. The kiina lets out a wounded cry of despair, of hopelessness. I stop immediately, hoping I haven’t gone too far.
This battle has not been similar to any other in my experience and I’m a little at a loss for what to do. However, with the pressure having almost completely disappeared, only the ambient pressure remaining, I’m certain that I’d be able to stroll over to the kiina and complete the Bond easily. However, that’s not what I could live with myself doing.
Anyway, I’ve succeeded in my goal. With the bursting of the resistance against me, the kiina’s emotions flow over me unhindered. She’s in pain and scared, her fear almost making me feel nauseous with its intensity and omnipresence. I frown and concentrate, trying to work out exactly what is frightening her.
My ‘battle’ with Fenrir was over so quickly that I didn’t really notice the difference in comparison to before my stats had such a dramatic boost, but this time I do. With my significant increase in mental stats, I realise that I’m able to detect nuances in the sea of emotion that surrounds me. That’s to my benefit: if I can reassure her, I’ll be more able to convince her to accept the Bond willingly.
She’s fearful of our strength, that’s clear. Both the strength of River in being able to overcome her when she believed him to be easy prey, and my strength here in demonstrating how easily I can overcome her resistance. I mean, I wouldn’t say it was easy, but her impression of me is that it was.
She’s also sorrowful about her dead mate, and fears the death of her second mate. Tied up in that is a fear for her unborn children, the eggs that are growing within her, soon to be laid. I actually take a step back in surprise when I realise that she’s pregnant. Or sort of: is it pregnant if we’re talking about an egg-laying species?
And then, of course, there’s the fear of death which exists in any thinking species, and the desire to find a way out of the problematic situation. I can work with that.
“Look,” I say to her. By this point, although she’s unable to move, I get the sense that she would be hunched up if she could. Her eyes are glassy and despairing. “First of all, I promise that, as long as your mate, your children, and you don’t try to attack me or my companions, we will let you go.”
I’m actually less worried about these two than I should have been about the snake: the snake was barely hurt; this one is badly injured and her mate is half-lame. If they try to attack, it will be easy to take them down. Besides, I was able to kill one almost completely by myself, and they know that. It would be suicide if they attacked us again, and they’re intelligent enough to realise that.
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Either way, the hope actually brings light back to the kiina’s eyes, especially when I support my statement with a sense of the genuine intention behind my words.
You would let us go? Then why attack us? Why bring me here?
“You attacked us, “ I point out, my eyes narrowed. “Don’t forget that. We were hunting the same prey, but we had already got what we needed and would have cleared out of your way. You chose to pursue us.”
You seemed weak. Good prey, the kiina retorted.
“How did that work out for you?” I ask, a little sarcastically. She doesn’t reply. “So, as I said, I will let you go if you reject my offer. However, I hope that you’ll see the benefit of what I suggest.”
Which is?
“Strength in numbers,” I say straight up. “You clearly already see the benefit of that: you were travelling around in a group of three. Yet you’ve also seen how easily we took you down, and that’s because we were able to apply our strengths to your weaknesses,” I tell her honestly. “Being different species, we’re able to cover each other’s weaknesses offering an all-rounder group without significant downside.” Or significant strength, I think, but don’t say. Still, I’d rather be part of a jack-of-all-trades group than a glass cannon group which could only handle half of what was thrown at us.
“And that doesn’t mean that we don’t also offer individual strength: one of our group has recently evolved and the rest of the group are on their way to it, advancing quickly.” The kiina looks at me keenly, her attention now focussed entirely on me, interest beginning to quicken the emotional cloud around me.
I am injured, significantly. How can you offer me strength when you have taken it from me?
“I can heal you,” I say confidently. While it might take more than one session, I’m confident that I can heal her entirely: I wouldn’t have offered the Bond otherwise. From what I’ve seen, most of the injuries to the kiina are flesh wounds, though some might have hit some organs. Scepticism fills the area around me.
