Ain't no motivation like knowing you got everything on the line, and I most certainly do.

It don't look that way on paper, as most would say I got a whole lot more than what I got here. Like all the property I maintain up in my daddy's Quay. That's technically mine, and in the event of my death, it'll go to Aunty Ray, Tina, Chrissy, then the Marshal in that order. All worth a pretty penny mind you, with all the hard work already done for anyone looking to stake a claim on the Frontier and the only thing left to do is move on in. The only reason it's all still sitting empty however is because I ain't done nothing to attract any buyers. The opposite in fact, so even though I'm technically the trustee set to manage these properties in their absence, any money obtained through the sale of said properties is mine to do with as I please, making me a very rich man. Filthy rich in fact, though I still gotta turn the land and property into money first, which is easier said than done.

I also got an Aetheric Condenser up on the mesa, which pretty much prints money in the form of crystal Aether. All I gotta do is stock it with biomass in the form of honey or some other calorically dense substance that's easy for the Condenser to break down without any fuss, and bing bang boom, it'll pump out enough crystal Aether to keep me fed, clothed, and housed for the rest of my livelong days. My family too, though we won't be living the high life or anything like that, not unless we go full hog and invest our Aether into the slot machine that is Magical Materials and hope the Condenser spits out something useful and marketable. That ain't neither here nor there though, as all I'm pointing out is that I'm pretty set as far as money is concerned, so much so that the only reason I actually need to work and earn is so I can have cash on hand instead of taking a huge loss selling crystal on the black market.

That ain't all either. I got a lot of value in gear, like guns, tools, the Big Stick, and the wagon itself, not to mention four horses, four cattle, and a flock of kiccaws that don't seem to be of much use for anything, not even eggs. Hell, even my Spellbook would fetch a pretty penny on the open market, provided I write out my notes in proper English instead of using a mix of shorthand and Qinese to keep it brief, and a fortune on the black market if I sold all my restricted Spells to boot. Not just Fireball, as that's merely the only Spell I was able to learn after putting six months of effort into it start to finish, and I got plenty more on the backburner just waiting for me to figure out.

Now I ain't saying all this to brag or nothing. Alls I'm saying is that if I stopped working today and just lived off selling what I got, I'd be better off than most folks who're working a 9-5. Better than most Rangers even, though that ain't saying much as they're criminally underpaid for what they do, though they do get to play with all the best big toys that Uncle Sam's military-industrial complex can churn out. Thing is, I don't consider none of the stuff I just listed off as having any real value. It's worth money, sure, but them's the tools of the trade, and truth be told, I can't be all that fussed with selling none of it. Just look at the quay. 39 buildings and not a single soul living there besides myself, all because I'm dreading the day I put an ad in the papers and gotta deal with all them prospective neighbours. Same goes for selling Spells, because legalities aside, the general practice of selling Spell Formulas comes with the caveat of offering at least some help to get the buyer Spellslinging right quick. I ain't doing that though, because we all seen firsthand how terrible a teacher I am, what with how I went off on Errol for not following instructions.

The man made a huge mistake ignoring my instructions and trying to go his own way. There's no denying that, but that don't excuse my behavior after the fact, as I could've handled it in a myriad of ways that didn't involve literally shoving his face into the mess he done made.

So long story short, I don't put much value on assets or net worth. That's all just numbers on a page that don't mean much of anything at all, because all the money in the world won't stop some outlaw from taking it all away, or the federal government from confiscating your 'illegal' Aetheric Condenser, which is really two sides of the same coin. At the end of the day, the only things you got of real value are your own personal skills, experiences, and one thing I've only recently added to the list, your relationships. Family is worth more than their weight in Mithril, because so long as you work hard and accrue currency, then you can always buy more Mithril.

