Before

The creature’s not going anywhere for now, so I take a moment to gaze at it while I turn the question over in my mind. It’s on its front, an arrow through its wing and Bastet pinning it down firmly. Unsurprisingly, it’s squirming, but unable to reach the raptorcat with its beak or claws, it’s not got much of a chance.

The first thing I think of when I look at it is an eagle, but there are significant differences. It’s got four legs I can see, sprawled out forwards and backwards under Bastet’s weight. Its wings are mostly leathery, but with a fine coating of smooth almost-feathers, not all that dissimilar to Bastet’s coat. It has hooks on the front joints of its wings which look wickedly sharp, similar to the talons it has on its scaly feet. Its tail is a fan of leather and almost-feathers, like its wings. Its eyes are reasonably big, though not to the point of being like an owl’s, and each has a ridge of bone above that leads down to its snapping, toothed beak. Its body is coated in what looks to be more like fur than feathers, unlike what is on its wings. It’s about half Bastet’s size and, although I can’t make out the details of its colouring in the dark, I can tell that it would blend in very well with shadows. Not surprising considering it’s clearly a nocturnal hunter.

All of which is a bit of a distraction for my debate over whether to Dominate it or not. For sure, it would be good to have some eyes in the sky, especially for what’s to come: I’m not going to go into the lizard-folk’s territory figurative guns blazing. I’m going to need to get information first – about Lathani, about where she’s being held, about the defences around her, etc. My plan was to send Bastet in, but potentially a view from above would be more useful and inconspicuous, especially if it’s at night.

Beyond that, though, do I have any good reason for Dominating this creature? Especially since after Spike’s death, I promised myself not to Dominate unless I was sure that I needed the creature. Do I? Well, an aerial scout will always be useful. Except underground, I suppose. A bird wouldn’t have been much use when I was travelling through the tunnel to the salt cave, after all. But I’m not planning on doing that much – one encounter with a giant squid monster is one too many in my life, frankly.

So, yes, I could use an aerial scout, even a nocturnal one, presuming it can still operate in the daylight to a certain extent. And while I’ve decided that it’s immoral to just go out and Dominate everything because I can...on the other hand, there’s a different dimension to this encounter than previous ones: the creature attacked me first. If I don’t Dominate it, then I either release it or kill it. Releasing it just risks it attacking at another point, perhaps grabbing a cub which would be far more vulnerable. I can’t see Bastet willingly allowing that risk to continue. On the other hand, if I just kill it, then how is that any better than Dominating it? Killing in the middle of the battle is one thing; killing this creature in cold-blood, pinned to the ground, feels different.

Maybe I should decide to Dominate it in the way I did Bastet, rather than the way I Dominated Spike. With Spike, I pushed and pushed until he gave in because it was give in or be crushed. I never deserved the loyalty he showed me, and failed to take the time to develop a bond between us beyond the forced Bond. With Bastet, it was different because, although I showed my strength in the Battle of Wills, it was far more a negotiation than pure force which won the day for me. That set the seeds of the bond that we currently have, one that I’m grateful for.

I make up my mind. I will use Dominate on this creature. If it would prefer death over being Bound to me, as Bastet would have had the cubs not been on the scene, I will respect its wishes and fail the Battle. Bastet can then kill it while I’m in my vulnerable state. If it accepts, then I have another member to add to our unlikely pack.

Circling the creature until I’m in front of its head, I kneel down. It tries to bite me as I reach towards it, but I was expecting that and succeed in avoiding the attack. Grabbing its head, I force it to look into my eyes.

“Dominate,” I say, this time much more calmly than either of the times before.

As is now becoming more familiar, I fall into the liminal space of consciousness in which these battles are played out. The pressure of water coming towards me is almost as strong as that which I remember being directed at me in the battle with Bastet. Strange – I was expecting it to be stronger considering how we’ve travelled further down the mountainside.

I force my way through the space towards the creature which is fixed in place. Our eyes are drawn to each other like there’s some sort of magnetism attracting them. I see an unbridled wildness in the orbs, a refusal to give in. I have a sinking feeling about my chances here, but continue trying nonetheless.

Either my increased familiarity or my increased stats allowing it, I notice more about this space than the times before. For example, the closer I get to the creature, the more I understand of them. Almost like my approach isn’t just entering their personal space, but also in some way entering their mind.

Come join our pack, I think to it. We are stronger together.

I do not work with others, is the response. I am alone, and better for it. It’s not really words, what is communicated to me. Instead it’s more of a wild cry, a sound hauntingly similar to a buzzard’s mew. I remember going on holiday once to central France and hearing the buzzards overhead as they circled the air. The sound became irrevocably linked to freedom – the birds soaring high above everything, free to do as they pleased.

You are not better for it, I respond, trying even though I have a sneaky sensation I might be beating a dead horse here. You attacked a foe too powerful for yourself and lost. The price of that mistake is your life. In our group, you would have support; back up.

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It is the Law. Mistakes mean death. I fly free; I die free.

Don’t throw your life away for nothing. Where there is life, there is hope. I do not wish to offer slavery, but companionship. Bonds, yes, but reciprocal ones where you gain as much as you give.

I feel the complete incomprehension and rejection of my words before the response even comes through.

I am alone. I live by my own successes; I die by my own failures. I am free.

