Those two aims are not at all the same. Punishing the invaders might make me feel better, and perhaps would satisfy those of my village who have suffered from their attack which cut down their brothers and sister. But ultimately it will lead to most if not all of the Warriors leaving the village as soon as they can, returning to their own, potentially with thoughts of vengeance in their hearts. If I was staying here, it might be more viable but I’ll be leaving in less than two months, and as of yet, I have no alternative to my Bonds.

  Reforming the invaders would involve treating them firmly but fairly, obliging them to work to make up for what they did, but also offering rewards for doing so. It probably wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying, but by the time I leave, potentially some of the Warriors will choose to stay and would replace those we lost in the long term. Though that’s by no means guaranteed as they might feel that their duties towards their birth village are more attractive than staying here. But even if they do go back to their village, if they have been treated well here, they might think twice about attacking again in the future.

  I sigh, my mind telling me that I should aim for the second and its potential future gain instead of the first and its momentary satisfaction which could sour into future problems. Yet every time I consider reaching out to Shrieks to tell him that that’s what we’re doing, Flicks’ face appears before me. The closest thing to an apprentice I’ve had, she was cut down far too soon. And for what? The delusions of a leader and the hunger for power of several other Pathwalkers.

  I breathe in and out slowly, trying to control the grief that rises within me once more. I have something else to deal with: the village’s worth of samurans waiting nervously outside my gates.

  Seeing as Joy, Jumpy, Leafy, and Dusty are currently out in the fields and Tarra’s away, I search for who might be the best choice to help me with this. Spotting Flower and Sticks standing next to each other, eyeing the newcomers with a mixture of nervousness and resignation, I make a beeline for them.

  “Flower, Sticks, good to see you,” I say with a hint of relief that I won’t have to do this all by myself. I’ve got the Management Skill for a reason, after all! “We’ve got perhaps a hundred and fifty samurans here, though only twenty of those are Warriors and two are Pathwalkers. Do you know how the accommodation situation is getting on?”

  Existing huts are rebuilt, Flower tells me briskly. It went a lot faster when the invading Pathwalkers were given the antidote to the mana suppression poisons they were afflicted with. Earth-shaper worked with her sister from the other village to reestablish the shape of the huts, and then Wood-shaper and I worked with Plant-speaker and Plant-shaper to grow roots and sticks through the earth to strengthen them. They will be even stronger now than they were before.

  Sticks’ spikes flash in agreement and satisfaction.

  They are now going to repair the damage done to the farming areas, she adds.

  “I know,” I quickly respond before she can say any more. “I spoke to them on my way down. And I’m glad – we need to get our food production back up and running. So what you’re saying is that we have enough accommodation for the samurans we currently have?”

  Not exactly, Flower answers slowly. Considering the number of Pathwalkers and Warriors we have…taken, we are a little low on accommodation. The Pathwalkers have been obliged to share a hut–

  “Which they will continue to do until they have proven that they’ve earned their own individual ones,” I interrupt. Grower shifts her tail in agreement.

  That is the usual way of doing things, yes, but it is a little cramped nonetheless and we will need more huts for them when they do prove themselves. The Warriors are also all in a single hut, and this is not ideal, not from a perspective of comfort, nor considering that so many Warriors all acting at once will be very difficult to deal with if they choose to rebel.

  She has a point. Even if I intend to give them all Bonds, I can’t do that right now. And there’s this other group of twenty or so Warriors to deal with.

  “Alright, so we need a few more huts for the Evolved. And what about the Unevolved?”

  We did lose a few of our own, which opens up some space, but as you know, with the large hatching we had, we were already a little full. We simply don’t have the space for all of these Unevolved.

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  I nod slowly.

  “Alright, then. Let’s make some plans. You start drawing it out here. I’ll just let our new visitors rest and eat – do we have any carcasses?”

  The hunters have been bringing some in, Sticks answers, pointing at the hut we tend to use as a storage room. It stays pretty cool except on the warmest days and is emptied frequently, so we don't usually have to worry about things going off within the day. With an Ice-Shaper now one of our number, our ability to store carcasses has no doubt expanded significantly. I wonder how ice will affect the Energy drain over time, though…. An experiment for later.