That's why I say I got it all on the line here. After years of taking what I got for granted and these last few months of burning bridges, the only real family I got left to me is Chrissy, Tina, and Aunty Ray. Makes a man real nervous to know that the three remaining people I hold near and dear to my heart are in danger out here, and not just the standard danger of the badlands. Said it before and I'll say it again, but the real danger of the Frontier don't come from Abby and Proggies. Dealing with them is simple enough, which ain't the same as saying it's easy, but at least it's straightforward as can be. Kill or be killed, with nothing else in between, which is about as black and white as it gets. In contrast, the real danger comes from all those shades of grey you run into when working with people, because you can't just kill them all and let God sort them out no matter how much you'd like to.

Doesn't sit well with me at all, leaving all them Qinks alive behind us, not when I got the lives of all that I hold near and dear to my heart on the line. Problem is, killing those Qinks would've put my family at risk all the same, because it's not like they would've stayed hidden and Invisible while I fought off a veritable horde of Qin Vanguard all by my lonesome. Heavily armed Qin Vanguard at that, with guns and gear I ain't ever seen, so even if I dropped a Fireball down on half of them and opened up on the other half with the Big Stick, I doubt I could've gotten them all just like that. They wasn't all drunk, bunched up, and celebrating how that they done just chopped off my hand, but instead were spread out in a few lines while facing down my guns and prepared to act at a moment's notice. A Quickened Fireball is fast, but not faster than a draw, and even Readied as it was after the fact, I only could've hit maybe thirty Vanguard with the Fireball if I placed it perfectly. More to the point, about half of those would've had a good chance to get out of dodge. While unleashing a Readied spell is instantaneous, there's still a good bit of delay baked into Fireball itself as it takes a moment to build up to unleashing that blossom of heat and flame.

About a half second, which ain't a lot of time, but you can add another half second on top because even if you still inside the area of effect after that first half second, you still got some time to get out before you burned to a crisp. Might well get cooked a little or a lot, but you won't be dead so long as you move out of that 6m radius sphere that makes up the Fireball's area of effect before the Spell kicks into high gear. Someone like Jinfeng or that Sword Saint back there could've gotten out of dodge with ease, and even your average joe can cover a whole lot of ground when properly incentivized to, and believe you me, they knew what was coming and were ready for it. Them's the breaks of using a highly popularized verbal and somatic component for what might well be the most widely recognized Spell, especially when said Spell can be dodged.

Best case scenario? I take out 15 Vanguard with the Fireball, then use the Big Stick to knock that same number off their feet and maybe kill half that. Which still leaves a whole lot of Vanguard left to kill, and something tells me they wasn't ready to go down easy like them shooters who took out my daddy up on the mesa. A bad fight to take, no two ways about it, and worse was riling Abby up after the fact, but we was stuck between a rock and a hard place back there, and I did what had to be done. I let them Qinks go free, spared their lives and hopefully sent them running for home, but what makes people so tricksy to deal with is how they ain't at all predictable. A reasonable commander would've hightailed it out of the badlands quick as a bunny once he learned what's what, but something tells me little lord fatty back there wasn't all that reasonable. Seemed like he was calling the shots, while the Sword Saint was just there playing nursemaid, and while I put a real good hurt on both of them, I'm not sure if I put them down hard enough for Jinfeng to take over.

And it's not like I can even trust her. Far as I could tell, she was just as surprised by the Qin Cadre appearing in the dead of night, but for all I know, she was the one who brung them right to our doorstep and helped circumvent all our protections. The good cop bad cop routine as it were, acting like she was all reasonable and helpful in suggesting they send my family on their way only to take them hostage once out of sight so they can be used as leverage against me later on. That's a very real possibility, because you can't trust a Qink, except to trust that they'll do what's best for them and their Republic.

And in this case, if what's best for them is to bring me back to their great General, then I gotta assume they gonna come for me all the same. Even if they need me alive, which I can't take for granted, they don't need Chrissy, Tina, or Aunty Ray alive and well. Hell, if it was me in their shoes, I'd make sure to kill at least one and injure the others so that my target can't get away with his loved ones all that easily. He'd have to leave them behind or risk recapture moving with one or two wounded, especially if I take away the Spell Components needed to cast Floating Disc.

