Planning for my departure has been in my mind for a while now, ever since the days started warming up and I realised that we were heading for summer again. And I’ve felt the pressure even more since my status screen told me that I had less than ninety days to go before the portal would open.

  I’ve been racking my brains to figure out how I can keep the village the way it is even when I’m not here. But maybe I was asking the wrong question.

  Maybe the question is less about how to keep the village the same, and more to do with how to offer the village and the samurans I’ve come to know and like the best parth to their future success.

  And honestly, that question rings more true with me. I went into HR because I wanted to help people grow and I thought that that would offer me a way of doing it. I learned over time that Human Resources isn’t actually as much about humans as I thought it would be, and was instead more about the resources they could provide – and how to get as much of those from the employees as possible. And where offering training or career development would help the company increase the value the employee could offer, those two aims were in tandem. It was only when the good of the employee went counter to the good of the business that I had a dilemma.

  Even then, I always did my best to find a middle ground, a compromise that might not suit everyone perfectly, but was just acceptable enough to all members. Whether I was dealing with unions, dissatisfied employees, dissatisfied managers, or my own colleagues, I sought the satisfaction of everyone.

  And thinking back to it, maybe that’s why I never got higher than a mid-level HR employee, who eventually got shifted into dealing more with statistics and documents than people. Because companies don’t want the middle route. Companies want as much as they can get for as little cost as possible. At least my company was that way, and I suspect most are the same. My boss, known as the Ice Queen, was notorious even beyond the company for playing hardball. It was actually a threat we’d used when negotiations were breaking down – ‘deal with me or you’ll need to deal with my boss’. Rarely did we ever have to follow through with that.

  But all of that is old history now, events of almost a year ago. And considering what has happened since…losing my job was probably the best thing that happened to me. Though I’ll wait until I find out what’s waiting on Nicholas’ world to decide – since the pit stop was an abandoned forest full of bloodthirsty beasts, I’m not ruling out the possibility that a nasty surprise might await me. For all I know, he’s looking for gladiators to fight in death matches and this year is just a long training course for the trials ahead.

  Well, if it turns out that Nicholas isn’t who and what he said he is, or has some horrible plans in mind for me, then perhaps I’ll have a few surprises for him.

  I shake my head, finding my thoughts have wandered far from their intended path. Where was I? Oh, that’s right – forward planning for the samurans. But then maybe I don’t have the right to make plans for this world after I leave it. After all, I won’t be here.

  I’ve opened the samurans’ eyes to a whole different way of life – the representative system which is kissing cousins with democracy is only the start of it. A day off per week. Combat lessons for everyone. Opportunities to develop crafting skills which don’t require magic. An economy based on Energy Heart fragments which themselves can be consumed to make progress towards Evolutions guaranteeing that they never lose value. Multiple assistants for each Pathwalker hopefully helping the Unevolved to develop inclinations towards certain abilities upon Evolution. Furniture, armour, creature comforts….

  The village of today is almost unrecognisable from the village of yesterday. And perhaps it’s time for the samurans to decide for themselves what they want to maintain and what they want to be rid of. After all, it’s their life, their home. I’m just a visitor.

  I have a sudden nasty thought. Am I a colonist? The word carries so many negative connotations with it now. The people who travelled to far-off lands only to try to transform them into a microcosm of the country which they had left, often at the expense of the natives.

  I swallow dryly as I force myself to consider it fully. I’m a temporary visitor to this world, but I’ve imposed so much of my belief system and values on the natives here who have lived for who knows how long without needing to change.

  Yet they seem better for it. It’s a poor defence, but one that I cling to. There are more hatchlings this year than ever before in the villagers’ living memory. There are more Pathwalkers than when I came; more Warriors. The Unevolved are no longer on the edge of starvation if they fail to accomplish their tasks for a few days. The Pathwalkers are more involved in the every-day life of the village, not spending half their days squabbling and arguing with each other over minutiae. Many of them have been inspired towards innovation, looking for beauty or better solutions for problems. The Warriors and Unevolved train together, creating a much larger force able to defend their village against attackers. For all I know, even if I hadn’t come to my people’s rescue, they might have succeeded against Flying-blade’s group of Pathwalkers and Warriors thanks to the advantages they now have.

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  But maybe it’s right that I won’t be leaving the ability to Dominate other samurans in the hands of anyone here. Maybe my departure will be a signal for the samurans to start making their own decisions and, yes, to do things differently. To take what I’ve taught them and make it their own. Even if that makes something completely unrecognisable from what they have now which is yet different from what they had before.