  Collaring a group of hatchlings who don’t seem to have anything better to do, I send them to go and start bringing carcasses to the valleyside gates. They scamper off, happy to have a job, especially when I promise them a small Energy Heart fragment each if they’re quick about it. As they work, I walk over to the village of red tribe samurans.

  “Everyone, come forward and sit down in groups. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry. While we get your accommodation sorted, you can eat and refresh yourselves.” I pin Earth-former with a look that makes her swallow in sudden nervousness. “You can come with me.” I feel a surge of confusion and pleasure mixed with apprehension go through her. Still, she joins me at the gates. Earth-former tries to ask me questions, but she takes the hint when I ignore her in favour of directing the hatchlings to the groups of samurans who have begun to mill around in the treeless area in front of our valleyside gate.

  The hatchlings look adorable as they struggle under the dead weight of the carcasses, sometimes cooperating to carry a bigger carcass; sometimes a single determined hatchling trying to carry one all by himself.

  The Unevolved from the small red tribe village mill about in confusion at first, clearly not sure what to do. They look towards their sole remaining Pathwalker who, sensing my wordless instruction to be silent, doesn’t offer any direction. Without instructions from their leader, the Unevolved look at the Warriors next, who seem to be just as lost and offer them no guidance.

  The hatchlings, not having known anything but the convivial groups at dinner time and the ability to speak their mind to the adults without fear of chastisement, start chattering at the Unevolved.

  “You sit here, see? And sit with your friends, see? And you eat the yummy food,” I hear one of the closest hatchlings telling the adults next to him. “But don’t eat too much or you might get a stomach ache. I got one of those, but Tamer was very nice and took it away. But then he told me not to eat too much next time. So I didn’t. And I didn’t get a stomach ache. But it’s yummy, and it’s nice to eat with friends.”

  I sense the Pathwalkers next to me staring at the oblivious hatchling with as much incredulity as the Unevolved around him are. Yet all I can do is smile at the memory, the little hatchling who had been whimpering in pain as his belly cramped after he stuffed himself too much – as it turns out, samurans can vomit, but it’s a painful affair for them, so I worked with this hatchling to dissolve a bit of the meat he’d gulped down, his body taking my healing almost as well as one of my Bound. And afterwards, the sheer joy and relief I felt radiating from him…. I’ve never wanted kids, but that moment made me wonder if maybe they can be in my future one way or another.

  Slowly, one by one, the samurans follow the encouragement and instructions of the hatchlings, looking up at me and the Pathwalker next to me frequently at first, as if to check that they weren’t doing anything they’d be punished for, and then eating the meat ravenously as they finally accepted that it was OK for them to sit and eat freely.

  The sight fills me with both satisfaction and sadness. The sadness is for obvious reasons – no one should be this nervous about food. I still can’t believe that the Unevolved of the various villages haven’t kicked their Pathwalkers and Warriors into touch – or at least rebelled by eating food even if they’re not technically ‘allowed’ it. But perhaps I’m still underestimating the extent to which the Evolved, in particular the Pathwalkers are idealised.

  The satisfaction comes from two main sources. The first is that my own village no longer views food as something they have to earn, but more a basic right which they will be given for being part of the village. It brings me immense pleasure to see how the innocent hatchlings act – a sign that I’ve had a measurable impact. The second is that these Unevolved, who were blameless in the matter of the attack on my village, are finally getting out from under the oppressive thumbs of their own Pathwalkers. Not that many of them are still alive, but that, in a way, is irrelevant. They’re being exposed to a different way of living, and that fills me with a sense of rightness.

  Nodding, a smile tugging at my lips, I turn and start walking towards where Sticks and Flower are using sticks to draw in the dirt. They’ve been joined by Shrieks and, surprisingly, Smith. I look back at the new Pathwalker who is still standing and watching the spectacle of her Unevolved finally being given a meal that they didn’t have to sweat blood for first or ask permission from a Pathwalker to eat.

  My satisfaction turns darker, and my smile gains some teeth to it. I can’t resist needling her a little.

  “Come along then, Earth-former. Time to earn your keep.”

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