Since I now had a specific use for extra room, I spent the time waiting for the other Heroes to get safe thinking about containment. In the end, I decided that perhaps the best option I had was to carve out a room in the plateau that could only be reached from the tower--something I'd already decided to do, though I hadn't had a good reason why. Using the basement for containment seemed a bad idea, in case something exploded or could manipulate the rock nearby--if it could break the base of the tower, I'd lose everything I'd built, aside from whatever I stashed in the Plateau, or elsewhere. At the same time, putting it at the top of the tower didn't feel "confined" enough. Something that broke out, if it could fly, would just be free.

So far, my only bridge into the plateau was on floor 10, and I made my way there, examining the small antechamber I'd cut into the rock. I looked around, not entirely sure how wise it was to start making big changes. After all, Jess and Alice had both frowned at the idea of digging deeper, but... containment would require that, wouldn't it? I closed my eyes and focused on my bracers, wondering what they would tell me, but not trying to use any kind of active senses, just... drinking it in.

My mouth twitched. Somewhere, deep inside and far beneath the mountain, was a large quantity of some kind of processed metal. Processed, I was sure, because it felt pure and consistent in texture, just... probably not whole. It had been scattered, at least a bit, but for the most part, my senses were too vague at this distance to know for sure For whatever reason, my brain jumped immediately to the idea of a crashed space ship. I... let that thought rattle around, but it wouldn't exactly explain any "curse" with people seeing the recently dead, would it? Maybe it was some kind of underground demon fortress, perhaps that had once been on the surface until a master Earth mage sent it far below, dropped a mountain on it, or both. Wouldn't magic account for the existence of this sharp-edged plateau better than geology, anyway?

Not that there were no plateaus back home, of course, but once I got started thinking about weird coincidences and mysteries, I couldn't help imagining the hand of mysterious ancient powers in everything. And I mean, really, who was I to say which was more likely--ancient fortress sealed by a powerful mage, or an crashed alien space ship underneath a completely normal geological formation? I'd know better if I got close enough to tell the shape of it, but... I'd been specifically warned about that. Better to wait and explore sometime when the others were around, and they were better equipped and more experienced. And... I guess I should really include myself in that.

For now, I dug a relatively long and straight circular tunnel, deep enough that the tunnel had started to feel cramped, and created a spherical vault chamber at the end of it, making the walls of it thick, dense, and perfectly formed, like the walls of my tower that Jess had said blocked her senses. That done, I retrieved my glass-sealed little collection of gunk, formed a similar box around it, and placed it in the chamber.

I spent a little time in there, staring at the walls and thinking about the apparent magic-blocking effect. Was it something like a faraday cage? That didn't immediately make sense, because the core of a faraday cage was using a conductive mesh, where I was using rock. Was it special rock? It didn't seem to be. Maybe it was something else--was the blocking effect in the tower about the vacuum voids I'd added? To be safe, I created some voids around the edge of the spherical chamber, but I couldn't tell any difference. Of course... I'd never been able to tell the difference, so that didn't say much.

Of course, a containment chamber was only as good as its door, so after standing around and thinking for a while, I just completed the sphere. I could remove the block as easily as I made it, so there was no reason to add hinges or seams. I threw in another door about halfway down the hall, just out of spite, and another covering the entrance, which I disguised, matching the wall around it as best I could, which (in my humble opinion) was pretty good. A person just looking at it doubtless couldn't tell, though I didn't go out of the way to make it thick enough to sound identical to other walls if you knocked.

It did occur to me that anyone who couldn't reshape stone at will would probably have an entirely different opinion than me of the thick-walled capsule buried deep in the mountain, behind walls that weren't even meant to be opened. It might have seemed like overkill; it probably was. But given how easy it seemed to me, overkill didn't seem like enough. That was probably a side effect of having such incredible power at my fingertips, but even having said that... I had no idea what levels of power other people had. For all I knew, there were dedicated stone mages that would have similar abilities, even if they only got that far at the end of their career.

As my thoughts churned over things for a moment or two, a line formed through my thoughts. Stone mages; clay; Miun. She wanted to be told if the Heroes were coming back, which they might be. Why? Her being paranoid about the other four made me nervous. My people have a bad history with what you northerners call heroes. Had they worked with a Demon Lord in the past? Or did people here think they did, and persecuted them the same?