This right here? This is why I like Tim so much. Sure, he spends more time than he ought to considering all the angles of a shot he ain't ever gonna take, but the only real difference between him and me is that I know better than to voice my dark thoughts out loud. Which might change in coming days, seeing how Tim's more socially accepted than I am now. Means my rep has pretty much hit rock bottom now, so there's really nowhere to go except up.

The last hints of early morning brain fog clear up with that realization, and the fact that I just noticed I'm still sandwiched between Tina and Chrissy. Means Aunty Ray either decided to keep watch all night by her lonesome, or there's something wrong. Course, my mind goes to the worst-case scenario as I slip out from between the girls and head for the opening to our little nook in the rocks to see what's what. Stopping well short of the entrance and still within reach of the disgruntled pair behind me, I take a deep breath and calm myself because there ain't nothing that can be accomplished by running out like a chicken with its head cut off. If Aunty Ray's in trouble, then running won't save her any sooner, and if they're holding her as bait to get me to poke my head out, then I could be greeted by a Bolt as soon as I show my face. As such, I move to the side of the entrance and peer out to see what I can, which ain't much given the sun ain't wholly up just yet.

But it ain't nothing, and it don't take much to pick out Aunty Ray's silhouette as she moves low and steady from cover to cover, though I would bet dollars to donuts what I'm seeing is an actual Illusion. Can't rightly tell in the pre-dawn gloom, and truth be told, I probably wouldn't be able to tell in full light. Even though she earned the nickname Siren for her skill with Enchantments, she is and always has been an Illusionist first and foremost. It's difficult to say how she excels, because it's not like shooting where you can measure how fast and how accurate you can hit your target, or strength of arm with weights lifted. An Illusion is an Illusion, but there are Illusions and then there's Illusions, and Aunty Ray is a master of the latter. I seen her put on a whole stage show all by her lonesome, creating a lifelike 40-man orchestra complete with a stuffy conductor that looks like he could use a lot more fibre in his diet. Add in a choreographed light show, a bevy of backup dancers, and a whole closet full of wardrobe changes, you might reach the limit of what she can do while belting out show tunes like a pro.

So in comparison, a single lifelike Illusion of herself skulking around ain't nothing to write home about. It's so good, even knowing it's an Illusion doesn't let me see through it, because while my mind knows it can't be real, my soul or spirit or whatever it is I see Illusions with can't rightly make sense of it all. I don't really understand the mechanics behind it, and I'm not sure if anyone does, but in all my years here on the Frontier, I ain't ever seen a better Illusionist than my Aunty Ray.

Even then, I take great care before heading out as I scan the area for signs of where she could be, but she one ups me by spotting me lingering at the entrance. "Not much to report out here," she says, her whispered words coming from somewhere to my left, but even then I can't take for granted that that's where she'll be. I've used Minor Illusion myself often enough to throw my voice and make sounds where there ain't none, so something like that would be trivial for Aunty Ray even while maintaining another Illusion. "Abby made a bunch of noise all through the night until about ninety minutes ago, then nothing. Might want to ready up with your Detection Spells and do a sweep before coming out. Better safe than sorry."

In case Abby be watching and waiting to see if the one person they found gonna lead them to more. They do be cagey like that, which only goes to show that maybe Abby ain't as simple as I profess, and how Aunty Ray still got that killer instinct even though she been stuck at home for 18 years. Abby can be a little complicated, even dumb Ferals, but they're still much simpler than dealing with people, who could also be watching Aunty Ray's Illusory self and waiting for an opportunity to strike, but I didn't clock no Darkvision goggles or scopes in my admittedly cursory sweep. Even then, the Qin are more than likely to learn the Spell outright, as they all got a yearning for learning and Spellslinging alike. Might well be their collective dream to become the next Qinese Immortal Monarch so that they can uplift the Republic from their lowly plight of having to negotiate with lesser races and nations.

