<It's working!> Keelgrave exclaimed. Symon smiled as he felt the bird twitch again in his hands, although he began to panic when the threads started to unravel. His new Ledger-given magical instincts were telling him that the process wasn't done, and if he messed up now, he'd have to start all over again.

<Quick, save it!> the spirit ordered.

"Stop distracting me, I'm trying!" Symon hissed as he clamped his Will down on the threads. It felt like he was trying to touch two magnets with the same polarity together; he had to use force to push the thread back together, but it was constantly slipping and sliding around instead of cleanly falling into place.

Sweat dripped from his nose as he focused, straining his Will in the mental equivalent of a deadlift as he struggled to hold the tapestry together that was covering and interfacing with the bird.

He felt a tiny brush against one section of the thread, a minuscule puff of vitality escaping from the bird. He pounced on the opening, cramming more thread into the tiny gap that had opened, but another hole opened in the process.

More and more holes opened up as more and more of the thread sunk into the bird until, eventually, no more vitality was released.

<It's done,> Keelgrave announced.

All of the threads wrapping around the bird had vanished. Only a single dark grey line connected him to the bird's breast, the link slowly darkening and narrowing in tandem. Eventually, he was left with a single, midnight black gossamer thread between them.

As soon as what could only be the new bond solidified, he placed the bird gently on the tree he was seated on and watched it closely. All on its own, a tiny particle of vitality — less than a single unit's worth — creeped out of his vessel and began sliding down the new connection like a kid at a waterpark. He had the feeling that he could break the connection and take the piece of vitality back, but he allowed the process to continue.

The moment the tiny piece of life impacted the bird, its entire body spasmed at once.

"Yes!" Symon whispered as the little blue bird shakily stood up on two legs, its three remaining wings flaring out of balance. Even like that, it was still only as big as his splayed-out hand. "It actually worked, and only on the second try!" Symon laughed.

After some time admiring his handiwork, during which the bird had remained silent but rotated to follow him, he was ready to run a few tests.

"Okay, little guy," he said, "can you understand me?"

The bird stared at him blankly.

"Right. Hmm, chirp if you can understand me," he ordered.

Cheep.

The tiny, high-pitched squeak was only barely audible to Symon's ears. It was also the cutest thing he had ever heard.

"I'm going to name you… Stitch," he proclaimed, putting the proper gravitas into the birth of Dr. Symonstein's first monster. He held out his index finger. "Stitch, hop on," he began to say, but the bird had already jumped the short distance onto the proffered appendage before he'd started speaking.

That was fast. Hmm, mental communication already? Chirp if you can understand me.

Cheep, the little bird squeaked.

"Nice, that'll be handy," he said as he lifted the bird for a closer inspection. It sat patiently on its finger perch as Symon rotated it this way and that, checking it over for anything odd. The most major thing was the fact that a wing was still missing. He sent another unit of vitality through his finger, though nothing seemed to happen. He sent another through their new bond, pushing the little capsule of vitality to where the connection started. The razor thin thread sucked in the vitality once it got close, which quickly travelled down the line and into the bird.

It twitched and perked up slightly when the energy reached it, but nothing else changed. The wound remained unhealed, and the missing wing had not even begun to regrow.

"So, still can't heal dead things," he muttered. For such a little creature, two points of vitality would have had a noticeable result. It meant there wasn't much point in bringing back a monster that he'd hacked to pieces. His draining would be very useful if he needed something in one piece.

"Okay, let's see how you handle something a little more complex. Go to the camp down there, come back, and tell me how many people are there," he said, giving a gentle flick with his finger to launch the bird airborne. It had two main wings, much like a normal bird, and what should have been two smaller ones in the back. It was clearly feeling the effects of the missing appendage. Its remaining wings beat furiously against the air, its little body tilting ominously as it travelled, but it could still fly surprisingly well.

It shot through the foliage at speed, vanishing for only a few seconds before it returned. He hadn't moved far from the camp, of course, as he was still in a monster-infested forest. They might have been afraid of coming so close to the black mist, but he didn't need to take unnecessary risks.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The whole time, their black, lace-like bond pointed Symon to where Stitch went, allowing him to track its progress.

The little blue missile veered towards Symon's shoulder before it slammed on the brakes, its wings flaring out to scoop at the air. It alighted gently on his collarbone, the tiny claws gently gripping into place.

Cheep. Cheep. Cheep.

"Good boy," Symon smiled, giving it a pat with his finger. He paused. "Hmm, let's wash some of that blood off you."

"I'm back again!" Symon called out through the gaping maw of the manor's entrance. Even though he was sure there was nothing dangerous left to run into, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. He'd heard that term plenty of times before, though he'd always thought it was an artistic liberty. How could you feel something's attention?

He felt it now, though. That creeping sensation that, if he turned around, something would be looking back at him. Slowly, he turned in place. The inner zone of the barrier was heavily shaded, like a cemetary at night, but there was nothing behind him. The fields of black roses swayed in some unknowable pattern, at least where he hadn't cut swathes through them with his magic.

