Symon stood apart from the others in the forest, staring down at his Ledger written in rotting leaf mulch and twisted roots. It was warm, as it almost always was in the Wastes, even outside of the desert proper. At least the ring of dead trees surrounding him hadn't lost their leaves, the dead ancients still providing him some relief with their shade.

Others from the village must have come through here, but there was neither a sign of their passage nor bodies to be found. It felt to Symon like he was somewhere that humans were not meant to be, somewhere impossible, ancient and beyond their comprehension.

He frowned: maybe the strange evolutions he'd been offered were creeping him out. Looking around, the forest just looked like a normal forest. He didn't recognise any of the plants from Earth, but he probably wouldn't have recognised many bushes from his home planet, either.

The trees were the right colour, and the leaves were a patchwork medley of green, orange, and brown. It would have been a perfectly normal, Autumn forest if not for the ever-present heat and occasional distant monster cries. His friends hadn't been attacked while he was inside the barrier, but they'd heard plenty of far-off fights.

"So… any idea what the hell is up with these evolutions?" Symon asked. Almost all of them were something he'd expect the Dark Lord of Evil Villainy to be overjoyed at, but many of them didn't fit him at all. "Aren't they supposed to be tailored to me?"

<Yes, they are. I've got no clue what is going on,> Keelgrave confessed. <There tend be some defaults that everyone sees, then options more tailored to the individual. Take a simple Power Strike, for example. Everyone will get an option to reduce the mana cost, or increase the power in exchange for more mana. But if someone spends a lot of time fighting ice elementals, or has a high affinity for it, or hells, if their parents died in a house fire when they were young, they might get something flame-related.>

"I suppose that makes sense for some of these. The undead one could be because of you and the gharzoth I killed, the bond one is because I tend to heal the same people. That's logical, but… Black Veins? Tributary Sacs? Where are these coming from?"

The little orb of mana-wrapped vitality in his vessel dipped up and down once. <Beats me, kid. It's almost like someone added in some extras.>

Symon's eyes trailed down his Ledger, stopping to rest on his Titles section. Someone… Maybe certain questions were best left unanswered, he thought.

As such, he ignored the creepiest options, which left him with Web of Life and Undead Servant. It was saying a lot about his choices that necromancy made the list. He also had Maker's Mark, which gave him more control over the state his healing returned someone to, but he quickly decided to hold onto it for the next evolution. He could replicate its effects through training and practice, and if he wound up needing more control, he could always take it on his next evolution.

The idea of being able to grow himself better than he was might have been appealing, but the magical attributes from the Ledger already did this. Having a separate avenue of growth was appealing, though he figured it would be best to do some experiments with what he could already do and determine if this was a path he should follow. He'd hate to make a permanent decision and later find out it didn't work how he imagined it would.

"Of those two, any thoughts?" Symon asked his spirit companion. While he'd make his own choice, it would be foolish not to at least hear out Keelgrave's opinion.

<Fittingly for a healing power, they both give you strength through others. It depends on how reliant you're willing to be on people. Leadership or group type skills are very powerful, just not in a flashy way. Subtle nudges in the right direction can make a big difference, and the utility would be very useful. Communication underwater or when you need to be silent, never getting lost… a lot of potential, but it'll also be next to useless without your pals. They're competent enough — for children — but are you willing to base your first evolution for one of your keystone abilities on them?>

Keelgrave had a point. For as much as Symon got along with the Dumosans, there was no guarantee they'd fight alongside each other for the rest of their lives, especially considering how long they could potentially live. He still didn't know that much about them, especially Safiya and Atabek. They'd all picked combat classes, but it didn't mean they'd be adventurers their whole lives. Maybe they'd join an army, or sign up as guards somewhere that Symon couldn't or wouldn't follow. They might even settle down and get normal jobs, considering the only reason they'd left their homeland was for a ceremony they had to do.

Granted, he'd gotten the impression they were going far above and beyond the usual requirements for their coming of age hunt, but that still didn't guarantee a life of continual adventure.

Either way, while he'd presumably have more friends in the future, especially if he took a very loose definition of 'friend' to mean anyone he would fight side by side with, he wasn't sure how much he wanted to rely on others. Being a Healer already meant he'd be a welcome addition to any group; what he needed was more personal power.

"Hmm, I see what you mean. It'd be handy, but wouldn't do much for me, personally."

<Exactly. It'd be great if you were, say, a dreaded privateer with a long-term, dedicated crew, but I'd skip it if I were you. Undead Servant, on the other hand…>

Symon chewed on his lip as he stared at the evolution in question.

[ Idealise Evolution: Undead Servant.

Imbue a corpse with a semblance of life. This creation is bound to you and will obey simple commands. Costs vitality to create and maintain. ]

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Was he really considering making undead minions? Out of everything there, it might be the best option…

<This won't make you so reliant on other people. You just need a body, and they tend to be plentiful.>

"Err, yeah, but I'm not so sure I'd be reanimating people. Still, having one of those emberwolves on my side would be pretty handy…"

<Seems a waste to me, it's not like they'd need their bodies anymore. But fine, yes, a wolf would work well.>

The idea was growing on him. The description didn't specify, but he felt like it should be immune to his draining. It was bound to him, after all, just like Keelgrave was. Even if it wasn't, he wouldn't care much if he accidentally re-killed a zombie wolf in the heat of combat.

It wouldn't be entirely for combat, either. He could send it into dangerous situations as a risk-free scout, or even just use it to carry his stuff.

