Jason POV

  I woke up cold and stiff, realizing I had spent the evening on the floor of the tower. In my sleep-addled state, I move over to the ladder, hoping to find a better place to sleep, when I find three guards standing at the base of the tower with torches. They have chairs pulled up as they drink and mumble to themselves. I looked over at Morgana, her eyes trained on the guards.

  “How long have they been here?” I ask under my breath.

  It’s evident to me that the guards are camping at the base of the tower to wait for me. It bothers me that they aren’t watching the wall where the enemies came from. Instead, they are gathered around where I’m sleeping, but someone must have decided I’m the greatest threat now that the elves are dealt with.

  For a moment, I consider that maybe they are stationed to guard me in case an elf tries to sneak up on me in my sleep. Yeah... there’s no way they’re doing that. I have no doubt that someone is the guard captain, who is more of a nuisance every time I see him.

  ‘A few hours after you fell asleep.’

  My stomach bunches up as I feel a little betrayal. The guard captain, I get, but even the soldiers? I’m not arrogant enough to believe I was the sole force in the battle, but many more would’ve died if I weren’t here.

  There’s no winning, no matter what I do; I’m viewed in a negative light. I take a mental step back, getting too worked up will only lead to trouble. It could be that they are ordered by Olivia or her companions. Her campions are a bit paranoid, and I can see why they might want eyes on a mysterious stranger. I take a few deep breaths to calm the anger burning in my chest. I know too little of what’s going on; I need a calmer mind if I am going to prevail. I repeat that as a mantra in my head, knowing I need calm but not quite able to will myself into a complete state of calm.

  “How long have I been asleep?” I ask Morgana.

  ‘Most of the night, the sun should rise soon.’

  I feel across our bond, checking on her. Her attention is acutely focused on the perceived threats so she can protect me. I feel a simmering rage at the men at the bottom of the tower, not quite as intense as what she felt for the elves, but still a targeted dislike. She also feels much stronger than she had been since I met her. I look her over for wounds and see none except some blood on her hands and mouth. I don’t really want to know.

  I want to feed her some mana in hopes that maybe I can reignite her spirit beyond the feeling of anger and protection. Deep down, I feel responsible for her; after all, I made her my companion. I want to try to give her a second chance at life after all the wrong that was done to her in her first life. Maybe if I invest enough mana, she might be able to begin to life she deserves and… I let the thoughts trail off. This is important to me, but I need to focus on this problem later, when I’m done dealing with the village bully.

  I eye the guards, assessing them before I make my way down the ladder. I see the guard captain is sitting in one of the chairs around a makeshift campfire. He stands up as he sees me descending. He looks at me, fuming, but there is also a twinge of a grin that I don’t like at all.

  ‘Keep calm, Morgana, let’s try being friendly.’

  “Hey guys, how’s it going?” I ask while forcing a casual upbeat tone.

  Despite the growing tension I feel across my empathy, I don’t want to spark a fight. Maybe they’re here to help me, or maybe they’re here to imprison me. I can’t control why they are already in front of me, but I can take control of the situation now. If I’m going to turn things around, starting on a friendly tone can only help my meager charisma.

  If I’m perceived as a friend, they’ll be less willing to try to arrest me, or whatever the captain has planned, and more likely to help me. Not that I have any intention of letting them put me in a cage if they wanted to. As I concentrate on my empathy, I feel most of the guards aren’t happy. It lightens my heart that they feel some gratitude for helping them. They were given an order, and it feels distasteful to them, completely at odds with the smugness radiating off the head guard.

  The guards jump to their feet as one as they see him walking down the ladder.

  ‘Should we kill them?’ As if it’s not tense enough, fortunately, the guards don’t hear her thoughts like I do. I can feel Morgana’s hatred and protectiveness of me directed as hostility at the guards.

  ‘Morgana, we need to at least talk to them.’

  “Good evening, m’lord,” one of the guards greets me, a middle-aged man with a thick, unkept beard.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me. How are you feeling? Do you have any injuries?” I ask as I gave them my best winning smile. I never had a silver tongue, but I can at least try. I purposefully don’t look at the head guard when I speak; nothing good ever comes from speaking with him. They look perplexed while looking at each other. They hadn’t known what to expect, and joviality was nowhere on the list. Gotta put that new and improved charisma score to work!

  “No, sir.” The guard replies as he straightens up a little more. It looks like I’m gaining some respect within the town… At least with a few people.

  “Good, good. So, none of you are injured… good.” I say nodding along with my words.