He still couldn't shake that strange feeling. Even after peering around at all the darkened corners of the manor's grounds, he found it was the same as always. With a frown, he turned back to the manor's doorway.

"Yes?" Entisse hissed casually as she leaned against the doorframe.

"Ah!" he gasped, jumping back in shock but catching himself before he tumbled down the short stairs to the dirt. "Uh, hi. Where did you come from?"

"Inside."

"I see… how long were you waiting there to scare me?"

She blinked slowly, a long, mocking thing. "Not long. I hid when I sensed you. You are easy to track."

"Huh. How'd you even manage that?" he asked. All the intact windows were so coated in pollen you couldn't see through them, and he would have noticed it if she was peering through the shattered ones. Well, probably. He had to admit he might not have been paying complete attention when he first came through the barrier.

She pointed at his chest. "Strong blood."

He looked down. He'd already cleaned himself, so there was nothing there. Maybe there were a few small flecks he missed from when he'd gotten her out of the chains?

"No, inside," she amended. "Lots of life. For a humanling."

"Oh, you can sense the vitality?" It wasn't the strangest thing. Keelgrave could do something similar, though he wasn't sure if hers worked the same way. Using his genius intellect, he rapidly devised a way of finding out. "How's that work?"

One of her thin, white eyebrows curved upwards. "You are truly unaware?"

"Hey, you're the first elf I've met." This was untreaded ground for the both of them.

"Surely you would have heard tales of our fearsome abilities, though?"

"Not really, just that your people tend to fight humans a lot."

"Then I will teach you. All of my people have a connection to blood, though not all have a dedicated class. There are certain requirements to unlock mine, which few are brave enough to accomplish, but all of my people have at least some power over it."

"Wow, brave and incredibly modest," Symon said.

"Only the weak hide their strength. The strong roar it out, so that all may quake in their presence." She nodded to herself.

"Right… so how strong are you really? Like, how do you fight?"

<It's hard to tell with Elves, their body language isn't right so all the normal signs aren't there, but I don't think she's Second Step,> Keelgrave provided. He'd been silent for a while, still not pleased that Symon had helped Entisse, but he'd been forced to accept it.

If Keelgrave had gotten it right, then she was likely stronger than Symon, though not by too much. They were at different ends of the same tier. Defining who was more 'powerful' was difficult, as so many little things went into deciding who would win in a fight. Hopefully, he'd never find out.

She flexed her clawed fingers in response to his question. "These, and some magic."

"Oooh, what type?"

"Blood," she said, her black eyes boring into his.

"Yeah, I should have figured."

"Yes. It is powerful, but blood runs out. Your healing will help."

Symon had to admit he was very curious to see it in action. He'd never seen proper magic himself. Sure, his Dumosan friends used mana for their abilities, but that was just to run faster or hit harder — not true magic. "I can imagine it's a good combo," he nodded appreciatively.

"Yes, it is a win-win situation."

Was it? It sounded like it just made her stronger. "How so?"

"I get more blood to use, and healing for my injuries. I win twice."

Symon sighed so hard he slumped against the wall. "That's not— ah, nevermind. Anyway, I came here with an offer. I can help you train Poison Resistance and get past the barrier, but it'll be dangerous. It would take a long time, but we could speed it up by—"

"I am familiar with the process," she interrupted. "Yes, I wish for the resistance. What do you demand in exchange?"

"Oh, it's not a trade. I'd feel bad leaving you trapped in here, though I guess you could use the manacles instead if you really can't wait." She'd be in a monster infested forest without any mana, but it would mean she wouldn't have to wait.

"I am in no rush," she hissed softly, leaning in to stare at him. She flinched back when a small wisp of pollen floated past the doorway. They were still standing in the front entrance, and even the foyer of the manor should have been a minefield of the stuff.

Peering past her, he saw how she'd fixed the problem. The long rug from the hallway, the one with the self-cleaning enchantment, had been dragged out to make a path. Still, there were occasional motes in the air, though they were far fewer than outside the manor.

Hmm, I wonder how the rug still works… wouldn't the mana pollen break it? Could I just roll her up in it like a burrito and drag her out through the barrier?

It would be a funny sight, assuming he could get her to agree with it, but didn't solve all the problems he needed it to. While the interior of the manor was clear of the pollen, and the tower was likely to be the same considering it was fully sealed, it was still a risk. If something went wrong — which it always did — and she or his friends outside got stuck in the mist without him to heal… it wouldn't be good news for them.

No, it was best to do things the proper way the first time instead of cutting corners. Even if they didn't end up needing it, a resistance is still a resistance.

"Let's take this inside before the mist hits you," Symon offered.

"Very well. But first, what is this creature? And why does its blood not flow?" she asked.

Looking over his shoulder, Symon saw the little bluebird doing figure-eights in the air. "Oh, that's Stitch. He's great."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.