Come to think of it, there was the matter of the dead stable boy in Amash, as well. His black skin and Miun's Asiatic looks might both inspire racism in people from our part of the world--not to mention the vaguely Arabian looks of the locals. I hadn't seen any signs of racism from the others, and I could still hope none of them were, at all, but I simply hadn't spent much time around them. Given our people's history, though, it wasn't implausible. I frowned, suddenly displeased by the concept of five white people coming to save the world. It had made sense intuitively when it happened; a bunch of similar people that would be working together. That's all it felt like at the time; we were people.

The problem being we were more like each other and less like any of the locals. It was bad enough that our histories were so different, but we definitely looked different, too. Why? Was it really necessary?

To clear my head, I took some time trying to set up a garden using my new seeds, Jessica's magic formulas, and the meteoric steel to serve as a power source. To my surprise, I found it harder to summon more meteoric steel than it had been when the others were around, and the bracers gave me definite feedback that it was specifically that; that the power to create legendary metals was easier when the other Heroes were there, presumably so that I would be using it for their sake.

I considered that as I worked, letting it distract me from questions of race and skin color. Did the others have powers that only worked when the five of us were together? If the answer was yes, why? Did it have something to do with why I was deliberately kept apart, so we could surprise the Dark Lord with the power of friendship, or whatever, when we all finally teamed up?

I chuckled quietly to myself at that thought, as I tied a plant growth array to the Meteoric Solar Panel--no wires, just a carefully shaped plate with both the array and the power source on which I set an elongated clay trough with dirt, water, and seed prepared. The whole thing was moved up onto the roof, where the evening sun was turning a deeper shade of yellow, but not yet turning red.

I studied the contraption, nodding to myself when I sensed a bit of a flow of power, and left it at that, to go eat. I was half-prepared to just eat more pickled vegetables, but Carli bleated in protest until we went out walking to see Malla. My goat, having been spooked by two appearances of demon animals, wanted to make sure she was okay.

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We arrived at an inauspicious time, as it were; Malla was handing off a goat to a middle-aged woman that I recognized as the butcher, and although the goat in question wasn't panicking, there was a sense of dread across the fields. I grimaced, and immediately tried to distract Carli, but she just turned her head so that she could see both me and the butcher at once.

You scared (sad). Carli's mental voice was suspicious. Is goat in danger (in health-risk)?

"Carli..." I knelt down and moved to put myself between my goat and the butcher. I wasn't sure... I mean, the bracers had accelerated her mental age, but would she understand the concept of death? Was she going to rebel if she knew her family were being eaten by the villagers? I considered for a moment, but tried to put a spin on it.

"Most goats..." I grimaced, since I didn't like any of this, but as hero of Will, I found I had no trouble forcing myself to say something unpleasant. "Many animals have a... last use before they die, of being food for others, including people."

Yes, Carli agreed, again suspicious. Meat. Goat is meat. Fox is meat. Many things is meat.

I nodded, and pushed through. "People like Malla protect and care for animals knowing they may become meat some day, when we need meat. It is a sad day for goats, and for Malla, but all animals die in the end. Becoming meat is not any sadder than dying of sickness, or in a fight, as long as you have had a good life."

Carli stared at me, and I could sense a lot of conflicting emotions inside of her.

"But," I emphasized very quickly, "it hurts those who are bonded, because we know how much more you are than meat. I don't anyone to see you as just meat, because you are more to me. You will always be Carli to me, not meat."

Goat (that one) is become meat? Carli's mental voice... felt almost fragile, and I reached out and put a hand on her head, but didn't reply.

There was a long period of quiet as my goat considered things, before she took a step back and turned her head to look at me.

Carli not sad (angry) about one goat. Carli scared (worried, angry) about family. Life before Colin lonely, not good life. Die before good life sad. Die early means sad early. Yes?

That stung, though I had to say... it felt like a good thing for Carli to be focusing on. How could we make the goats' life better before they died?

So I reached out and grabbed Carli for a hug, which for once she tried to resist, until she really recognized what I was doing and let me show affection. "Yes," I said, when she stopped struggling. "We try to let goats lead long healthy, happy lives, but we don't always get what we want."

Carli butted her head into me a little, and I let her go, but she seemed mostly calm. Colin scared (worried, angry) about Carli?

I put my hand on her head. "Always."

Carli turned, and I knew she was looking at Malla, who was watching us, now. Goats... not family now. But Carli sad (sorrow, worry).

"Yeah," I said, and ruffled her hair a bit before standing. "Come on, let's see Malla."

Malla, for her part, didn't seem creeped out or even confused that I was treating Carli like the intelligent goat she was. I could have been mistaken, but the look on her face when she knelt for Carli to come up and see her more closely... she seemed sympathetic. "Hey there little girl," she said, as Carli pushed into her hand as greeting. "Another one went off, today."