Then again, I'm pretty sure every government of the old world has been racing to raise their own Immortal Monarch. Even though Aetheric Bombs can void everything in the blast radius out of existence and leave nothing but an ash stain behind, an Immortal Monarch is still an asset unlike anything else. Longevity aside, there's supposedly a world of difference between them and an Archmagus, someone standing at the penultimate pinnacle of the magical arts who's capable of casting at least 3 Ninth Order Spells. So much of a difference that standard practice was to send 5 Archmagi to fight a single Immortal Monarch, and more if you wanted a chance of killing them. The Prussians had some small success executing Immortal Monarchs with their Archmagi Kill Teams, highly trained elites who utilized cutting edge magic and technology to bring down their foes, but they suffered massive casualties each and every time they clashed with a target.

And fact is, most got away, though not always clean. The Immortal Monarchs who stayed did so because they had something to fight for, like the Bharathi Immortal Monarch who died waiting for backup from the Qin Immortal Monarch because the Prussian hit squad threatened to turn the city of Ludhiana to ash if he left. They made the same threat to the Qin Immortal Monarch a few months later, only it was the city of Chong Qing, and they followed through with the threat after Tian Zi up and left anyways. Didn't help him none because the Nipponese Immortal Monarch was ready and waiting in the wings with Amaterasu to deal a blow that would eventually take his life.

World War Two made for some crazy times, and I gotta say, horrific as the Nazi's might've been, they was real forward thinking when it came to bureaucracy, tactics, and adaptation. Granted, most of that forward thinking came from non-Nazi Prussians who laid the foundation which the Nazi's made use of, namely a quality education system which focused on both magic and technology and unearthing talents for each while they was still young. Fact is, the Qin modelled their system after the Prussians and dialed it up to 11, which is why they done took my daddy from his parents at the tender age of 6.

As for me? I say I'm Frontier born and Federation educated mostly because it rolls off the tongue. I learned some stuff from Aunty Ray early on, like letters, numbers, animals, and whatnot, then went to school with the other 6 kids our age until I turned 8, at which point my daddy pulled me out to teach me himself. Not that he wasn't teaching me before that, like how to do math in my head using a mental abacus, the best way to memorize a whole lot of information real fast, and most importantly of all, the methods of visualizing and conceptualizing the flow of Aether, whether it be the flows of a Spell Structure or those out here in the real world revealed to me by Detect Magic.

Of which there ain't much to see, while Detect Aberration pings back with bogeys in almost all directions. Nothing close enough to concern us though, so I finish casting my daily suite of Spells before striding on out to greet Aunty Ray. Who I still can't find mind you, not even with Detect Magic going, but that's only to be expected. If Illusions were so easily countered with a single First Order Divination Ritual, they wouldn't be of much use now, would they?

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

So I treat the Illusion as the real Aunty Ray and give her a big smile, because I don't want to risk a hug giving the game away. While she might be a good enough Illusionist to trick me into thinking I got some tactile sensation when interacting with her Illusion, there's no point making her work extra hard in case there's someone watching. "We clear up to about a klick and a half at the worst, but don't got much of any Abby at all up ahead on our route. Most probably caught on to them Vanguard's trail after I made all that noise and are hopefully following them down south."

Knew I left them alive for some reason, a joke I keep to myself because I know Aunty Ray wouldn't appreciate it, but she can read me like an open book. "Listen," she begins, quirking her lips as she thinks about what to say, only it's an illusion of her doing that which means she got the capacity to ponder her words and manipulate her Spell at the same time. "I know you got your issues with your – with the Qin, but there's somethin' I think needs to be said." Real telling that she corrected herself before calling them my people, because while I typically insist that I ain't Qin, I don't think I've ever really taken issue with anyone calling them my people. All I do is correct them, so if she's stepping that lightly, then she must think I went real overboard when dealing with them in general.

Which ain't a pleasant feeling really, to know that the woman who done raised me is so concerned about my behaviour that she's taking measures not to rile me up. Can't even look at her illusion, so I busy myself checking my kit even though I know good and well I went to bed fully equipped except for the Judges, which I grabbed on my way out the door. Can't fool Aunty Ray though, who says, "Look at me now." Ain't no steel in her tone, one which is soft as honey and twice as sweet, so I glance up to meet her big blue eyes which are just brimming with love and concern. "I get that Republic soldiers killed your daddy, and it burns me to know that their killers are celebrated as heroes, but you gotta remember Howie, there's a difference between the Republic and its people." Stepping in close with her Illusion to make sure I'm paying attention, Aunty Ray continues, "It's one thing to take issue with the Republic, but them people back there? That's all they are. People. You can't hate them all for what their government done Howie, no more than you can hate a man for the color of his skin, eyes, or hair."