  “No, sir, the injured are being taken care of by old Nan, but… um, we need you to come with us.” His confidence wanes as he says the last part.

  “Old Nan? Well, lead the way to her so I can lend a hand.” The men look at each other as if they want to say something, but keep quiet, leading the way. Morgana follows along, and I see the men very uncomfortable around her, not letting her leave their peripheral vision.

  The head guard trails behind at the back, elated that his plan is working. That’s not a good sign. Not quite sure what his plan is, but I’m going to make sure it doesn’t go the way he wants. Would he fight me now that the elves were gone? I’m not confident in taking down all the guards in the town, but surely, he knows I won’t go down easily.

  It’s clear to me, wherever the guards are leading me, it’s not where I want to be, and I don’t want to follow them any longer. I make a detour, running from wherever they are going as soon as I am close enough to see old Nan’s shack. While I’ve never seen the shack, it’s hard not to miss the numerous sick people congregating around one part of the city.

  I see “old Nan” really does live in a shack that looks overgrown plants hanging on a web of ropes, drying under the sun. The house looks large enough for maybe two people, too small to house a fraction of the injured on makeshift cots around her house. I look around to assess which of the wounded are the worst off, and I also notice an elf in a metal cage meant for a dog. I frown at the sight. I refuse to believe they are all bad, and seeing him in a cage feels wrong. I push aside the sight, but I need to tackle one problem at a time.

  In my run toward the house, I created distance between myself and the soldiers. The guards behind me frantically scramble as they realize I’m taking off in another direction. I ignore their panicked cries and demands. As I near the house, one of the guards catches up to me, huffing from the exertion. I give the guard two of my empty water skins. He is young and only has a hint of facial hair on his face. He jumps as I put it against his chest, almost dropping the bags.

  “Go fill this up,” I then point to the other guard, “you go with him and bring back a bucket of water.”

  The two guards look between each other and the head guard, flummoxed as to what to do. The head guard looks like he just bit into a lemon, and the only thing keeping him from screaming is trying to find which words to use when he tells me off.

  The young guard tentatively says, “I’m not sure head guard Orus would like that, we are supposed to-”

  “I’m not sure Lady Olivia would like that,” I said in a cautious tone, hedging my bets that using Olivia’s name would keep them from doing anything unwise. If he says Olivia had ordered it, then I need to book it before they can capture me, and hope the ship is still there. I have no confidence in tanking one of those laser beams, but her injuries should delay her enough that I could get away before she can start summoning laser beams.

  “Look, either go get the water, or you can follow me around through the night as I blindly look for it,” I say, giving the boy an ultimatum.

  I’m saved by an old man tending to the wounded. He walks over, breaking the standoff by giving an empty bucket to the young boy. “Fill this up while you are at it.”

  Captain Orus, “What do you think you are doing. We need to-”

  “Orus, please, look around you. It’s bad enough dealing with old Nan; we need all the help we can get.”

  Orus gives a thoughtful look before crossing his arms.

  While the other two guards look for more water, they search around to see a bucket of water where small clay cups have been used to give water to the injured. I pull the water to myself and spin it with my current spell form before pulling off a thread of water to begin healing a villager with a crushed leg.

  Back in the old days, leg wounds were the worst. When a bone is broken, muscles will lock in to keep the bone in place, but the legs are too strong. The muscles pull the bones together with such force that it causes internal damage. That is why there were so many amputations when rifles were first incorporated into warfare. Later in Earth’s history, a splint would be used to stretch the leg, preventing the bones from causing internal hemorrhaging. I hope my magic will stabilize the wound enough that he won’t need an amputation.

  “That water was meant for the guards who we pulled from the wall.” Orus spits indignantly. I ignore him.

  When he doesn’t get a response from me, he growls. “It was meant for the injured who were hurt defending our town.”

  “Well, what do you think I am using it for?” I stare at him for a few moments before he looks away.

  ‘What happened to being friendly?’ I hear Morgana’s voice in my head. ‘Should I attack him?’

  ‘He has a stick up his butt. Just keep an eye on him for me.’

  A feeling of puzzlement comes back across the bond. ‘He has a tree branch up his butt? Does he need healing?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘It is a metaphor, though he could probably benefit from “healing” his anger issues.’

  I felt an acknowledgement from her, but she’s only more puzzled now. I ponder if I should explain more, but I decide against it. I make a mental note to discuss it with her later. For now, I focus on the patient in front of me.

