—Orion—

  I gently returned to consciousness, exhausted but otherwise in good health. The lack of pain was surprising, as the last thing I remembered was excruciating agony. I opened my eyes and was surprised to see that I wasn't dead, my surroundings still the same, and the campfire I had lit still burning strong.

  I froze as I realised that there wasn’t a blade in me anymore, and the dagger was now glinting in the fire's light a metre away. It also looked like my wound had been treated with some more bandages, made from what looked like my shirt. The simple impossibility of the situation made my head spin with wild theories, each more unlikely than the last.

  I looked around the dark hallway for more clues, seeing nothing new except for Sally sleeping by the fire. An impossible idea flitted through my mind, but I dismissed it just as fast, the idea that Sally—an infant drake—had removed the dagger was ridiculous.

  Though that only left a couple of other possibilities. I might've managed to reach the end of the dagger and press the button myself, bandage the wound, and lose enough blood in the process that I didn’t remember a single moment of it. Or that someone came by while I was unconscious, removed the weapon and left before I woke up.

  But it seemed impossible, who would come down here and bother to save me? I can't imagine anyone kind-hearted enough to do that, and even if someone did, why would they leave before I woke up?

  The other option was just as unlikely. I could vaguely remember trying to reach for the blade’s hilt, and failed because I simply could not stretch far enough. That wasn't a problem that I could've solved through brute force, even if I'd ignored the injuries I would've gotten in the process.

  The two most likely reasons for my survival had become dead-ends, and there were no more clues that I could see nearby. So, I left the conundrum for another time, and turned my attention to the sleeping drakeling. With a sigh of relief, I saw that almost all of her wounds were healed, and felt happy for once that I’d been given the Path.

  That’s much better than last night. Though the missing health and empty MP would suggest that my wound is still healing.

  I carefully pulled off the cloth covering my abdomen to inspect the injury, and saw that the hole from the night before had closed. It'd become an angry mess of red flesh, criss-crossing connections of scar tissue holding the wound shut. The sight was distressing to see on my own stomach, and it implied that my talent hadn't had the chance to finish healing me. It only took seven points of mana to fully heal, I must've been bleeding out for a while before the dagger was removed. Until it fully healed, my ability to use mana will be constantly sapped.

  Without MP my arrows were inaccessible, which was concerning, as it made my main weapon redundant. Well, it would be if I had my bow with me at all. Now that I had the mental clarity to assess my resources, I never had my bow on when I got ambushed.

  The situation was much worse now that I was deprived of my main weapon, all of the skills I use for fighting can only be activated when I have a bow. It was one of the biggest flaws of the Path, skills being restricted to certain conditions, especially so now—when I found myself without a bow.

  But the direness of the situation was forgotten when Sally let out a yawn, my attention immediately drawn towards the infant. With a stretch reminiscent of a house-cat, the drake dug her claws into the ground and arched her back.

  I smiled as the drakeling properly opened its eyes, taking in the world and investigating it with what I could only describe as child-like wonder. It was a positive change from the constant fear and sickness from the past day. It was almost like none of it had ever happened for her.

  Eventually her gaze landed on me, and without a hint of hesitation she ran up to me, investigating the wound by sticking her face close to it. She even prodded it with a claw, the sudden prick making me instinctively twitch away from her.

  Immediately after my movement, Sally froze, before slowly looking up at me with trepidation. When her gaze reached my eyes, she reared back, as if I was going to do hurt to her.

  Ah. She hadn’t realised that I was awake.

  With a hiss she retreated to a safe distance, and I took the opportunity to see how her wounds were coming along. Thankfully it seemed that [Soul Bond]'s upgrade to [Self-Healing] had fully healed her, with only a few small blemishes remaining on her scales.

  Hmm… What to do until my mana recovered enough to begin moving. I thought about the few times I had to do animal rehabilitation as a part of Father’s tasks. There were a few tricks I could use to help her warm up to me a bit faster—food usually works the best. But that had already failed if her aggression was anything to go by, and I didn't have more rat meat to try again.