"Ain't their looks I got issues with," I retort. "I don't hate the Qin because they Qin. I hate them because of what being Qin means to them. They all in for the Republic, do whatever it takes to see them prosper as a whole, so you can't expect them to behave like regular people with their own self-interests in mind. Just look at what we just went through. They sent a full cadre of Vanguard over to recover three bodies, then sent a second cadre to bring me in to stand trial or whatever. And my crime? For not working for the betterment of the Republic, like I somehow owe them my time and effort just because my parents were born in a nation I ain't ever set foot in. It's ridiculous, but that's what they believe, each and every one of them even Jinfeng."

"I know," Aunty Ray says, maintaining eye contact without so much as blinking, and even though she's the closest thing to a mother that I've got, I can't help but look away. "And you right to be upset about that, but that don't mean you gotta hate them as a whole and start shootin' 'em on sight. You really mean to do that Howie? Just kill a man who happens across your path solely because he Qin?"

Rather than answer, I try to justify myself as best I can. "You know how many Qin I've come across in all my travels? Outside of those we met on this trip, and that run in with the General when I was twelve, I can count on one hand how many Qin I seen. If I start seeing more moving on forward, you can bet your bottom dollar it's cuz they there to bring me in." Or worse, because even though I don't know much about the Qinese legal system or military law, I'm guessing that resisting arrest and shooting the officer sent to bring me in warrants more than a slap on the wrist.

"Still don't warrant a shoot on sight policy, now do it?" Aunty Ray is adamant about this, because to be fair, blanket policies like 'kill all Qin' tend to send the wrong message. "Have your guard up maybe, avoid contact sure, but 'kill 'em when you see 'em' is a hard line to take." Pursing her lips, her Illusion heaves a sigh as her real self gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze to let me know she's there, an action made so tenderly I ain't even surprised by the unexpected touch. "Even if you mean to, sayin' as much don't help matters none, now do it? I told you that you need to start watchin' what you say Howie, because now when those folks go home and talk about what happened, they all gonna think you got a real hatred for them, when Jinfeng made it sound like you was somethin' of a role model even from so far away."

"She said a lot of things," I grumble, resisting the urge to reach up and hold Aunty Ray's hand, if only to make her feel better about all this. "Who knows how much of it was true? Could've been working with that other fella to put on a show, make me think she was on my side when in fact she only cares about the Republic."

"Might could," Aunty Ray replies. "Or maybe she was bein' genuine with her offer to bring you back and see what's what. Me, I ain't so sure about it now, but I was thinkin' it might not've been the worst thing in the world if you went south with her come spring. Not alone of course, as you'd need someone to watch your back, but I'm sure your Uncle Teddy would've loved to send a team with you and a diplomat of sorts too, you know, to try and reach out."

I'm sure he would, and that's probably the only reason he'd care to have anything to do with me. Ain't me being dramatic, but the truth as it stands, and a bitter one at that. Wish things were otherwise, but not enough to go back and change what I'd done, or at least not enough for it to matter. If given the chance, I would've gone with fire instead of Acid to spare Uncle Art's feelings, or just destroyed any evidence of torture or other such war crimes because that's not great for the reputation. Really wish I'd've shot the other deputy, the one that wasn't an undercover asset working with the Rangers to bring down the Sheriff, but even if the dearly Departed Corey Macintyre had several more months to gather proof of Sheriff Barone's crimes and the Rangers brought him in, the Puglianos would've just put another puppet Sheriff in place and carried on like usual. One dead innocent in exchange for the end of an entire criminal enterprise seems like a small price to pay, and to most, it is, but it's all a matter of perspective, because I'm pretty sure Corey's wife and three kids think different.