  Despite my training, most of what I learned is first aid training to stabilize, so others can bring the marvels of modern medicine to bear. I feel out of my depth, surprised by how many of the people had survived with such severe wounds. One has his leg cut to the bone; another has a deep gash on his neck, and the third is riddled with arrow holes.

  Everyone on a cot has minor cuts and scrapes, but those three look to have the worst wounds. Most interestingly, there are several pastes and leaves wrapped with crude cloth bandages. I hesitate for a moment, realizing I need to remove the pastes, so I can use water to start the healing magic. I turn toward the man with multiple arrow wounds. I’ll wait until the water comes back before starting with a wound as big as a missing leg. The arrow wounds are numerous but far smaller.

  All the arrow holes are oozing discolored blood despite the ministrations of, I assume, “old Nan”. Slowly, I cleanse the wound of the muck and the poultices and begin utilizing my spell form to heal. I take the process slowly, to conserve both mana and water. The man never stirs as the wounds slowly close, little by little. Right as I see the water is running out, and there’s nothing else I can do for now, I look up, meeting the eyes of the man on the cot. He stares at me with fascination and awe.

  “Thank ye, sir. I dun’t have the money to repay ya.” I wave him off. He started to get up before I placed a hand on him. I gently push him back down.

  “Take it easy, you’re going to undo all my hard work. I was able to close the wounds, but they will still be tender. Take it slow for the next few days.” He nods at me as he lies back down.

  Despite the political mess this makes with the headguard and the chaos of the day, I’m finally doing something that gives me a sense of normalcy. Triaging wounds, assessing the trauma, and treating wounds. I have a surreal feeling, like so much has happened it feels like something I did in a past life… I guess technically that is true.

  In the moments between assessing wounds, in the back of my mind, I finally start to realize I’m in another world. Something about the familiarity of the work lets me start to come to terms with the monumental truth. It also doesn’t help that I’m able to help people so much more than I did in my last life.

  Years of training, skill, and knowledge let me help people when they are hurt or sick, but at times, I felt like I wasn’t making a difference. I couldn’t heal my patients, only stabilize them so they could get additional care. One day, as I was wrapping up and about to head home, I was talking with one of the doctors.

  They confided that sometimes they feel helpless when they are unable to help patients. So much of the healing comes from the body. It’s amazing how much the body can heal with help, but at the end of the day, it’s the body that needs to grow the tissue and repair the tissue. Now, though, I’m doing the impossible. Without any electronics on the planet, I can physically heal people.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  As I look around, I see a crowd gathering, watching me intensely. I notice a large part of that crowd is guards. It looks like Orus had grabbed another few guards, but he’s unwilling to act while I’m actively healing injured members of the town.

  One of the guards from earlier puts the bucket at my feet, and the second drops five full water skins. A little of the cool water splashes out of the bucket, landing on my leg, and his face turns ashen white. I find it strange he would be so scared of me. I wave it off before putting the water skins on my belt and pulling the bucket to the man with the missing leg.

  The wound is full of ground-up plants that’ve mixed with his blood to make an unsettling mass of scabs and plant mush. The wound stinks, not a good sign, but I feel the call of blood ready to respond to my will. Using blood magic might help, but it would reveal my blood affinity in front of everyone.

  I push aside the temptation to use my blood magic and begin to flush the wound with water. As the plants fall away, blood starts to pour out, and I use my healing spell form to reduce the bleeding. It starts using more water than I had thought it would, so I pop open a waterskin.

  I hear a loud voice behind me, which I assume to be old Nan.

  “What are you doing there, boy? Why have ya thrown all my hard work on the ground?” An old lady cries, walking over with the aid of a gnarled walking stick.

  I keep my eyes trained on the leg as I respond, “Hey, I’m Jason, and I’m a healer.”

  Instead of thanking me, apologizing, or offering help, the old lady harrumphs, “Well, good day to you. So why are you coming up here and mucking up my yard?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I thought I should heal these townsfolk.”

  I suppress my annoyance that she decides to question me right as I start treating the deepest parts of the wound.

  “Aye, and you couldn’t have healed them before I took hours preparing and packing their wounds, hmmm? Waste half my stock, I did.”

  “No, I just woke up-“

  “Oh, sorry, you were too busy sleeping. Next time I will just sleep whenever I am needed, and I am sure others will just take care of it for me.” I’m not sure how to respond, so I keep quiet and concentrate.