Carli looked at her, briefly chewed on nothing, then pushed in to Malla again, in a way that the older woman took as seeking affection. They stayed like that for a bit.

"Always hard," Malla said after a bit. "Not for me, not anymore. But I know that they come to understand it, that the ones who go away never come home. That we do it on purpose. Innocence gets lost. I dealt with that long ago, but watching each new generation figure it out for themselves... it don't feel good at all."

Carli was listening, but she didn't act like it.

"I don't think I could do what you do," I admitted. "It's hard to get involved with someone and still give them up."

Malla nodded, but stood. "It ain't for everyone," she said, her tone no worse than tired, now, but I'd always thought she seemed tired. "I grew up with it, and was well used to it 'fore I was doing it alone. Still, it hit different, sometimes. After my daughter was born, and after every every funeral; hardly matters whose."

I winced at that. Malla had lost her daughter, I knew, but I'd also never seen her with a husband, and she was doubtless too old to have living parents, unless they were an elder. But... beyond that, she must have had others she cared for or about. Neighbors, friends.

"Well, you've got me thinking about it now." Malla suddenly sighed, loudly, and turned. "Might as well come in and share a drink."

I wasn't so hungry that I couldn't have put off dinner, but I didn't end up needing to. She was in the process of making a stew, and she dumped a few more ingredients in as she and I shared a half-bottle or so of a halfway decent fruit wine. I was... not really a drinker, and I hadn't gotten started on it since I'd arrived, but I was pleased to find that even out in the middle of nowhere, people could put together a smooth and pleasant drink.

Malla had mostly stayed off-topic for a while, until the wine got to her, I think. We were sitting down to eat the stew, but she looked at the wine she'd been drinking instead. She had no fancy glasses, of course; she'd poured the beverage in a clay mug, which served us well enough, though it was a little sad.

"The worst of it," she said finally, "was after my daughter died. I had so little left of her, is all. The ones she'd tended to, the ones she cared about... for a long time, I didn't send those away. Felt like they and I shared a bond with her, and I couldn't get rid of that. Still have Hainre, and his beau Cherl. They're good to me, since then, but foxes take their toll despite my best efforts, and I gotta sell something to make ends meet."

Carli was listening, but outside the hut. I hadn't insisted, and my dear little goat seemed to understand. Honestly, she seemed to be taking it all very well.

"What about goat milk? Goat cheese?" I knew these were things, but I wasn't sure how things varied across worlds.

Malla gave me a strange look. "Some places that might work," she said, "but generations of my family tried it and they all said the milk was no good. Barti's family, the other goat herders on the other side of town, say the same. Something in the plant life out here gets in the milk, and it makes folk sick. Even fresh."

I frowned, but nodded. I couldn't help wondering if there was something the three magic Heroes could do for that--whether it was purifying, or filtering the milk, somehow. If the sickness was bacterial, even just setting up a pasteurizer might work, but it was hard to know.

Malla's stew was good, and we talked about mostly inconsequential things--local history, and especially her family--for a while. She also confirmed what Miun had said about the plateau, and said she'd even seen her own grandmother's ghost by the plateau on one blood moon, many years ago. I didn't press her for the details, but it seemed to me like something had happened.

When it had gotten quiet, I stood up. "Thank you, Malla," I said, and meant it, wanting to offer her a hand up, but she seemed content to stay sitting. "I wish I could do more to help."

Malla just shook her head and gestured at me with her cup, dismissively. "Nothing to help with, but I'll keep you in mind if anything happens."

I nodded, and retreated outside, finding Carli out with the goats. They had all gathered around her, and I sensed some weak psychic link between them, but I couldn't sense what was being said without forcing my way in.

The goats, of course, were sharp enough to sense me before I got close, so their odd little meeting came to a stop before I could intrude. Carli came over, looking pleased, but also a bit off. "Hey Carli," I said, kneeling down. "Not causing trouble for Malla, I hope?"

No. Carli was just a touch standoffish, now, but I didn't sense anything there. Checking. Goats like Malla. Carli likes Malla. Goats have good life. Not sad.

I smiled at that, and reached for Carli, who brought her head in to be pet and scratched. "I'm glad," I said, and I was. "I always knew Malla was a good woman."

Yes, Carli said simply, and turned and started away back towards the tower, without waiting for me. I stood up and followed, knowing that my young goat-girl had plenty to think about, and let her set the pace, even when we ended up wandering astray for a little while, as she found another nice rock to stand on and look out over the town, before we finally turned and went back.