That there is a butcher's bill I've been terrified to face, because I don't rightly know how I can look a woman and her children in the eyes and apologize for unjustly killing their father. Collateral damage sounds so neat and tidy until you take a close look at what that damage really is.

Which is why I ain't made any effort to make up with the Marshal. Ain't because I don't want to call him Uncle Teddy no more, but because I don't deserve to. That is my penance for my crimes, the price I've chosen to pay, because those children lost a father, so I deserve to lose one too. Might not mean much to them, and they might not even care, but I'll do it all the same if only so I can look at myself in the mirror every morning when I'm brushing my teeth. Even then, I can't really manage it most days, but that's neither here nor there now is it?

"Well, guess it's a shame it ain't gonna happen," I say with a shrug, before lying through my teeth and adding, "Though it wasn't gonna happen either way. I got no desire to head south and see how the Qin live, or make nice with the man who's likely responsible for my daddy's death, not now and not ever." Before Aunty Ray can get a word in edgewise, I press on and say, "Sure, Jinfeng claims the General didn't have nothin' to do with it all, but them Vanguard take their cues from him all the same, and it was clear he didn't like my daddy none. The first time we met, he told me to stand at his side where I belong, and if I did, then he'd spare my 'unworthy father's dog life'. Those exact words mind you, to a twelve-year-old he done just met. You ask anyone who was there, like that purple tentacle monk, and he'll tell you I ain't said nothin' but the truth."

"I know," Aunty Ray replies, all calm and collected as can be. "Your daddy told me all about it, and how you racked a round in your Bashere Black Eagle in response. Oh you should've seen the smile on his face when he told the story, and it got a real rise out of everyone else too." Didn't know that, because he done scolded me after the fact, said that even though they wasn't all that friendly, that was still my mother's brother and therefore should be treated with respect unless hostilities broke out. "And of course I ain't advocating for you to head down there anytime soon, not after what just went down. Alls I'm saying is that there was a point where I didn't think it was the worst idea ever, because like it or not Howie, your parents were Qin, and learning more about your roots ain't all that terrible. At the very least, it might help you see how someone can be patriotic without being wholly on board with everything their country does. Just look at them Vanguard back there."

"You mean the ones who surrounded our wagon while we slept then held us at gunpoint while threatening to bring me in for being AWOL from an army they believe I was born to serve?"

Even I have to admit I'm layin' it on a bit thick, but Aunty Ray takes it in stride. "Yeah, them. They were soldiers following orders, but when push came to shove and you shot their commanding officer and the little guy who was really in charge, they didn't all draw down on you, now did they?" Giving me a look through her Illusion which I still gotta remind myself ain't real, she adds, "They had every chance to do so while you was casting your Fireball, and even more time after Jinfeng tackled you down, but didn't no one even think to threaten your life as you stood there and made like you was about to take theirs. That's gotta count for somethin' don't it? They wasn't scared silly or frozen in shock Howie; they stayed their hand because they didn't have orders to kill you, and in fact had orders expressly forbidding it, and they was willing to die to see that through."

Same as my daddy's killers, but I killed them all the same, and I might well have slaughtered all them Qin in a rage if Jinfeng hadn't gotten in my way. Just goes to show I ain't ever been all that good at learning lessons from my daddy, because he done scolded me for doing just this with his dying breath. "They are your people, Hao'er." That's what he told me while he was bleeding out, a truth I been denying ever since because it's so much easier to hate them. He told me not to though, said that the Qin people were only misguided because they'd been lied to all their lives, and that I should show them the truth through my actions and accomplishments.

The Qin ain't my enemy, that's what my daddy told me. There might be some Qin poised against me, like that fatty back there and his toady of a Sword Saint, as well as whoever's pulling their strings, but the Qin as a whole? Nah. That's what Aunty Ray's trying to say here, and why she's so displeased by what I'd said back there, but I still can't help but want to shoot every last Qin I see from here on out. Would make things so much easier, at least until I kill the next Corey Macintyre, just a guy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and paid dearly for it.