  Maybe there’s a far better Skill I can leave them. After all, my Flesh-Shaping has come in extremely useful to both me and everyone else. I consider trying to imprint Energy-Manipulation, but decide not to. Not now, and maybe not ever. Although it’s the Skill which has allowed me to help many samurans Evolve who otherwise wouldn’t have, that’s only with it paired with Dominate and an understanding of my own about how internal matrices work. If it fell into the hands of someone who wanted to use it to harm others or who didn’t understand enough to use it properly….

  And even if it was used well and for good, that would still tilt the power balance way too much in someone’s favour – gate-keeping the ability to Evolve would become very tempting. I’d rather not leave that temptation here once I leave even if that means many Unevolved are unable to overcome their natural limitations. Perhaps, if the new societal ‘classes’ stick around, being an Unevolved for life might not be the desperate experience it was before for most.

  Nodding slowly, I pick up a hemispherical Energy Heart which looks like pink quartz. This is one of the flesh-aligned Energy Hearts I made earlier – to me it’s logical that I have the best chance of imprinting a flesh-aligned Core with the Flesh-Shaping Skill. Though that’s only if the differences between beast Cores and natural Cores – of which my Energy Heart here is one, even if it’s been formed on demand rather than by chance – aren’t so great that only beast Cores are suitable.

  Holding the Energy Heart on my lap, domed side upwards, I find myself at a loss of where to start. Kalanthia just willed her imprinting of Lathani to work, and probably didn’t even consider the possibility that it might not. I’m not capable of such unquestioned self-belief; maybe I will never be. But that can’t be a limiting factor, surely?

  Closing my eyes, I activate my magic sight. Suddenly the world dissolves into the interwoven tapestry of glowing lines which I first saw when I began engaging in meditation – before I even had the Skill, if I remember correctly. Now, of course, it’s far denser than then, so many lines of different colours filling the space around me that I might even be able to walk without bumping into anything – I can see where earth-magic gives way to air-magic, the threads almost outlining everything in my room. Almost, because not everything is contained within the object it physically is.

  The Energy Hearts, for example, almost blur at their edges as their tendrils of magic reach a little past their outer shells. The beast Cores too, though the distance their tendrils extend beyond their physical bounds seems to vary more than among the Energy Hearts.

  Curious about the differences, I look more closely at each of the Cores before me, both natural and beast. And there, I make a discovery.

  The natural Cores, the Energy Hearts, look so much…purer than the beast Cores. The Energy within them is calmer, even within the fire- and air-aligned Cores. There’s a flow to all of the natural Cores which is harmonious and all but flickering with power.

  The beast Cores, however, rarely have much flow to them at all and where there is movement, it’s definitely not harmonious. Honestly, it reminds me more of the fluctuations of my own Core, the way the Energy moves within the sun at the centre of my personal solar system.

  Seized by a flash of inspiration, I slip into my own Core-space and go straight for the area of densely-woven threads which I’m pretty sure form my Flesh-Shaping Skill. Studying it intensely for a long moment, I then return to the outside world and stare deep into the heart of the natural Core weighing heavily on my lap.

  I nod unconsciously in satisfaction as I confirm what I was thinking: that there are a huge number of similarities between the way the Energy flows within the Energy Heart and the pattern of threads in my internal matrix.

  And perhaps it’s instinct more than conscious thought, but I somehow gather an impression of the whole of my Flesh-Shaping Skill and press it into the Energy Heart in my lap.

  I feel resistance, a stubborn blockage, but I set my will against it and push. Much like I might pry free a lump of cholesterol from a blocked artery, or force a patina of plaque on a tooth to release its grip.

  Pain shoots through me. My eyes fly open, unseeing as it feels like something is being torn from me. Like that lump of cholesterol has ripped part of the artery away with it as it is forced to move, or that plaque has insisted on taking the tooth with it.

  I can’t help wondering with a pang of fear whether I’ve played the fool – what if I’ve just damaged my only healing technique?

  And then, with a sudden surge of increased pain quickly followed by relief – as if a dislocated arm has been returned to its socket and is now merely throbbing dully instead of being filled with agonised fire – something settles into place.

  My fingers are shaking as I lift them to wipe the tears of pain that squeezed out of my eyes. And I can tell from the nagging feeling now prodding at me that I have a notification waiting for me.

  here!

  here!

  here!

  here