  Did anyone in this town want me to help? They’re all a bit too preoccupied with themselves. I sigh as I internally turn from this path of thought; they’re all just scared. Returning my focus to the work at hand. I can’t see the strands of magic at work, but practicing and seeing the effects of healing magic is insightful.

  For one, part of the healing process is allowing the water to sink into any open cut or wound I direct it at. For most wounds, like the arrow holes, this is beneficial. If I heal the outside first, then I can’t reach the deeper areas of the wounds.

  I also found the magic will vibrate and weave, pulling the flesh together as it closes the wound. Part of why the spell costs so much mana is the intense vibration. The spell can’t tell where the flesh is supposed to meet, so instead of simply closing the wound, a gentle vibration flexes everything until it finds where the two pieces of flesh are supposed to attach.

  Once the flesh in the wound is lined up, the water will thread the flesh and hold it in place. The vibrations continue until an area is woven together with a type of flexible magical water thread. When a critical mass of threads is joined, all the weaves blend into a stronger weave that fuses and regenerates the flesh. In almost every case, the flesh will come together without even a scar.

  What I find most fascinating is that the threads are almost completely still. Water magic doesn’t like to stay still, so there’s a brief window of a few seconds where either a critical mass will occur, or the water magic lining up the flesh will fall apart. This aspect of water magic reduces the potential for improper healing.

  If the magic has trouble finding where the flesh should match up, then the simple weave will break as it is realigned to the correct position. If there’s missing flesh, it would take the best approximation of the surrounding tissue. Most of the pieces of how the spell form were taken from the arrow wounds, but the leg wound with large pieces of missing tissue gives me new insights into how the magic works.

  I discovered how the spell worked when flesh was missing, while I was healing the leg wound, but it’s still a mystery to me how the spell pulls the flesh together without creating a scar. I’m nowhere near fully understanding the intricacies of the spell form, and I’ll need to study it more to fully understand it.

  The healing magic folds in to match the flesh of the tissue still attached. If I had the leg, I could reattach it, but without the limb, the magic does its best approximation. As I proceed, I start to try to blend it with aspects of the current spell. I incorporate a spinning action, instead of a gentle vibration, to aid the magic in speeding up the initial bonding. This spinning creates a watertight junction that pulls together the flesh, whereas the vibrations would take minutes as it slowly tugs both sides together.

  As I’m nearing the end, I ask about something that has been bugging me.

  “Why are you keeping that elf in the cage over there?” I tried to capture an elf the night before, and they hadn’t wanted to question him then. What changed their mind?

  “Aye, the guards found him and asked me to keep him long enough for the Lady to get the experience from killing him. Trying to get her favor and all that.” Old Nan explains. I look over my shoulder, realizing she’s been watching over my shoulder this entire time.

  I feel revulsion inside at the idea of caging an elf or human to kill them for experience. Morgana’s memories are still fresh in my mind, but I want to stop the evil that’s being done, not murder elves indiscriminately.

  I pull more water, popping open another water skin in addition to the two more I used while healing the leg. The young guard is still hanging around, so I call out, “Go fill the four skins I emptied.”

  Not wanting to start on the next wound, while I’m low on water, I sit back and take a breath.

  “Ready for another nap ey?” Old Nan says, looking down at me with wrinkly disapproval. I had blocked out her presence while healing the leg; unfortunately, it’s not so easy with her standing over me.

  I turn back to smile at the old lady and shrug. “Was there a particular wound you treated that you wanted me to heal?”

  There isn’t anything but she’s too stubborn to thank me or admit my help was needed. I know she means well under all the orneriness, and I can feel she is grateful under the frustration she could never heal them like I can, without magical affinity. She huffs in indignation before stomping back into her hut.

  I move over to the elf in a cage, reaching out with my mind. I sense a spike of fear and self-defeat. He’s aware that whatever comes next will be the end of his life or make him wish for the end. The feelings are morbid, and I’m tempted to just finish him now as an act of mercy, but I need to understand more.

  I have this mental power, and maybe it can help me translate or create a bridge of understanding with the elf. I ask him a few simple questions, but I feel he has no idea what I am saying. I contemplate what to do, but before I can think of an idea, the boy returns with more water.

  The neck wound is by far the worst, and as I dig into the wound to clear it out before healing, I see blood well up out of him in a stream. It looks like there is an artery that has scabbed over, and removing the plants removes the scab, opening the artery.

  I’m tempted to get Morgana to collect the blood in case I need it to heal him. With all that I’m able to do with water affinity, I know there must be more healing I can do to others with blood. Can I create a blood transfusion spell form? Can I somehow return his own vitality to him? I push the thoughts aside for now.