  With a groan I stood up, stretching my neck and back to get the stiffness out of my joints. It truly didn't matter how many times I've camped rough—without bedspread or tent—it never gets more comfortable.

  But I noticed that as soon as I started standing, Sally was instantly spooked. Even more than when she realised I was awake, cowering and tensing up, ready to flee if I moved too fast. Without a moment of hesitation I lowered myself onto the floor, flat on my stomach and with my chin resting on the stone, I observed Sally.

  My sudden actions made her… hesitant. More accurately confused, but that was an improvement compared to fear.

  I didn't shift any more immediately after that, and over the next minute the infant drake slowly relaxed, her aggressive stance melting into cautious curiosity. In preparation for the next step, I moved my hands up from my sides and to under my head, making sure to move casually and slowly.

  After another minute of letting her get used to my new position, I began the next step of the operation. I slowly moved my right hand towards Sally until she started to show signs of discomfort again, a childish and frankly cute growl coming out of her mouth. It would be a lot more likeable if it wasn't a sign that she was planning to bite into my finger if it got any closer.

  But to distract her and help her relax, I started to tap and twitch my fingers in a way that immediately captured her attention. Her eyes tracked the weirdly erratic movements, her hunting-focused brain forcing her to pay attention. The trick worked because most predators had minds that just couldn't ignore the genetic need to chase anything that resembled an injured animal wriggling.

  The distraction worked wonders with cats of all sizes—and drakes as well, if it did this well every time I tried it. But while I entertained her with the right hand, my left began to creep around the other side, slowly getting closer until her head swivelled around to it, her growl returning as she spotted the new threat.

  Again I repeated my strategy of twitching my fingers like unearthed worms, but this time the left was the distraction to get her comfortable again, while the right slowly crept closer to her.

  I repeated the process until both of my hands were within reach of her claws, with the little drake seeming both confused and disarmed at the situation. She prodded my right hand with a claw as she investigated the twitching limb with a couple of touches and a closer look. Becoming more relaxed, she started to swipe at it, gentle enough that I could only see the action as playful.

  Upon seeing that she felt comfortable enough to touch me, I poked her back with a finger, earning me a growl directed at my face.

  Encouraged by a bubbly sensation blooming in my chest, I poked her again, and then she copied me, the two of us continuing the strange ritual until all pretences of aggression left her body. It almost seemed like she was trying to win the interaction, like it was a game of some sort. Though it didn’t take long for her to get too excited, and almost bit one of my fingers.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  But just before her teeth ended up in my flesh again, she froze before blood could be drawn—I wasn’t too surprised and wouldn't've been upset if she had. It's part of the process, and I was happy to let happen for her to get more comfortable. But she acted hesitant, surprised that she was doing something that came completely natural for her to do. She quickly turned away after the awkward pause expired, and tried to stop interacting with me altogether, but it left an opening that I used to strike.

  When she looked away from me, my hand crept up to the back of her head, and ambushed her by scratching the scales between the side of her head and her neck. I watched as she was initially confused and perplexed by the sudden sensation, before beginning to enjoy it.

  It did seem that she liked it, judging by how she relaxed and melted into the palm of my hand, chasing the sensation. It didn’t take long for a throaty purr to start emanating from her, and I took it as permission to continue.

  For a few minutes my fingers roamed across her scales, finding the places that she seemed to like the most. I quickly learned that her favourite spot was under the chin, near the back of the jaw where her neck joined her head.

  But after five minutes I stopped, resting my fingers while I waited to see how she would react. She shook her head and looked around for a few seconds, but once she realised what'd just happened, she hissed and retreated. She fled before I could even consider touching her again, and went back to how she was acting before, as I feared she might.