This is not a creature which yearns for companionship, like Bastet. Flashes of the creature’s life come along with the last communication, my steady approach through the space between us having intensified our connection to that point. He has always been alone, even in his mother’s nest. There is no evidence of a father, and any times he was with a female of his own species, it was an almost violent coupling with his four feet having to hold her in place to stop her from slashing at him. When the deed was done, he took his leave, never supporting the female, nor encountering his offspring. Any other time he met one of his own species, he drove them off or was driven off in his turn.

He’s right – he’s not a team player. I could force him to be through a Bond, but I won’t. To do so would be to completely turn him against his own nature, which I cannot bring myself to do. Not when I have other options, at least. Were my life immediately on the line, I couldn’t say whether I would uphold the same morals. But for now, I know what to do.

Very well, I say with regret. Fly free, I tell him heavily before giving a warning, but if you attack either of us again, or the three cubs under our protection, you will die.

I don’t wait for him to respond, and he doesn’t look to be in a hurry to do so. Not exactly sure how to stop this whole thing, I make some guesses. Given that to ‘win’, I have to push forwards until my opponent submits, to ‘fail’ I guess I have to be pushed back myself. Step by step, I move backwards with the pressure, reaching my starting point and then going beyond. As I keep stepping back, I lose connection bit by bit with the creature, eventually getting to the point where I cannot even see him beyond a blurry outline.

I wonder whether I’ve incorrectly guessed the way to ‘fail’ but then, as I reach the same distance behind my starting point as the creature is in front of it, the world suddenly blurs. I’m returned abruptly to my body, an immense weakness overtaking my limbs. I’m unable to move or even stay upright, falling heavily to the floor.

So this is what the description meant, I muse to myself. A good reminder to never use this Skill in a situation in which becoming this vulnerable would be fatal. Not unless I really have no other choice, that is. Fortunately, my Bond with Bastet is unchanged and I communicate my regretful failure to her. Though, she should already know the outcome given that I’m so completely vulnerable and the creature is biting and scrabbling with renewed vigor.

The wave of emotion I get back along the bond is the equivalent of ‘Oh well’, accompanied by what on a human would be a shrug. In the next moment a wave of killing intent billows from her and I barely manage to send a rejection before she moves to bite down on the bird’s throat, clearly intending on crushing it between her jaws as she has done so many times before.

Fortunately, I am in time. She pauses, her jaws literally around the bird’s neck, the creature not even moving, probably for fear of accidentally impaling itself. Not moving, she sends a feeling of slightly-wary curiosity along the Bond.

“I want to let him go.” The curiosity is repeated, this time with a tinge of confusion. “We...touched souls. Or minds. Or something like that. I can’t kill him when all he wants is to be free.” No matter what I’d thought before engaging in the Battle of Wills, I just...can’t. Or let Bastet do it, which is much the same thing.

She replies with more confusion along with an image. This is of the cubs coloured by a feeling of danger. I think she’s trying to say that she fears for the cubs’ safety with this bird flying around. And while she’s right, that’s why I gave the bird the warning while we were still able to communicate. Hopefully it’s got through.

“We will protect them,” I tell her, sending my certainty down the link. “Besides, I’ve told the creature that if he attacks us or the cubs again, we’ll kill him, so hopefully he’s intelligent enough not to even attempt it.” My weakness from Dominate has faded so I climb to my feet. The bird creature watches me warily.

After a slight pause, Bastet sends me grudging acknowledgment, along with the hints of what I reckon are a bit of contemptuousness towards the bird’s intelligence. Which, I understand: what kind of creature attacks something that clearly is far bigger, stronger, and more equipped to deal with an attack? That said, I’ve been being attacked by creatures that really should have known better since I arrived here. It sometimes feels like the animals of this world lack a self-preservation instinct that those of Earth have in spades.

Bastet having agreed, even if it was under sufferance, she slowly withdraws from where she’s pinning the bird down. The bird creature doesn’t take very long to try to avail himself of his renewed freedom, flapping his wings to take off. Unfortunately, his wing is still very much damaged by my arrow so instead of taking flight, he just sprawls ungainly on the ground.

I can’t leave him like that. Giving him his freedom back means nothing if I’m just setting him up for the next predator which comes along to have a good meal. Leaping forwards, I pin him once more to the ground. His eyes meet mine for a moment and I see a deep rage and wildness in them. I don’t know if he’s capable of feeling betrayal, but if he was, no doubt he’d be thinking right now that my promise meant nothing.

“I just want to heal you,” I tell him, my voice soothing. I doubt he understands my words; hopefully he at least gets something from my tone of voice. If he does, it doesn’t stop him from struggling. In the end, I actually have to get Bastet involved again to prevent him from hurting himself further by fighting against me.

The raptorcat obligingly pins him again, but she once more sends me that feeling which is the closest equivalent to ‘you’re weird’ that I think I’ll get from her. This sort of thing is completely alien to her: releasing an enemy is bad enough; actually healing it is beyond her ability to comprehend. It doesn’t stop me from doing it.

Although not sure that Lay-on-hands will work on a creature which isn’t Bound to me, a creature which is actually actively hostile, I try it anyway. Fortunately for the bird creature, it seems like the healing Skill isn’t only for allies as I find my magic sinking into the bird without any hesitation. Not knowing more than the basics about birds’ wings, and not willing to assume that this creature’s wings even hold to those basics, I don’t try to direct the magic. As a result, it takes a fair amount of my mana to heal its wing and the other smaller injuries which are a result of our scuffle.

This time when I release it and indicate to Bastet to do the same, the bird creature explodes into flight, winging its way past the circle of light cast by my torch and disappearing into the shadows.