Nat stood there while the rest of the party just sort of… forgot he was standing there. That he might be scared too.

  He was increasingly confused — everyone seemed to want him to do something differently than he had been, but weren't telling him what, how, or why he should be doing it their way.

  Sure, he was angry with Ceress for a moment, but quickly realized that she was correct. He'd just done something incredibly dangerous — just looking at the ground told him that. But he had no way of knowing what was happening. His Talent — he scoffed internally at the word — rendered him insensate immediately after his actions. He couldn't know what had happened except by being told, or guessing.

  The way to solve this, as much as it grated on him to admit it at this particular moment of embarrassment, was to learn about his Talent. And based on the asides and hinting comments about a past that he was unaware of, Lyn and Moira knew more about him than they had said.

  With a simmering anger, mostly directed at his own passivity in his life, Nat resolved to address the questions now, while everyone was here and making plans.

  Only, apparently a small black ball of fur had plans of their own, as it leapt down from Ceress's shoulder where it had been perched, invisibly.

  His chagrin forgotten for the moment, Nat stepped closer to see what was happening; Lyn recoiled in surprise as the small felinid latched onto the arm that held Moira's speaking arc in its hand.

  The tiger Brin — Novek — shouted at that moment, “Siya! Stop!”, then after a beat, “Careful! He's just a kit!” That was obviously to Lyn.

  The flurry of activity did not stop — it clearly wasn't an attack of any sort — the small animal was just frantically trying to reach the sparking electrical arc in Lyn's hand.

  Lyn put a stop to that in the most expedient manner possible — they simply closed their hand and the arc vanished.

  The dark mass instantly stopped, and went calm, still stuck to their arm; staring at where the arc had been.

  Novek rushed over to take hold of the black ball of fur — which made Lyn take a half step back — his 230 cm or so to their 120 cm, at most, was probably somewhat terrifying in such a rapid approach. Nat got the same feeling just looking at Ceress — she was easily 270 cm, dwarfing even Novek — not to mention far more muscular.

  Having gotten his paws, gently, on what was now obviously a small kitten of sorts, Novek moved back from Lyn comforting or calming the animal — wait, that had to be a Ber.

  Nat's curiosity about the kit, and the — well, he didn't want to call it attack — attraction to Moira's spark, had him walking forward back into the discussion circle without realizing it.

  “Oh my goodness, he's adorable. What is he?”

  Novek cradled the kit in his paws gently, though firmly enough to prevent another leap. “Vodat kit. His name's Siya. Rescued him from some kidnappers, which was part of the reason bandits accosted us on the road. The other being the money from the sale of the scrav meat — that's in the coach, by the way, Lyn.”

  “Kidnappers? Ber'Duun, then?” Lyn had recovered from the ordeal.

  “I'm not sure. Their pack-mate didn't speak, but was either a very intelligent Ber or Ber'Duun. It died before I could ask any questions except one — apparently there are other pack-mates, but I don't know where. The bandits implied they had knowledge of them, however.”

  Ceress's gaze, intense but unfocused, locked on Novek. “You'd said something about that earlier, but I was a little distracted. Do you think the bandits have them? Or they were trying to get them?”

  “If I had to guess, I'd say both is likely. The pack was clearly searching for this kit at the village, but went murderous at dawn yesterday — then retreated. One came back, clearly trying to retrieve the bagged kit, but fell and was killed when it went wild almost precisely at dusk.”

  Lyn tried to take charge again, subconsciously gesturing along with their speech, “Speaking of which — dusk is coming soon. Ceress, you said you wanted to teach Nat. I'll need to be nearby at dusk in case another pulse comes — only Moira can shut his talent down if it goes out of control, and she requires that I be touching him. That means that Novek should probably keep the kit with him, for now — and Ellie, I'll come back over, and we'll do some therapy for the arm afterward. Okay?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Novek and Ellie both nodded. Ceress gave a quick, “Sure.” around a mouthful of scrav-kebab that she'd retrieved.

  Nat decided that it was time to take some direction of his training. “Okay, but if we're doing this, I want to understand what's going on. I don't need the long version, but I need to be informed enough to make good decisions. Stop holding back — I'm not nearly as delicate as you all seem to think.”

  Lyn paused a moment before answering with a double knock and a wave. “Alright. Let's go back to the original spot — I don't want the kit hunting me down and getting hurt.”

  Ceress provided an addendum, “Okay, let me put Hekkan down with Soot. I'll want to be back before dusk hits, to keep them, and the kit, calm.”