  It was interesting that she became so lost in the sensation of being scratched that she lost track of her surroundings. I know many animals enjoy a good itch, but none that I'm aware of stop being aware during it. It was a liability that evolution would've quickly removed on earth.

  It could be a bonding or care mechanic for when it's young, something that helps parents soothe and placate infants when they're stressed. If it is a tool to help her to relax—like a pacifier for a human baby—then it's something that'll be useful for when she gets stressed again. I don't want to see her limp and lifeless again, or anywhere near how distraught she was after I… found her.

  It might be a good idea to do it whenever I got the chance, it should help her become more at ease with my presence and imprint onto humans. But I will hold off until I understand better, I would hate to do it too often to only learn that it could have detrimental effects.

  But with Sally having already walked to the other side of the campfire, putting as much distance between us as she could while still getting the fire's warmth, it'll have to be left for later.

  I almost moved back to where I was sitting before, but decided to sit in another spot to avoid sitting in the puddle of dried blood. Another check of my health and MP showed that I still had an hour before it recovered enough for me to feel happy about exploring. Mana tended to recover slowly, and how fast it returned was dependent on [Wisdom], roughly at a rate one-tenth of its value. Another few hours and I'd have five MP, but waiting that long for a resource that I couldn't fully utilise was a waste of time. Until then, I rested my body, knowing that this'll be the last chance I have to relax for a while.

  ***

  A sudden ding from the Path caused me to open my eyes, and with a thought the notification that’d bothered me was floating before my eyes.

  [A mutation has occurred!]

  [[Snake Eyes]: your eyes have begun to change, influenced by the existence on the other side of [Soul Bond]. The first notable changes being a change in pupil shape and better night-vision]

  I squinted in confusion, surprised that the first change that the Path had hinted at—most likely—a day ago had already begun. Though night-vision would be essential for survival in these caves, given that I had no supplies for torches and Elio wasn't here to cast his [Fairy Lights] spell.

  Especially when I was the main protector of the two of us, it’s very lucky that this was the first change that happened to me. I had planned to just use my lighter for a few seconds at a time when I had to, and walk in the darkness until I found something to turn into a torch. I don’t believe that there was a realistic way out of this situation without this mutation.

  I looked at the quickly dwindling campfire, realising that all of the remains of the chair had been used up, and that moving in complete darkness will be inevitable. I decided to take the plunge on my own terms, and with a stamp of my boot the fire was extinguished, my vision instantly turning black. For a few moments I was terrified that I had misunderstood what the mutation meant, and that the night-vision I had gained wasn’t strong enough for this lightless cave.

  But after the painfully long pause—where I blinked as hard as I could to speed up the process of adapting—I eventually could see in a grainy greyscale version of my normal vision. It was objectively worse than what my vision would be on a sunny day, but compared to seeing with just a torch or campfire for light, it was far better. I could see much further with the night-vision than with a small fire, but without a light there was no colour. Shapes and their edges had become harder to pick out than before, making it difficult to spot individual rocks on the floor.

  But it still improved the situation from hopeless to having a fighting chance.

  Now is a good time to move, if there's a fight my mana won't be very useful even if I had more, without a bow I couldn't use it to attack, and there was already enough to survive any fatal injuries.

  I prepared to leave, picking a random direction to walk, picking up the golden dagger to use as a weapon, and tried to grab Sally to hold her in my arms. The drakeling wasn’t big or old enough to walk very far, she might've improved greatly since not being able to yesterday, but not enough to travel any distance on her own feet. But as I slowly tried to shimmy my hands underneath her, she immediately hissed and moved away from me, acting like she did before the fall.

  I stood back up and wondered how exactly I was going to make this work. I didn't want to use the scratching trick, as that would end badly the moment I stopped, and would probably make her more wary of me.

  I decided to take a few steps down the path I had chosen, to see her reaction, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her follow after me. But when I turned back towards her, she flinched away, increasing the distance she kept between us.

