Now
While the lizard-man is heavier than I’d expected and I’m almost winded by our quick dash across the forest with him over my shoulders, our ambush went ahead with as much success as I could ever have hoped. Now I have to hope that I have as much success with my attempts to Dominate him...
I’m dropped into the normal space that accompanies the Battle of Wills triggered by activating my Class Skill. By this point, I’m getting rather used to it. The humanoid lizard is standing across from me, glaring with all the force he can muster. A difference between this Battle and my previous ones is immediately made apparent, though: if I want to win this, I’m really going to have to focus.
There are always two forms of pressure on me during these times: the amorphous pressure which feels like the space itself is rejecting me; and the pressure that is aimed directly at me, presumably by my opponent. During this time, it’s like we both hold fire hoses and our wills are the determiners of the force that they can impose.
The force projected by Spike and the bird creature was neither strong nor well-directed. That is to say that it’s like the fire hose was more of a dribble than a jet, and that it was being held a metre away from the head rather than at the head itself. Anyone who’s tried to hold a garden hose like that knows exactly what happens next.
Bastet’s force was significantly more powerful, but it was also not particularly well-aimed. I only realise the difference now that I’m facing an opponent where the fire hose is both powerful and well-directed. This attempt is like chalk and cheese with my previous experiences; it’s different enough that already I feel doubt about winning.
Then I chide myself – if feeling cold or fear is enough to weaken one’s will, feeling doubt about success is surely going to do the same. I can’t fail here; I can’t fail Lathani. My mind set, I metaphorically put my head down and get on with it, pressing myself into the pressure that is trying its best to push me back, and directing my own ‘fire hose’ at the lizard standing on the other side of the space.
Bit by bit, inch by inch, sometimes even centimetre by centimetre, I make progress. It’s exhausting work – a bit like forcing yourself to do one more rep on the gym equipment, though purely mental rather than physical. But I refuse to give up. I kept going at the gym. I kept going when my girlfriend left me. I kept going when my father died. I kept going despite being in a world where everything’s trying to kill me. I kept going when my arm was broken and I was faced with a prehistoric killing machine. I’m going to keep going now. If I only make a centimetre of progress, even if I only make a millimetre of progress, it’s still progress. It’s still moving forwards, and every move forwards gets me closer to my goal.
I hit halfway. I barely even realise it, so focused on just keeping on pushing, forcing my way forwards. When the humanoid lizard starts communicating with me, it actually makes me lose my focus, pushing me back a quarter of an inch. Despite the frustration this literal back-step causes, I welcome the communication. Although I’m making progress, I feel like my willpower has a limit, and that the clock is ticking. Not to mention having no real idea of what I will actually do when I reach the lizard. Will I force him to submit like I did Spike? Can I? If I can succeed in convincing the lizard to give in to me, it will both make things easier and satisfy my principles. If I can’t… I push that thought to one side – I’ll cross that bridge if I come to it.
Why are you doing this? The lizard-person roars at me. And yes, ‘person’ is the only description I feel is accurate because of what this communication has just revealed: he is capable of language. The realisation hits me like a slap of cold water to the face, this proving that he is both sentient and sapient beyond a shadow of a doubt.
I’m very familiar now with both Bastet’s and Kalanthia’s telepathic communication. Bastet does not communicate in words at all. She has no true understanding of language, instead sending images, emotions, and sense-memories. It’s me that has to put the effort in to translate all of that to words when needed.
Kalanthia, on the other hand, has a much more sophisticated telepathic communication, though I’ve come to feel the limits of it more as time goes on. I’d had a suspicion, and this communication from the lizard-person confirms it, that Kalanthia’s telepathy is actually just a much more advanced version of Bastet’s. Instead of using words as a human would do, Kalanthia instead projects extremely focused thoughts, images, and emotions that say exactly what she wants to say and nothing more. My mind then interprets these as words because that’s the way my mind works. I’ve been brainwashed into using language since I was in nappies; it’s not going to change now.
Unlike my two animal friends, the lizard-person is communicating in words directly. There is none of the blurred touch of image or emotion that happens with Bastet or even slightly with Kalanthia; these communications are crystal-clear. Of course, that’s not to say he’s using English, but I can feel the difference between him projecting his thoughts in words compared to Bastet or Kalanthia.
It’s startling enough that I almost lose ground again, though I shouldn’t really be so surprised. All the other hallmarks of civilisation were there in the weapons, buildings and adornments; why would language not be present either? It’s still a shock. Hopefully that will make convincing him easier.
I can still tell that it would be very difficult to lie in this space, perhaps impossible. Although he’s using words, I can still feel his emotions – the anger, confusion, and fear that are fighting inside him. If his emotions start telling a different story from his words, I’ll know he’s lying. If he can feel the same in me, he’ll realise when I’m being sincere.
He’ll also feel exactly how angry I am about the actions of his kind. Hell, maybe he was even one of those who came to attack Kalanthia and steal Lathani. The thought fans the flames of rage inside me, fury that is already feeding on the fuel of fear that I’ve got here too late; that Lathani is no longer able to be saved. My eyes narrow at the lizard-man in front of me and the pressure holding us apart feels ever slightly less intense.
