Settling into my body, I become aware of just how tired it is. I’ve been pushing it, magically in particular, although we’ve done a fair bit of physical work today too, and it’s telling me that I need to rest properly. I can rest when this is all over, I tell it firmly, opening my eyes.

  Kalanthia’s golden orbs are the first thing that I see. Almost as big as my head, her eyes gaze at me with a mixture of gratitude and deep fear. I rejoice at the latter, not because I want Kalanthia to be fearful of me, but the implication is that if she is, that’s a good sign she didn’t suffer enough brain damage to lose her memories. At least, not her long-term ones. And that she’s not attacking me even though I know her body is easily healed enough to do so is a good sign that she knows who I am.

  Unless it’s the Bond between us which is keeping her from attacking me, of course.

  Just to be cautious, I decide to make sure that my assumptions are correct before releasing the Bond as I promised.

  “Kalanthia, do you recognise me?” I ask carefully, taking several steps back so I can see her body in its entirety. I move slowly so as not to trigger her predatory instincts. Kalanthia blinks, the movement quick and barely present.

  I know who you are, Markus Wolfe. Binder. Her voice is…odd. I’m used to hearing it in my head as she communicates telepathically with me, but this is the first time it has reverberated through a Bond as well. I don’t remember having that sort of dissonance with Lathani even though we’d been communicating telepathically for a while before we were Bound. Maybe it’s the fact that Lathani had never been good at emotional control so having her emotions accompany her words wasn’t much of a change. Kalanthia, on the other hand, has very rarely allowed her emotions to intrude against her will so feeling the tumult that accompanies her words is an unexpected experience. And more than a little uncomfortable, if I’m honest – I now know just how much she fears the Bond we now have.

  Having had the confirmation that she recognises me, I immediately dive into my Core to sever the Bond. Though I’m tempted to extract a promise from her that she won’t attack me as soon as I do, I have a feeling that trying to do so would be a mistake. Our relationship is as fragile as glass right now; the wrong move will shatter it into shards.

  The Bond is surprisingly strong considering it’s only been in place for a few minutes, maximum half an hour. But I suppose that that’s natural considering how we’ve been building up our relationship without the Bond. Still, strong or not, it’s new enough that it’s easy to snap and I feel little more than a sting of pain and none of the loss that I felt when I released River’s or Bastet’s Bond.

  Opening my eyes, I see shock suffusing the golden orbs before me.

  You…broke the Bond? she questions, as if she can barely believe it.

  “I said I would,” I tell her, politely ignoring her brief loss of composure. “Now, as far as I can tell, you’re healed, but if you start feeling pain of any sort, especially near your heart, let me know immediately. Hopefully a healing potion will be able to fix anything that I’ve accidentally left behind. For now, though, I need to help my companions.” To be honest, Kalanthia probably won’t mind being given a moment to regain her composure.

  Turning my attention to those who had been seriously injured before I worked on Kalanthia, I fear the worst – I don’t know how much time I took to heal the massive nunda, but the injuries on Pride and Hades in particular needed dealing with straight away – one of the Warriors got in a lucky blow on Pride in the last few seconds of the fight and half-severed his forearm.

  Fortunately, my companions are not novices when it comes to conflict, and while I was working on Kalanthia, everyone who was injured has obviously been given as many health potions as their systems can withstand and their injuries treated. Those who were critically injured before are still badly injured now, but they’re alive and they haven't deteriorated too much. Tipping back a mana regeneration potion, I get going on the healing immediately, the process far faster than with Kalanthia thanks to my increased familiarity with my Bound’s bodies.

  By the time I’ve finished getting my companions to fighting fitness – even if that does mean leaving some insignificant scratches and bruises for the sake of saving bits of mana – the sun has moved noticeably from where it was when we first came to the den. Fortunately, I’m fairly confident that the situation in the village is under control.

  I’m just out of speaking range, but by investigating the Bonds that I have with those in the village, I’m able to tell that not only are most of them still alive, but that they are tiredly triumphant. It’s unlikely that they would feel that way if they had been defeated and were prisoners of the invaders. It’s enough to make me decide to take my time to heal my Bound rather than hot-foot it down the valley.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  When Sirocco comes back during my healing session, the images she sends me are just as reassuring – my people moving around freely, the healers working on the injured, and the surviving non-armoured enemy Warriors and Pathwalkers currently bound and under guard. I have to guess that the enemy Pathwalkers have had their mana inhibited as there’s no evidence that they’re trying to fight back with magic.