"I hear you," I say, stifling a sigh as I rethink my plans moving forward. "I ain't gonna kill Qin on sight. Terrible idea that is, but I ain't gonna roll out the welcome mat either. They don't get no trust, and even if I can verify their intentions, I ain't gonna stick around long enough to be disappointed either. They get the same treatment I give any other strangers in a hot-zone, no more, no less."

Which ain't saying much, because I do all that I can to avoid interacting with strangers out in the wild Frontier. It takes all sorts to make a go of it out here, and most decent folk find jobs that don't need them to go a wandering out and about in no man's land, so you just know anyone you meet has got something wrong with them. Take me for example. I hunt in the badlands because I need on the job training and the easiest way to get it is to challenge myself. I could make bank just hunting gobbos and orcs in the Coral Desert, set up a killing ground and run Abby into them day after day after day until I run out of ammo or Aether to cook with, but that won't help me improve none. Here in the badlands, every trip over every mile is always different, and you gotta always be on your guard, especially if you out riding solo. That sort of vigilance hones my perception to a razor's edge, and that alertness and awareness that I done trained has saved my bacon more times than I care to count.

"That's better," Aunty Ray says, squeezing my shoulder three times right quick. "I knew you'd see reason easy enough; I just really wish you was more careful with what you say." Patting my cheek while her Illusion gives me a sad little look, I hear her sigh before she continues. "I know things have been tough this year, what with you coming to terms with not being a Ranger and losing your hand, Marcus, and Josie too, but don't none of that mean you can't still be the man your daddy raised you to be. Being the Firstborn wasn't about turning you into a soldier, but just a good man for people of all nations and races to look up to, an example of what those born on the Frontier can achieve. Lately though, I seen you working double hard to distance yourself from the Rangers and the Firstborn, which is fine if that's what you want, but I'm worried you overcorrecting in all the wrong ways."

Which is the closest she's come to voicing disapproval of what I done, even though I know it don't all sit well with her. Don't sit well with me either, but it had to be done, and I don't know what to say besides, "I'll do what I can to do better moving forward Aunty Ray." Feeling safe enough to reach up and squeeze her invisible hand three times, I add, "Promise."

"Good to hear." Which ain't the same as good to know, because she knows me better than I know myself and believes I'll have to work hard to keep that promise. I try to use that to motivate myself to keep at it, but that's easier said than done. To get away from the awkwardness, I hold out my hand and scan the surroundings again with Detect Aberration, only to find that ain't much has changed. "How wide an area can you scan at once?"

The question comes out of nowhere, and I take a moment to think on the answer. "When I hold up my hand like that? Five by five feet maybe? It's a real narrow band, but a quick sweep gets me plenty of information, enough to know where to go slow and take a closer look."

"But you can't do much else while you scanning?" Aunty Ray asks, and I give a little shrug and a nod because that's more or less right. Can barely hold a conversation while I'm scanning for Abby like that, because it takes a whole lot of focus and Concentration with a capital C to narrow the Spell down so far. Not for no reason either, because a tighter beam means it's less obstructed by physical barriers, allowing me to sense Abby even through a few feet of dirt if I pan over them slowly enough. "Try going wider," Aunty Ray suggests, "Covering an area that's maybe five or six times bigger. Might make it easier to maintain, giving you a better picture of what's going on at all times compared to the standard Spell, and you can still always narrow it down for even more information whenever you like."

Which is a great idea, one I should've thought of myself for a plethora of reasons. Not only is it handy to get more information out of the Spell than what I otherwise would, training magic is a numbers game that boils down to time spent. Since I gotta be hyper focused to maintain that tight beam of Detection, I don't do it all that often, or at least not constantly like I would prefer. A wider beam that's easier to maintain though? With a little practice, I could have that sweeping in all directions at all times, which is pretty much an upgrade to the Spell at the expense of added Concentration.