"Ugh, I think I'm going to pick it," Symon sighed. Being a zombie maker hadn't been his plan going into things, but it was certainly better than some of the other incredibly strange options. Worst case scenario, if it turned out that he couldn't stomach it at all, he could just not use that aspect. He had to pick something to allow Idealise to continue levelling, and this was the best option. Web of Life would be handy, but it lacked that oomph he wanted, while Maker's Mark was too much of an unknown. It was certainly an area that needed more research, however, and could be a strong contender for the next evolution.

<Well, what are you waiting for?> Keelgrave prompted.

With a final couple seconds of hesitation, Symon selected the Undead Servant evolution.

The instant he made the decision, he felt a twitch from his vessel. The organ shuddered in his chest, vibrating slightly for a few seconds. His fingers drummed nervously against his thigh as the odd sensation rapidly faded. Barely five seconds later, everything was back to normal.

"Hmm, I guess that's that. You alright in there?"

<Yeah, business as usual again.>

Symon shrugged to himself. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Maybe some black lightning, a swirling tornado of screaming souls, even just some ominous chanting. Surely his ascension to being a master of the undead deserved a little more flair?

"Now I need a black cloak and a scythe…" he muttered.

<What?>

"Nothing, nothing. It doesn't even fit. How about we test things out?"

Symon sat on the side of an overturned tree, a dead bird resting on his cupped hands. It was a beautiful, vibrant azure, though its feathers were marred with red blood. He wasn't sure how it had died, as he'd found it like this half-buried in some leaf litter, but it was mostly undamaged, barring a single missing wing. With its odd anatomy, that meant it had three left.

It hadn't been dead for very long, which had been one of Symon's requirements in his search for a test subject. He didn't want some shambling, rotting corpse stinking up the place. Hopefully, the vitality he spent 'maintaining' the creature meant it wouldn't decay, but the whole point of this experiment was to find things like that out. The Ledger never lied, but it rarely gave him as many details as he'd like. Though for some of those recent evolutions, maybe I'm better off not knowing all the details…

The Ledger gave one a certain level of intuitive understanding of new abilities, but he'd been a bit spoiled with his two main ones. Both of them had automatic aspects, allowing him to observe the magic working on its own, building up his understanding before he tried to control it more directly. In the case of his draining, this had been largely unsuccessful, but he'd had some success in guiding his healing.

When it came to reanimating the bird, he didn't have the same training wheels. He was on his own, relying on his new vague gut instincts.

Small flakes of vitality fled his core, slowly drifting through his arms and into his outstretched hands. This had been another reason for testing things on the bird first: its small size meant he was likely to waste less vitality. He had plenty waiting in the form of the black roses, but he saw no need to be wasteful.

The flakes gradually built up in his hands until his new intuition told him it would be enough for the next step. It was only around five units, but it was conveniently silent on what this next step actually was.

Well, I have to put the vitality in it, I'm assuming. And I also need to bind it, somehow. Inserting the vitality is simple enough, I'll just do the same thing as when I heal.

"Okay, ready?" Symon asked his spirit companion. Keelgrave's ability to sense vitality would be instrumental for this process. While this sense of his was imprecise, especially with the relatively small quantity Symon was using, it was a big step above being blind.

<Ready. Go for it.>

Symon brought his hands closer to his chest, ensuring Keelgrave had the best view possible. Then, he slowly pushed the vitality in his hands into the bird. He felt the vitality leaving him, his awareness maintained for only the barest fraction of a second before it flickered out to nothing. He was expecting that, though, so he patiently waited.

<Okay, I see it…> Keelgrave said. Symon nodded in response, but said nothing. All he could do was wait and see what happened. <It's spreading out… good… good… aaaaand it's all evaporated.>

"Ah shit, really?" he cursed. That's what he'd been fearing: he couldn't heal the dead. He'd hoped the evolution was as simple as 'healing a dead body and now you have a zombie', but it didn't seem to be the case.

<Yep, it looked like it was going well, then it all shot out,> Keelgrave explained, his tone surprisingly apologetic.

Symon waited another minute, just in case it took time to work, but nothing ended up happening. The bird's body was back to how it was before, completely devoid of any vitality.

Maybe it was good that it hadn't worked. He wasn't sure how the binding part worked either, so he could have ended up with a rabid zombird viciously trying to peck out his eyeballs.

Wait a second, the binding…

A flash of inspiration struck Symon. You could bind such a little bird in thread quite easily.

By now, he'd been sitting in one place on the fallen tree for some time, and all the surrounding vegetation had since died off. Without anything to distract it, his thread obeyed his commands once he manifested it. The grey rope waved in the wind, aggressively at first before calming down once it realised it wasn't going to reach anything.

His Will guided the thread, wrapping it around and around the little bird, crissing and crossing it until it looked like he had a big ball of grey yarn in his cupped hands. The threads were slightly transparent, and he could just barely make out the form of the bird as another five units of vitality fled into it. Not only that, but his threads began to sink into the bird, providing an intimate perspective of its internals.

His threads could even vaguely sense the vitality in the bird, although it didn't guzzle it back up. It made sense to him. After all, it was still his vitality.

He'd already used more vitality than his maximum capacity was when he'd first woken up in the desert, but this new Symon, battered down and built back up by survival, combat, and training, wasn't even under half.

<Okay, it's spreading again,> Keelgrave said, and Symon could feel him intently peering at the bird. <Still good… still good…>

The seconds drew on, with nothing happening but without any alarm raised by Keelgrave. Then, he felt it. A tiny, phantom sensation fluttering through the thread.

One of the bird's wings had just twitched.

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