“It’s true,” I inisist. “Look.” I shove the memory of meeting Bastet at her, then a memory of what she looked like after I’d healed her, the feather-less skin showing where the wounds had been. I throw in the memory of the tail end of her evolution for good measure, proving my words about one of our number having undergone it.
The scepticism I feel is replaced by further interest. Not, I sense, specifically for herself, but more for her unborn offspring. Like Bastet, her concern turns towards her young.
If I allow this chain, if I accept binding myself to your path, what will happen with my eggs? I sense that, like with Bastet, this is a make-or-break question.
“We are already looking after the young of one of my companions,” I tell her honestly, shoving an image of the three raptorcat cubs playing together. “She keeps them under control. When they reach adolescence, I intend to offer them a Bond. If they refuse, they will be allowed to leave with no hard feelings. If they attack any of my Bound, they will be driven out forcibly, though I will still try not to kill them if it’s at all possible to avoid. Or they may choose to take the Bond and be able to stay with the rest of us. Does that sound acceptable to you?” I ask.
The kiina considers the offer for a short time before responding with a sense of uncertainty.
My offspring will not stay with me until adolescence. I will protect my eggs until they hatch, then bring them their meals for the first few sun cycles. When they are able to move easily, and are capable of hunting for themselves, they will be responsible for themselves. I would not want them to be trapped before they had any experience of the world.
I consider the question. It’s true that it’s a different situation than that with the raptorcats. I don’t think I’d be comfortable Binding babies, not now knowing how much a Bond impacts a creature, willing or not. Thinking about Binding the raptorcat cubs as they are now actually makes me feel a bit uncomfortable.
“How much time are we talking about here?” I ask. “I mean, how much time would you or the eggs need to be protected?” The kiina hesitates.
My eggs will hatch before the rains start fully, and they will be independent a while before the longest night. To be fair, that she’s capable of giving me even that precision of estimated time is pretty good. To expect her to be able to tell me how many days with numbers is probably unreasonable. Still, though we’re talking about a few weeks, we’re probably not talking about more than two or three months of time.
“Then I will not offer a Bond to any of your young before they leave the nest,” I decide. Yes, it will be annoying to have one or more of my Bound tied up in looking after the young, but the raptorcat cubs are unlikely to be fully grown by that point anyway. Given that though they’ve grown in the month and a half since I Bound Bastet, they aren’t even as far along as Lathani is now, it’s going to take a while yet. That said, what happened to Lathani wasn’t exactly natural growth.
So, we’d have to be protecting the cubs anyway; protecting some baby kiina isn’t going to be much more work. “If we come across them later when they’re old enough to make their own decision, though, I’m not making any promises,” I warn her. I get the sense of indifference from her: I have a feeling that after the hatchlings leave the nest, she’s not too concerned with what happens to them.
“And if any choose to stay with us until they are grown, I’ll decide that on a case-by-case basis,” I add, my mind considering what to do if they choose not to leave at all. This elicits more discomfort from her, but I don’t get the sense of outright rejection. “So, what do you say?” I ask. “Do you wish to join us or not?”
She considers the question for a few moments more, but I’m already sure of what she’s going to choose. Sure enough, a moment later, she answers with what I expected.
I wish to join you. You will offer this to my mate too?
“I will,” I confirm. “But be warned: if you become part of our group you are part of it. We share what we have, need, not greed. We help each other where necessary, knowing that we will be helped in our turn. Basically, what I’m saying is expect to give at least as much as you take.” I fix her with a serious stare. “If you can’t deal with that, tell me now.” A sense of impatience comes from her, not what I was expecting after my little speech.
That is normal. Alright. I’ve definitely got a second Bastet here.
“OK, good,” I finish, a little nonplussed. Then, with a little shrug, I keep walking forwards. The kiina keeps her eyes on me until I’m standing within arm’s length. I will her to accept the Bond; she lowers her head and does.
A moment later, the misty grey space vanishes and we’re back in the ‘real’ world.
Right, one down, one to go.