Just goes to show how valuable a Mentor is when it comes to magic, because even if it seems simple enough, it ain't all that easy figuring out the best way to move forward. Chances are Aunty Ray's done something like this herself, enhanced a Spell through use of focused Concentration and realized that sometimes less is more. "Thanks Aunty Ray," I say, filing that bit of information away and eager to get on it right quick, but there are more pressing matters to handle first. Like bleeding the lizard after a long night of sleep, but I gotta make sure she's still up for keeping watch. "How you holding up? You didn't wake either of us up for watch, and while I know you wanted to let us rest, you gotta make sure you getting enough sleep too. You are our Heavy out here after all."

The last is said jokingly, but it ain't far from the truth. Even though that ain't one of the roles she trained in, she's got the magical muscle to go toe to toe with most Evokers. Granted, she's only got the one Spell in Phantasmal Force, it's so versatile she can tailor it to almost any situation and come out on par or even on top of an equivalent Evocation Spell.

Assuming Abby don't see through it for the Illusion it is of course. That's the major difference between Evocation and Illusion. With the first, it either hits or it misses, and that's that, but with Illusion, you could hit a target and still whiff all the same, which makes it technically less reliable. Abby ain't known for their smarts though, especially not Feral Abby who are the dumbest of the dumb, so Aunty Ray still counts as a Heavy out here, able to throw out a couple Invisibilities and Major Illusions to keep her going all throughout the night without so much as breaking a sweat. Least not that I can see, and Aunty Ray's Illusion gives me a smile and a wink as she says, "I'm still fresh as a daisy. Had me a nice nap in the driver's seat while we was riding away, because I figured you were gonna push hard to get some distance between us and the Qin." Glancing back towards East-South-East, she adds, "Can't help but notice you didn't bring us in a straight line away from the Divide though. We gonna continue on this course, or you thinking about curving back around to head due west today?"

"I'm thinking it's best if we zig and zag a bit." The badlands are pretty desolate, but that don't mean it's easy to spot a tail, and without a Detect Human Spell to fall back on, I can't use magic to find out if there's anyone close by. "Not so sure if they're willing to give up all that easy, and like you said, better safe than sorry. Stay unpredictable so we don't get ambushed from ahead, and take our time going slow and steady so the horses and Cowie stay fresh as can be." In case we gotta make a run for it, which might not even have anything to do with the Qin, as Abby do seem all riled up what with all the various small groups running this way and that. That's only what's aboveground mind you, and I guarantee there are at least ten times that number moving underground, because the Proggies of the Divide done got their noses tweaked by two cadre of Qin, first Jinfeng's when she was coming in from the south, then that little fatty's cadre who couldn't sit still while waiting for me and mine to come out off the mesa.

And while Ferals might be dumber than bricks, Proggies are on whole nother level entirely. Even without a Synapse Abby around to take direct control of other Abby and give them orders in real time, Proggies are more than capable of giving their minions complex instructions that help them cover a wide range of scenarios and then some. Could be all those scurrying Ferals are just running around willy nilly without reason, but I'm guessing they're all moving in pattern that would look obvious once plotted out. Maybe searching by grid or possibly even encircling an area so that they eventually spot anyone passing through, at which point they all converge upon said target like a noose around a neck. That's why I don't mind taking things slow even though earlier I wanted out right quick, because Abby already knows we're here, and if they're setting a trap, then we're already in it. Thing is, the trap won't go off until we try to leave, so the longer we can delay that eventuality, the higher the chance that the Proggies done decided the juice ain't worth the squeeze and recall all their Abby before they done eat all the goop and biomass they got stored up in reserve

And the higher the chance that any would-be ambushers of the human variety catch Abby's attention first, leaving me and mine free and clear to mosey on by while they duke it out in the distance. That's the best-case scenario really, and with so much on the line, I ain't willing to settle for anything less, not when the alternative is to risk the lives of the three people I hold most dear. Come hell or highwater, I will get them all home safe and sound, else I will reign hell down upon the Qin for what they have wrought and show them the error of their ways.

Still might, if I'm being honest, because even if I get everyone out safe and in one piece, they done messed with the bull, which means it's only right that they get the horns.

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