  After what feels like an eternity, I breathe easy as I discard the red-tinged water onto the sparse grass to my right. The last patient will be ok, but he’ll be weak for days. He’s white from blood loss, and there’s a small chance he might not pull through, despite my work. With nothing more to do, I stretch and look at my notifications.

  It’s not the most miraculous of upgrades, but there’s something comforting in knowing no one died, and more importantly, I didn’t have to risk my life or kill anyone to grow stronger.

  I smile, feeling the stat increases wash over me. The title will be a nice boost, but I am most excited about the increase in spell form. Through my practice, I had gained a little power, but now what would I be able to gain from the quest's rewards?

  I look over my options, and I can develop the spell in three directions: faster, larger area, or more mana efficient. I chose the area effect. All three would help make me a stronger healer, but a saturation effect would also stabilize the wound. There is a slight bump to the cost of the spell form, but it will be worth it in the long run.

  Right as I stretch and start to wonder what to do next, I see another guard approach.

  With a hint of command and respect, he says, “There you are, Lady Olivia would like to see you now.”

  I look around and see the headguard is nowhere in sight. It seems he had better things to do in the end than spend all morning waiting to continue his feud with me. I follow the guards for a short walk back to the cathedral. As we walk in, I see the villagers still huddling inside. Through my empathy, I don’t feel as much fear, but there’s a growing restlessness as everyone wants to return to their homes.

  I weave through the room to the same room where I met Olivia last night. Inside the room, Olivia is seated at the table flanked by Kurt and Benjamin, with Lucian sitting in the corner.

  Benjamin scowls across the table at me as Kurt keeps a neutral face. Lucian doesn’t react from his chair, but the axes leaning at either side of his chair speak of his readiness to jump into battle at the first sign of trouble.

  Much of the color has returned to Olivia’s face.

  “Hi Jason, let me start by saying thank you for healing me.” After pausing a moment, she continues, “We were wondering what your plans were now that the elves have been dealt with.”

  I rub my chin for a second, “I don’t know.”

  This seems to take all four of them off guard. “So, what were you going to do before you stopped here?” She asks.

  “Well, I stole a boat from the elves, and I was trying to get away. Honestly, now that I have some distance between the island I was put on and the elves, I’m not sure.”

  “What about your family?”

  “They are not in this world.” They seem to misunderstand my meaning, even if it is halfway closer to the truth than I would prefer. I don’t correct them.

  Maybe there is a chance they would believe that I died and reincarnated on this planet, but I don’t want to reveal everything to people I have just met.

  “Ok, starting from the beginning. I woke up on an island and found a bunch of elves killing a human. I fought my way free until I got a boat and sailed away. I think some of them escaped, and I’m not sure where they went.”

  “If they knew a dual mage was on the island, it’s smart you escaped. They probably went to get reinforcements, though I’m surprised they let you slip through their fingers. They can be very fanatical, as you have seen.” Olivia says in a calm, reassuring voice.

  The conversation continues for a bit as she asks for more details.

  “You mentioned an island. What was on this island?”

  “There was a fort, but it didn’t look like it had seen battle, just enough to keep the creature of the island back.” At least until I got there.

  “How far away was the island?”

  “I think it took me a day to travel here by boat, but I’m not much of a sailor.”

  “So, what happened to the elves on the island?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. I fought one to get off the island, but I got out of there before I had to find where the rest of the elves went.”

  “How long were you on the island?”

  “Not too long, I kind of arrived just arrived and stumbled on the elves.”

  “So, where were you before that? Where is your home?”

  “Ah, well, very far away.”

  “In which direction?”

  “Err… not sure, but nowhere on this continent.”

  As her questions wind down, she grins a big grin. “Well, let me welcome you to our continent, Jason.”

  Then she continues, “We were hoping to move towards my parents’ estate and do a few dungeons. We would be honored if you would join us.”

  “Um, sure. That sounds fun.”

  “We can officially register you with the city of Bragen. It sounds like this is your first time in the kingdom of Rueld. Have you registered with the adventurer’s guild?”

  I shake my head no, and Olivia claps her hands. “Ok, we officially have a course. We can head to Bragen and get registered.” I can see a warm smile on Kurt’s and Lucian’s faces, and even Benjamin seems to be lighter of spirit.