  There are fewer numbers on both sides – a pang goes through me as I think sadly of the feisty woshel – and I’m sad to see far too many bodies being moved to the area just outside the mountainside gates. The area in front of the valleyside gates is ripped to pieces and deformed terribly so I can understand why they’re not using that. It makes me even more tired to think that we will need to have another funeral, so soon after the last. But hopefully with this attack, I can make sure that this conflict is over for my village. Permanently.

  “Alright everyone,” I say, pushing myself to my feet with a groan when I finish as much healing as I’m going to do now. Even if my villagers don’t need me immediately for the fighting, they will need me as their leader to deal with the invaders. “Let’s go down to the village.” I look up at Kalanthia. “I’d like to leave the hatchlings and elders here for now, if that’s OK with you? I’m fairly sure that the situation in the village is safe, but I’d like to be certain before giving them the signal to return.” If I never see another dead hatchling, it will be too soon.

  Very well, Kalanthia answers promptly, but she seems subdued, as though she’s deep in thoughts which are troubling her. I hesitate – normally I’d give her a couple of scratches on the chin, but I fear that her thoughts might be centred around the Bond that we’ve just shared. I feel bad that I used Dominate on her, even though I know it was the only way to save her life. She has trauma centred around it which I’ve probably inadvertently brought to the fore again. Offering her physical contact, even if she normally enjoys it, just seems wrong to do. So instead, I incline my head to her.

  “Thank you for your help during the battle. And thank you for the defence of my people.”

  That makes a light flicker in her eyes and she focusses on me properly for the first time since I released the Bond.

  It was my pleasure to fight alongside you, Markus Wolfe.

  I leave it at that, smiling at her – with a closed mouth, of course – and then go to join the rest of my Bound. On the way, I check the Pathwalker that Dusty stabbed – as it turns out, she’s bled out since no one gave her a healing potion. I don’t know whether that was intentional or an accidental oversight, but I’m not going to ask – she’s dead, that’s what’s important. With her death, it means only three Warriors now remain of the second strike force.

  They are subdued, watching in silence as I collect the bodies and put them in my Inventory. The remnants of Tree-whisperer’s body and her head are the most important for me to take – proof that even their leader was not spared, for all that I wasn’t the one to kill her.

  We move out, travelling as fast as we can to the village. Since Hades is pretty much healed and I’m tired, I ride on his back, appreciating the chance to Meditate a little deeper than I can do while moving. It’s just as well for me to recoup as much of my mana as I can – who knows what I’ll need to do in the village.

  The Warriors who surrendered come with us – I’ve tied their hands behind their back which makes their gait a little awkward, but I can’t say that I’m crying over that. They can run; that’s the most important thing.

  We slow as we approach the village. On one side of the village are bodies laid out carefully in a line. On the other side, they’re carelessly piled. It doesn’t take much deduction to realise which are our dead and which are our enemies. Though I do notice a number of smaller carcasses which are laid out with more care – the Pathwalkers, I guess.

  I dismount off Hades’ back, stroking his neck in a brief show of gratitude before walking with reluctant steps towards those who died in defence of our village. Part of me doesn’t want to know; the other part of me knows that refusing to find out would do them a disservice. And so I pace slowly through the lines of dead samurans, doing my best to recognise them all as the individuals they were in life.

  In total, there are sixty-three bodies lying in carefully laid-out lines. Unsurprisingly, most are Unevolved, fifty-one of them. I’m sad about that, though know that most of them wouldn’t be. If anything, if they died defending a Pathwalker, they’d consider it an honour.

  I’m reminded of what Shrieks said about explosions when I see the condition of their bodies, though – several of the Unevolved are mutilated enough to make it impossible to identify them. Two bodies are little more than a blooded and torn torso, though one still has half an arm and half a leg. The rest of the bodies carry more normal wounds – stabs and slashes through their skin showing how they died.

  In addition to the bodies of the Unevolved, there are eleven Warriors and even a Pathwalker who are lying alongside them. My heart is in my mouth when I see the smaller body lying among the bigger shapes. Fortunately, by the time I get to it, I’ve realised that it’s not any of my Pathwalkers, not really – it’s one of Flying-blade’s lot. Earth-shaper, I think. I’m torn between pity and a sense of poetic justice – that she was killed by her own tribe attacking in the same way she had attacked us.

  I’m gratified to realise that the pile on the other side of the path is far bigger and, obviously, composed only of Warriors and Pathwalkers. It’s a little hard to count them considering they’re piled together, but based on the number of prisoners I saw in Sirocco’s memories and the number I know came to fight us in the first place, there must be at least eighty Warriors dead. The ten Pathwalkers dead are easier to count since they’re lying separately.

  Seeing a familiar figure ahead of me, I walk forward to greet Shrieks – and find out exactly how the battle went.

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