Zu Mari stood rigid, Ruxja Cougar’s scythe-like blades across his throat.

“What did you do?”

Zu took a moment to gather himself, heart racing from the recent confrontation, trying to remember the plan he’d come up with for this circumstance.

“It’s a protection barrier,” Zu finally said, filling his words with as much haughty arrogance as he could muster. “You don’t expect I would travel without reassurances? Especially with poor Little Otter so vulnerable.” He reached up to stroke the shivering otter trembling in his collar. “Until she is strong enough to protect herself, I must safeguard her with everything I have.”

“Just… warn us next time.” Ruxja sheathed his weapons and nodded once.

“The barrier is static, I won’t need to bring it down and recast it again before we reach your village.”

Before Ruxja could respond, Avashir paled and stumbled to his knees.

“No…” he whispered. “Something’s wrong.” He was breathing fast, staring at the marks on the back of his hands. “Where is it?”

Zu froze.

“I told you to stop it,” Heart of Fire and Spirit of Twilight Death said resignedly. “Too late now.”

“This shouldn’t be possible!” Zu hissed. “The loop resets everything.”

“Not everything, it seems.”

“I have to go.” Avashir choked out. “My clan leaders must be warned.” He got unsteadily to his feet, rushed through a sloppy attempt at a bow, then bolted off into the woods.

Zu caught Luzi watching him with a perplexed expression on her face. When she saw him notice her, she blushed and looked away.

So his Protagonist Fragment worked even across time loops. Zu began to wish he’d had more time with Ozyri Tori, if he could have converted him into an ally… but, no. Ozyri was insane, and Zu had barely survived his encounters with the fellow time-looper. Everything had played out as it was meant to be, all for the best.

Now, he sidled toward Kiru Tori, the blue-tunic-wearing warrior. He’d only spoken to Kiru once so far, so it would be a good measure of how strongly his Protagonist Fragment aura worked to try befriending him in each loop. Given how powerful Viha Cougar was, and Zu’s inability to even get close to him, it would take several tries to wear him down into an alliance. But these weaker patrol members would be good practice.

“Kiru Tori? Is that you?”

Kiru looked at Zu with a puzzled expression. “Yes… I introduced myself a few minutes ago.”

Oh, he had? Zu couldn’t remember which loop anything was in any more. “Well. I would like to learn more about the Tori family. All I know is Ozyri tried to kill me, and the Cougars are… tolerant of your proliferation.”

“I beg forgiveness on behalf of the Tori clan.” Kiru actually dropped out of formation to formally bow to Zu. “I assure you, he is a rogue element and not representative of us.” He sounded almost frantic to be believed.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Zu nodded forgivingly. “I understand. Ozyri is in the past. I hold no grudge against you for his actions. But tell me, what are your specialties? What areas does Clan Tori excel in?”

“You’ve really not heard of us?” Kiru looked disappointed. “I suppose to an Otta, everything about us smaller clans is beneath your notice.”

“Yes, perhaps officially. But I’m here to negotiate peacefully and reasonably with the wild clans, so it would be in everyone’s best interests for my ignorance not to remain.” Zu was quite proud of that line, he felt he was really getting the hang of speaking ambassador-ese.

“Our main strengths are our size and manufacturing capability. We can match any of the great clans for quality or speed… though perhaps not both at once. But we’re improving fast! I promise, if the Otta ever need work done with textiles or enchanting… at least on a basic level, the Tori clan would be proud to provide our services.”

Textile production was about as far from useful as Zu could imagine a thing being, but enchanting? He nodded sagely. “Do you have a catalog of available enchantments with which your clan is experienced? As it happens, I may know someone in need of such services.”

Kiru lit up immediately. He launched into a spiel about basic enchantment options so mundane and tedious that Zu began to regret setting him on the route. But it was a chance to let his Protagonist Fragment work on the overeager young man, so he nodded along and tried to pick out anything worth knowing about from the rush of words.

“…and I know self-repair is considered a necessity in some cities, but self-cleaning often tends to conflict with it because of the opposing forces of creation and destruction involved, so our merging of the two is something of a work of art.” Kiru paused for a breath, and Zu took the opportunity to cut in.

“What about more martial enchantments? All this mundane stuff is well and good, but I doubt it can compete. What are your defensive options? Can you create magical weapons?”

Kiru blinked and refocused, nodding as he effortlessly redirected his torrent of words into a new channel with full enthusiasm. “Weapon enchantments are extremely expensive to practice. I’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to do them quickly or in bulk, but we assuredly can complete them correctly! Here, look at my blade, for example. Though this is one of the simpler and weaker representatives of our skill.”

He passed Zu a short sword with a slightly curved blade, flanged near the tang to serve as a sword-catcher. It had a faint aura, though so thin and weak compared to Heart of Fire and Spirit of Twilight Death that Zu had to strain to sense it.

“What’s its power?” Zu asked, swinging it experimentally. The weight was good, at least. Solid construction, if nothing else. Perhaps even superior to his own ancient sword in craftsmanship, though much weaker in other ways. “I can’t quite tell.”

“Oh, yes, sorry about that. It’s bound to me, so of course you wouldn’t be able to tell.” He held out a hand, and Zu passed the weapon back. “It does this.”

Kiru stepped a bit outside the formation, aimed at a tree, and swung in a quick downward sweep. Zu felt the power and its discharge, recognizing the sensation instantly as one he’d noticed but never singled out during his many fights with this patrol back when he’d been trying to defeat them with force.

Wind snapped out in a visible line of white, hitting the tree and chipping off the bark. A leaf fluttered to the ground.

“A wind slash?” A very weak one, at that. No wonder Zu had never noticed it before. Such an attack wouldn’t penetrate even his robes, much less cause any actual harm.

“It… it’s really much more powerful than it seems,” Kiru said, obviously sensing Zu’s lack of awe. “The power of the sword will grow along with me. If I weren’t so young and weak, it would be truly a terrifying power! Your warriors can have custom swords that get better the more they advance!”

Zu pursed his lips and shook his head. “I see no purpose to that. Give a warrior a strong sword from the start and he can learn to use its full potential as he grows. If the level of the sword constantly changes, there will be no constancy. A man who must rely on his blade needs to know exactly what it can do. I’m sorry, this wind slash enchantment will not do.”

Kiru wilted in obvious disappointment.

Zu sighed, resigning himself to boredom, but reminded himself it was for the sake of power and understanding. “But… what else does your clan have to offer? It’s possible one of your other products will suit my needs.”

Kiru grinned and started talking.

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