  After a short talk, I learn the city of Bragen is further inland, and her parents’ domain will be a few days' travel on the road from there. This means I’ll need to ditch the boat. I think about everything in the boat, and besides some very stale trail rations, I’m not sure there’s anything to bring. Most of the supplies are for survival, and now it will probably be more of a burden.

  I spent the rest of my day helping clean up the town and gathering supplies for my trip. I ditch the waterskin I used to hold blood and get a bundle of fresh skins. I keep my sword and shield, but also grab a bow and arrows from the dead elves. I plan to concentrate on training my magic and the related magical skills, but the battle made it clear that I shouldn’t neglect the physical skills either. It bothers me how bad my archery was during the battle. How much easier would the battle have been if I had made just one of the shots I aimed?

  As the day winds down and I have all my supplies from the village, I take two quivers of arrows and practice by shooting at a tree. After a few practice shots, I have to change my goal to shooting near the tree.

  As the sun sets, I make my way back to the boat to grab supplies there and scuttle the craft. Kurt and a few militia men help me pull supplies from the boat back to town. I keep a few days’ rations, some camping supplies, and donate the rest to the city.

  I later learn that Olivia and her team requisitioned a mule and cart to help carry supplies and spoils to Bragen. They fill up the wagon with half of the weapons and gear from the elves. The other half is given to the town.

  I swing back by Nan’s house to check up on the injured and learn that Nan shooed them away shortly after I left. When I approach the door to ask her where everyone went, the old kook throws some pots at me, but I get the story later from one of the villagers. I feel incredulous she forced everyone away, including three with the more severe wounds, but, asking around, I’m assured they’re in good health, resting at home.

  After gathering my supplies and putting them on the wagon, Kurt informs me Olivia is still recovering and will need to ride in the wagon. I offer to heal her, but he assures me her wounds are fine, she’s just drained. He also lets me know we’ll leave tomorrow, so I should take one more night to rest up.

  I thank him and wonder about the town for a while, trying to find opportunities here and there to help. At one point, I see the little girl Mia and wave to her. She waves back, but her mother quickly pulls her into the house.

  Bored and with nothing else to do, I find myself in front of the elf in his cage by the cathedral. I make another attempt to get him to talk. This time, I use my mental manipulation to slowly nudge him to open up to me. It feels a bit dirty manipulating someone’s mind, but I only want to talk.

  Something about both sides of this war not being able to talk to each other nags at me. How can there ever be peace if no one can communicate? Part of me doesn’t want to talk; he might spew justifications he’d have for attacking the town. Despite the risk, I know learning to communicate will come in handy. It could help me stop the senseless killing or give me the edge in future fights.

  Eventually, the elf’s shoulders relax, and he takes a lax position, at least as much as he can in his cage. It’s less from any effort on my part and more because he is just exhausted.

  “What are you doing?” Benjamin asks me as I stare at the elf in the cage.

  “I’m trying to see if I can learn anything from him,” I say with defeat heavy in my words.

  “Huh, I remember the guards saying something about that when you fought the elf at night. I thought they were just making it up.”

  I sigh before saying, “Yeah, I wanted to learn about their attack plans then, but now I just want to try to understand how to communicate.”

  “Well, their attack plan was… to attack… What’s there to understand?” He asks flatly.

  “I don’t know. I just feel like if I could have talked, then maybe I could’ve stopped the attack.” I look over and give him a deadpan look before he says anything.

  “Ok, I know I wouldn’t have stopped the attack. I just feel like there must have been something more I could’ve done.”

  The conversation pauses for a moment before he speaks up. “He’ll be worth the same amount of experience. As long as he stays in his cage, you can keep trying to learn from him.”

  I nod and try to reach out again with my mind magic while coaxing him to talk to me, careful not to attempt anything harmful.

  Once I’m out of mana, I find a place under the stars on my bedroll and gaze up.

  I look over to see Morgana beside me, staring up at the stars. She’s dutifully followed me most of the day. At first, she freaked some of the villagers out, but they adapted quickly. I’d been worried she might be hurt or offended by the villager’s reactions to her, but all I can feel across the bond is a focus on looking out for enemies.

  I turn to her and ask, “How was your day, Morgana?”

  With hesitation, she projects, ‘Sunny.’

  I snort. We had spent a lot of time in the sun, which was draining for her. “Yeah, but did you enjoy it?”

  ‘I was where I needed to be.’

  Again, my desire to give her a new life wells up in me. I slowly feed mana as I regenerate it across the bond, in hopes it will help. When my mana pool bottoms out from feeding mana to Morgana, I feel a bone-deep exhaustion. I drift off into the night.