  Ellie called out to Lyn, “Oh, Lyn! Tanner got you a walking stick. Let me go get it for you.”

  “Oh, excellent. I'll wait here then. Could someone hand me a kebab please?”

  A few minutes later Ellie returned, with a two-meter walking staff, which Lyn accepted graciously — throwing their prior stick into the campfire. “Hmm, could use a little more cut off the length, but this is great. Thanks.”

  Ceress returned from ensuring her Ber would stay put, and the training party, with scrav kebab and fireproof blanket in tow, headed back towards the scrav attack site.

  Ceress looked at the site of the scrav battle — it hadn't been much of a fight, that much was obvious. The burrow hole where the scrav had lain in wait gaped nearby — it had certainly exploded out energetically. A short distance away, rocks and sand were stained by ichor in a fan pattern behind an obvious impact point where rocky shell had fallen in a small pile. Tiny scavengers were still picking through it.

  She snapped her fingers twice, and Lyn snapped hers once in return, summoning Moira.

  She made a whooshing breath noise and looked at Nat. “The big guy took a swing at you while you were in the recovery phase, eh? Poor thing had no idea.”

  “I assume. I couldn't see, obviously.”

  Ceress decided to go the complete opposite from how she assumed the Human had been treated. “Okay, kid. We've got an hour. What do you know how to do?”

  “Uh, I can activate and deactivate my Talent, turn it off early once I'm in. And move around if I really push hard. Also, if I hold hands with Lyn, I can talk to Moira.”

  Ceress raised an eye ridge, “Oh, really? Now that's interesting. Moira?”

  “He's got a Theronic affinity. It lets him sense and manipulate theromagnetic fields.”

  “Well now that's not usual for a Human at all.” She turned to Nat, “Come here, and turn around, please.”

  Ceress put a hand up behind Nat's head, and extended her claws. “Put your hands over your ears, please, and then tell if you feel anything.”

  Nat did so, and after a few seconds of waiting, she ignited a single claw. No response.

  She lit another. No response.

  She lit the remaining three on the hand.

  “Oh, that tickles!”

  She flicked them off one by one. When two remained lit, Nat responded, “I don't feel it anymore.”

  Ceress then put her other hand up between his head and her claw, and re-lit one of the original claws.

  “It's back now, I think?”

  “Yep, okay, if it was heat you wouldn't have felt that last one. That's not bad for a Human. A silverpaw would put you to shame, but they cheat.”

  “Cheat? How so?”

  “They use electrical fields as carriers. They can use the two in tandem to detect and manipulate the alternative field type. That's how she gives Moira a voice, if they haven't explained that yet. Moira disturbs the aether, and Lyn transmits the signal from the theromagnetic field to the electromagnetic.”

  “Oh, I was wondering how that worked. Very cool.”

  “It is. The problem is that any other electro or theromagnetically sensitive entities can listen in on the signal. It's not encrypted or obfuscated. It's literally just sound waves.”

  Lyn took the bait, giving a dismissive gesture with one hand, “One would have to be nearby, and care enough to listen.”

  Ceress looked at Nat and said, “We have a disagreement on just how much attention this might draw. And nearby is relative. I don't think this applies to you yet, Nat, but keep in mind that anything you say to Moira can be overheard.”

  Moira decided that was worth a response, “While she is not incorrect, Nat, it is an overstatement to imply that what I hear is subject to broad surveillance. It is true there could be a few entities that might be interested, however. I will stop you myself if I feel you're about to say something over the line. I can respond far, far faster than any of you can speak.”

  “Okay. Nat, back to it. You said you could exit your Talent early. Do you know how to simply not activate it for the full duration?”

  “I've been trying, but no luck.”

  “Okay, go stand a few… five, go stand five meters over there, and then try this. Just do a little hop, and try to make it so that your Talent lasts only the duration of the hop, by default.”

  “Um, alright. Sure — I'll try.”

  His first few hops didn't seem to work, but on his fourth he came out of his stasis form excited.

  “Oh, that worked! Neat.”

  “Now just practice it — the trick is to vary the thing you use to indicate the duration. If you always use a hop, you'll teach yourself to hop when using it. That's bad. Instead, try a few different things, like clapping, so you learn to adjust the time, not have a significant tell for your Talent. It might save your life.”

  “Great! Thanks so much. Now, I have a question of my own, if everyone doesn't mind.”

  “Sure, what would you like to know?”

  “What did everyone mean earlier, about me being frozen or in stasis?”

  Ceress blinked her inner eyelids once. She'd barely caught Lyn's throwaway comment.

  Oh. The poor kid.