We all feel it the moment she dies, the faint sensation of her presence in the network of Bonds vanishing like a light has been turned off. Her body crumples to the ground, even the Bond’s commands failing to keep her frozen in place now that there is no subconscious to control. Her eyes are bloodshot and vacant, but there’s otherwise little indication of what has just happened to end her life.

  The rest of my Bound are frozen, the newest members of the network unconsciously sending feelings of shock, fear, disbelief, and confusion across the Bond. My villagers aren’t much better, though I do sense hints of satisfaction and relief joining the emotional melting-pot with a flicker of sorrow coming from Flower.

  I don’t blame them. It’s the first time I’ve actually killed one of my Bound, let alone in such an…intimate way. I have to swallow hard a few times to keep the contents of my stomach where they should be. It’s not that I had any close emotional connection to Flying-blade, but we were connected, soul to soul, and I killed her.

  I don’t regret it. Or rather, I regret the necessity, but not the actual action. Her attack on my village was enough justification for her death, though I’d hoped she could serve her sentence in a more useful way. Something which offered the opportunity for redemption as well as justice. But in the end…she was just too much of a danger.

  Not just to me, but to everyone else. I’m lucky that she was under the influence of the mana inhibitor and couldn’t use her powers to attack me. Unless I kept her wrapped so tightly in the chains of the Bond that she could barely even breathe without my permission, she would have multiple opportunities to kill me, and clearly her will was strong enough to push past the Bond’s limitations enough to carry it out.

  And even if she didn’t succeed with that, she had made it clear that she didn’t care who else she would go through to seek my death. What if she put poison in every carcass in the hope that I would eat one of them and die? Or upon getting access to her magic again, what if she exploded into a storm of flying sharp-edged objects which might rip through my people as much as it might slice my own throat?

  No, she was too dangerous to keep around. But that doesn't take away the fact that I was deeply in the Bond at the time of her death and felt far too much of it to be good for my mental health.

  Stepping forward breaks the spell that seems to have been cast over us since Flying-blade’s attempt to kill me. Eyes flash towards me as I approach the fallen samuran, many fearful. I try to ignore that even though it hurts with a dull pang inside my chest. I suppose it’s inevitable. I’ve just demonstrated how easily the combination of the Bond with my healing arts can kill, after all, something that perhaps even my own people hadn’t realised. They’re used to me using my abilities to heal, not hurt.

  I’m abruptly not interested in exploring the secrets of the black crystal. Not wanting to touch it for now, I use a piece of spider silk fabric I pull out of my Inventory to wrap it up so none of it is touching my skin. Checking with my magic sight, I nod in satisfaction when the crystal remains inert even as I pick it up – apparently the cloth barrier is sufficient. I thought it might be since Flying-blade had been using a leaf wrap to hide it before.

  Standing up, I look around at the people surrounding me, mostly samurans from four different villages. We’ll have to deal with the samurans from the small village we went to help when they arrive too.

  It abruptly feels like too much to manage, the weight on my shoulders too heavy to bear.

  And then someone steps next to me, her claws digging into the dirt. I know who it is before I turn my head to look at her. I smile humorlessly, grateful for her presence despite my sudden black mood.

  “Let’s return to the village. We have a lot to do before nightfall,” I say ostensibly to her, but loudly enough that everyone can hear me.

  We do, River agrees quietly even as the samurans around me start bustling into motion, perhaps fearing that if they don’t move fast enough, they’ll be the next corpse on the ground, nothing but bloodshot, vacant eyes to show that they’re dead. But our people are safe and free thanks to your actions today Markus, remember that. Flying-blade came to kill our villagers and capture our Pathwalkers. Without your insistence about training the Unevolved, more Warriors would have died. Without your den, there wouldn’t have been a defensible location to retreat to. Without you, the death toll would have been far higher.

  “Without me, there wouldn’t have been any attack in the first place,” I tell her bitterly, though quietly.

  River clicks in annoyance. There are always reasons to attack. Any village which succeeds in growing faces those who don’t want them to grow too much. If it hadn’t been this reason, it would have been because of Wind-whisperer. Or our greater numbers of Pathwalkers. Flying-blade perhaps believed in her cause, but I doubt that everyone did. Most of them probably saw an opportunity to grow their own village at the expense of another.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” I admit with a sigh, “I just wish…” I just wish Flying-blade hadn’t forced my hand. I didn’t want to kill her, I say plaintively, switching to sending the message to River privately. I don’t want anyone else around me hearing my regrets. My weakness.

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  River looks at me, compassion flowing across the Bond between us. You already gave her more than she deserved, she answers gently, also privately, her spikes tightly controlled and giving nothing away to any onlookers. Anyone else would have killed Flying-blade to begin with. You tried to give her a chance. It’s not your fault she refused to take it. You are our leader; you acted on our behalf. That’s all that matters.