  After giving a few moments of thought to possible solutions, I decided to start moving. Either Sally would eventually get too tired to move, and either I could take care of her once she had exhausted herself, or she’ll let me pick her up. Both outcomes are satisfactory as long as she follows me.

  After ten metres, and forcing myself to only watch her stumble after me without intervening, I silently offered my arms. She rejected it loudly with a hiss.

  I stood back up and kept moving, waiting until she stumbled again. It didn't take long for her to fall over, almost stubbing her nose on the way down as one of her feet got caught on a pebble.

  I knelt by her once again, and tried something different this time, vaguely inspired by the idea that most birds prefer to sit on shoulders rather than be held. Maybe wings made it uncomfortable to be picked up.

  With one arm outstretched I tapped my shoulder with a finger, and hoped that her intelligence would comprehend the invitation that I’ve extended to her. She tilted her head and after a few seconds of hesitation, she put her talons onto my arm, and I hid the wince of pain from her talons easily piercing my shirt and the skin underneath. After a few more painful steps up my arm, she reached my shoulder and I prepared to stand up.

  But before I could, she continued to climb, placing her talons in my hair as I flinched from the much greater pain of her claws in my scalp. Once she’d secured herself a nest in my hair, I carefully stood, every tilt of my head causing her to clench her talons.

  Whilst extremely painful, it was only that. Painful.

  I could work with that, if it meant that Sally was comfortable and willing to keep touching me.

  With the little drake secured, I picked up the pace, only ever stumbling once as I adjusted to the new vision. But after only a few minutes of the peaceful walking, the environment began to change, the angle of the path I was on changing from a flat passage to a continuously growing slant downwards.

  Eventually the increasing verticality settled at ten degrees, but small streams of water from above began to collect in little slits carved into the edges of the bottom of the canyon. Most likely a product of the passage of time carving a new way for the water to flow. But I frowned as drips of water began to fall onto my shoulders, not enough to drench me, but the stone floor was becoming slippery.

  Before I could get any wetter, the openness of the canyon came to an end, and the only way forward was a true tunnel, thankfully with a roof. It was a strangely smooth circular hole about two metres in diameter, while cramped, it was not tight enough to make it uncomfortable to walk in. It also went downwards at a decline double the rate of the hallway. With a deep breath I started the descent, making sure to slightly crouch so Sally didn't accidentally get hit by the roof.

  It didn't take long for it to come to an end, the tunnel opening up into another space without a visible roof, the cylindrical chamber stretching up into nothingness. The bottom of it was covered in a layer of murky, fetid, swamp water, the layer of scum floating on its surface obscuring everything below it. Directly across the pool was another path onwards, with twenty metres of water between us and the next exit.

  From somewhere up the mountain rained a constant drizzle of water—which I hoped was clean. After a few seconds of consideration, I stepped into the water, sighing with relief as it only went up to my ankles. Foul but manageable, the sensation of the water soaking my socks bad enough that it gave me goosebumps.

  I sunk my other foot into the slightly too viscous liquid, and began to walk across the pond, taking care so I had no chance of slipping and falling over. But after only a couple of steps, a loud creak stopped me. I slowly looked around for what could’ve caused the noise, but didn't see anything new. But then a crack from my right drew my attention to a disturbance in the water.

  As I squinted in a vain attempt to see what was beneath the water, it broke through the surface.

  An un-breathing figure with the head of a rotting deer sat up, water seeping out holes in its hide as water drained out of its lungs. Looking closer at it only revealed that it physically couldn't be a living thing. It had the pallid complexion of a corpse, its skin puffy and peeling off in patches. While the body was mostly humanoid, the head changed into a completely deer-like shape from the shoulders, reminding me of how the Minotaur was described in books.

  With an unnatural crack the head twisted towards me, and its mouth opened with a groan, gunk pouring out as its ripe, swollen eyes locked onto me. It made me think of how Elio used the word ‘monster’—and that this thing truly deserved that scorn.