I’m doing this because your people attacked two beings very special to me and took one away with you, I snap at him. Just because we’re communicating with words doesn’t impede me from also using images. I send an image of Kalanthia as I left her, and Lathani as I saw her last. I don’t even try to divorce my emotions from the images.
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The lizard-person’s crest of dark red spikes loses colour and wilts. I feel fear overtake the anger in his emotions.
You are allied with the Great Predator, he replies, his projected words weak and whispery. Is it with you?
If by ‘it’, you mean the mother of the cub you stole, she’s not with me, I tell him grimly, feeling the relief fill him. She sent me ahead. If I do not succeed in bringing her cub back, I strongly suspect that she’ll come seeking answers herself. The relief turns once more into fear and he projects, I think accidentally, the memory of finding other members of the tribe torn to pieces, their remains sometimes eaten, sometimes simply left there to lie. I’d always known Kalanthia was powerful, but seeing the after effects of her attacks on the lizard-folk is as much a reminder to me as coming across the mauled raptorcats. No way do I want to get on her bad side; it renews my determination to succeed here in this space – as if I’d needed any further encouragement.
Perhaps it’s just due to my state of mind, but the pressure pushing against me once more suddenly seems just a little less forceful. Why did you take the cub, and is she still alive? I demand. Maybe even a failure here in the Battle of Wills could be worth it if I could at least get some information on Lathani.
Why should I tell you? Maybe not, then. The lizard-person’s response is angry. I feel my own anger rise once more to match it: how dare he feel angry? They’re the ones who invaded Kalanthia’s territory, tried to kill her, and stole her cub. And then he’s angry that the consequences have come a’calling? I can feel what you are doing. You seek to oppress me, to chain me far more successfully than your pitiful vine bindings could ever do.
May I remind you that those ‘pitiful’ bindings were enough to take you down? I retort. You realise that even if you win this, you’ll still have to fight your way out past my companion and me? I’m bluffing a little as I know I’ll be hit by the vulnerable condition afterwards for a few seconds, but only a little as I reckon that Bastet will easily be equal to the task of occupying a disorientated lizard-man for that time. Then, I reckon that the two of us together should be up to taking him down. Hopefully he can’t feel the uncertainty through my emotions. Either way, he’s silent for a short while.
The lack of provocation allows me to calm down a bit, something sorely needed. I need to remember that now is not the time to allow my emotions free rein. For all that I’m angry about what happened to my...friends while I was gone, the most efficient way of getting her out is still to convince this guy – or another – to help me. I decide to try a bit of negotiation.
Look, I don’t want to kill you. I tell him, focussing on the fact that if I kill him, I’ll have potentially lost a way to get to Lathani, rather than on my anger at what his kind has done. I don’t even want to force you into a Bond with me if you’re completely against it. First, I want information about the cub, and then, if she’s still alive, I need to get her out of there. Believe me, it’s in your interest to cooperate.
Really, the lizard-man scoffs.
Yes, really, I say completely honestly. I genuinely think that Kalanthia’s going to want blood for this; if she doesn’t, I do – at a point in the future when pursuing that aim isn’t likely to get Lathani killed. Or me. If you give me information now, I promise we will not kill you immediately. If the cub’s alive, we’ll keep you tied up until it’s all sorted out.
And if she’s dead? His tone gives nothing away, nor do his emotions – the fear and anger are still very prevalent and could mean anything. At the same time, they’ve calmed down a little, the beginnings of curiosity growing in him.
If she’s dead, I think that’s the worst possibility for all of us: Kalanthia, the Great Predator, isn’t going to be happy to know that her beloved cub is dead. She’s most likely going to take that out on everyone around – especially those who killed Lathani.
The Great Predator is dead, he insists. No creature could resist as much poison as our warriors laced her with – I helped prepare it myself. That’s an interesting tit-bit, but I put it to one side for now.
Oh, she’s alive, I promise him grimly, and with no little satisfaction, and she’s angry. Perhaps my sincerity is enough to convince him as I fully believe that she is alive, and am confident enough in my prediction of how she would react to the death of Lathani to give these dire proclamations. Whatever the situation, the lizard-man goes quiet for a moment. The pressure he’s applying to me lets up a little and I continue making more progress, moving inch by inch at this point.
Then we are doomed either way, he says finally, his mental ‘voice’ full of despair.
What do you mean? I ask, curiosity cutting through my own emotions.
If we keep the cub, we are doomed when the Great Predator comes to seek it out. If we kill it, we are doomed when the Great Predator decides to destroy us for our actions. Lathani’s alive! However, if we give it up to you, we are doomed all the same.
Why would you be doomed if you give Lathani to me? A good portion of the fight has gone out of the lizard-man and I find myself taking significantly larger steps forward, indeed even arriving within arm’s length of the creature himself, if I could reach out my arm. Which, interestingly enough, I feel like I could do. Like I should do if I want to push through his final resistance and form the Bond forcibly, without consent.
But I don’t do that. I’m not going to do that. Not just because of principles, but also because I’m curious about what he will say.
There was a reason we dared the wrath of the Great Predator, that we sought to steal away its cub.
Tell me, I order softly. I don’t have any true power over this lizard-man, not without a Bond in place, but I can tell that he has very little resistance to offer me now.