  It doesn’t lift the weight off my shoulders completely, but it does lighten it enough. I give River a small smile, sending my gratitude down the Bond to her. Then, focussing my attention, I take control of the situation – as a leader should.

  We return to the village en masse, my Pathwalkers and Warriors keeping a careful eye on those who have most recently been our attackers. The newly Bound are less of a concern than those who have merely been obliged to give their word to not attack, but they all appear docile and subdued. The frightened glances sent at me speak volumes as to why.

  I try to ignore them, focussing on what needs to be done next. River’s right. Flying-blade was offered more mercy than anyone else would have granted her and still she spat in my face. I shouldn’t feel guilty for executing her, yet I do. Judge, jury, and executioner…I’ve come a long way from the HR drone who had to pass any serious disciplinary option over to my superiors for approval.

  Seeing the corpses of too many of my people, samuran and not, is enough to relight the flame of outrage in my chest. I might have appointed myself as executioner, carrying out a sentence which I set, but the samurans now held as prisoners within the encirclement of my people have already proven themselves to be willing to murder those who never offered them any harm or insult.

  “Your first task will be to return what you have destroyed to good condition,” I tell the group of samurans, seeing both fear and defiance in their eyes. “What you can, anyway. Nothing will return the lives we’ve lost.” A flicker of regret pulses across a Bond, but it’s too quick for me to be able to identify who it came from. I turn my head to look at my own Pathwalkers and Warriors. “Each of you guide one of them. Make sure they work hard to put right as much as they can. Perhaps then they’ll see the cost of their power-hungry actions.”

  How can we do anything with this poison running through us? demands Water-former spitefully, glaring at me. So sure that I won’t do anything to hurt her because of her village leader, the leader of the whole red tribe, her eyes are free of the fear which flickers through her sisters’.

  I glare back at her. “Use your hands, your backs. You’re not getting your magic back. Not now. Not for this.”

  Several of the Pathwalkers take a step back in horror.

  You would deny us our magic? exclaims Plant-shaper in horror. You can’t do that to us! We’re Pathwalkers; your equals!

  My teeth grind together, fire starting to flicker unbidden between my fingers even as the earth groans softly beneath my feet. The Pathwalkers who are the focus of my intense glare take another couple of steps back. The yellow that flickers through multiple spikes suggest that they might be recalling what so recently happened to the last of their sisters who crossed me.

  “Until you have earned the right to be treated differently,” I say softly, doing my best to maintain control over the magic which yearns to explode forth and destroy those who have hurt my people, “you are lower in the rankings than even the Unevolved who you killed so easily. You will obey any of my village who gives you an order, whether it be Evolved, Unevolved, or non-samuran.”

  Several of the Pathwalkers appear cowed by my anger, the other healer among them. But Water-former still seems to have a sense of invulnerability as she continues to push.

  Barbaric! Just what we might expect of one not truly of the People, no matter how graciously you’ve been received by my sisters! Even Pathwalkers taken in a raid are treated better than that, given the honour our Evolution has earned us! Not treated like…like….

  “Unevolved?” I suggest, the white-hot fire within me abruptly turning into liquid nitrogen. My fingers itch to just rid myself of her ungrateful, murderous presence. But I hold back. She’s done no more than she had when I made my decision to spare her not long ago. She doesn’t deserve death. Not yet. But if she continues pushing me, there are other options.

  Yes! Exactly! It’s an insult my village leader will not countenance. She’ll bring Warriors and Pathwalkers from all the villages of my tribe and sweep your pitiful village away!

  I’ve had enough. My glare is replaced by a teeth-filled grin. Though my teeth are blunt, by the way Water-former takes a step back and those around her show a deeper yellow in their spikes, they recognise it as the threat it very much is.

  I stride forwards, my speed of movement easily covering the ground between us before my target can stumble back more than another pace. Those around her draw back further. Perhaps they sense the ice-cold fury within me which is only held in check by the shreds of my willpower, already sorely tested today.

  I reach out and grab the Pathwalker by the back of her neck, sliding my fingers between her spikes and gripping tightly enough that I feel the vertebrae groan slightly in protest. Water-former cries out and several of the captured Warriors near us step forwards, their hands going to where weapons would normally be. Right now they’re unarmed, of course, but I don’t feel like getting into a fight right now with those I haven’t been able to Bind.

  “Stay back or die,” I snap at them, flashing them that ghastly, toothy grin. All but one steps back immediately; the last stays in place, but at least he doesn’t step forwards when I start pulling Water-former towards the edge of the trees near the village.

  What…what are you doing? Water-former demands, her mental tone abruptly ringing with uncertainty. Where are you taking me? She tries to resist but her strength is nowhere near a match for mine.

  On the edge of the trees, I release her, practically throwing her forwards. She stumbles a few steps, catches herself on a tree, and then turns to look back at me, fear finally trickling into the Bond.

  “You want to be treated better? Fine. Go and find your tribe leader.”

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