Taming Destiny - a Tamer Class isekai/portal survival fantasy.

The samurans react in different ways to the fire. The Pathwalkers, interestingly, show the most fear, pulling tightly together and stepping almost as one away from the fire wall – Joy included. The Warriors show the least: while some fidget uncomfortably and I see a good amount of unease flickering through their spikes, none actually move.

The Unevolved are more varied, some reacting almost as strongly as the Pathwalkers, others barely reacting at all. If I had to guess, it would be that it is based on whether they have actually experienced the ‘life-devourer’ before.

“It’s not that simple,” a massive samuran rumbles from the crowd, his grunts more guttural and deeper than any other I’ve spoken with. Of course it’s not, I sigh to myself.

Not wanting to waste more mana, I cut the connection to the ring of fire and my ‘cloak’. Without my mana as fuel and with little else to burn in the dirt and thin cover of dried grass of the samuran’s village, it disappears quickly. I keep feeding mana into Aingeal, though, and the not-so-little flame continues burning merrily. It doesn’t require much mana at all to keep the fire elemental shining brightly, and having the extra light is definitely an advantage.

“Is it not? Your leader is dead, killed by one under my command. I’ve taken out a threat which none of you could deal with and which threatened your village with extinction. And if I don’t take control of your village, you will be wiped out by the Great Predator for what your leader did to her cub.”

“We hear your words,” the large lizard-man grunts. “Yet we have no guarantee that you speak truth.” I feel like groaning. The vine-stranglers disappear in a fire, then I suddenly turn up with fire at my command and they don’t believe I had anything to do with it?

No, I don’t think that’s true, I realise, looking carefully around at the different samuran faces. They do believe it, but apparently that’s not enough for them.

“Our leader is dead, that is true,” one of the other samurans starts saying carefully, a Pathwalker this time. “However, the situation has been very…irregular.”

What even happened, River? I ask my Bound mentally. He answers quickly and concisely, filling me in on the broad brushstrokes of what happened. I still don’t know why the shaman had decided to kill her own people, nor how exactly they managed to convince the rest of the village not to intervene on her behalf, but at least I know a little more than before.

The mental messages are quicker than speaking, but it’s still been a long pause before I answer the Pathwalker. Apparently the lizard-folk are not in a hurry and have been taking the time to look me and my Bound over in the meantime. There are a few surprised grunts of recognition as the three samurans who had stayed behind with me move forward and into the light.

“It seems pretty clear cut for me,” I say finally. “From what I understand, you guys consider your leader to be the one who beats all of you, and Shaman was the strongest combatant. River succeeded in defeating Shaman; does that not make him de facto the leader? And as his boss, me too?” I’m trying to come to terms with their ‘might is right’ philosophy; it would be just typical that this is one situation in which it doesn’t apply.

“Except he didn’t win the battle in the right way,” points out another Pathwalker, this one with an obstinate cast to her jaw. “Even if we ignore the fact that he’s not Evolved, it wasn’t a proper challenge fight. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t defeat Shaman completely independently – had your party not arrived in time to help him, he would now be dead. He has not proven his strength anywhere near adequately for us. As for you, you’re not even one of us; how could you become our leader?”

I sigh again. Great. The idea of just attacking them with all my Bound and forcing them to acknowledge me is sounding less and less stupid by the minute. Maybe it’s the exhaustion of having spent a whole day travelling, and then having only just settled down to rest when the message from River came through and so having to immediately set off immediately that’s causing it. I’d honestly quite happily kill to be able to rest and not have to worry about someone killing me in my sleep right now.

Perhaps Joy senses my rising homicidality as she hastily intervenes.

“Sisters, it is late. Everyone is tired.” she starts saying placatingly. Ostensibly she’s talking to the Pathwalkers, but her body-language indicates that it’s directed at the Warriors too. “We’ve just lost our leader, one of the pillars of our community. No one is thinking with clear heads right now. We have dealt with Shaman and her regrettable plans. The Forest of Death is gone. We have no immediate threat to combat. Let us take the time to sleep. Then we can approach this matter in the morning when we are rested.”

“And your suggestion is not at all affected by your odd connection with Runs-with-the-river, that he says is due to this prey beast in front of us?” spitefully asks the same Pathwalker who had doubted me before – Wind-whisperer, I believe. Apparently she’s been able to recover enough from the shock of my control of fire to allow her doubts free rein again. Pity.

“Yes, Wind-whisperer has a point,” says another Pathwalker. “You have said that we have dealt with all immediate threats, but how do we know that this mysterious master of Runs-with-the-river does not intend on ripping out our throats while we sleep? Poor Mover learned too late of the threat that this duo holds – and they are far more than a duo now.”

“Come now, Wood-shaper,” a fourth Pathwalker says impatiently. “Use your brain. He has said that he wishes to rule us; I hardly think that he means to rule over a village of corpses. We are most likely safe enough for the night.”

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want your precious Runs-with-the-river executed for killing Shaman,” Wood-shaper snaps back at her. “I bet you’d be willing to raise your chin to even a prey beast to protect your little assistant.”

The Pathwalker I’ve just realised is Herbalist growls and looks like she’s a moment away from tearing Wood-shaper a new one – either figuratively or literally. But before she can, the last Pathwalker to speak steps in.

“Sisters, calm yourselves,” she remonstrates. “Since this is a matter of safety for the village – and for ourselves – we should consult the Warriors.” Looking towards the samuran who stands head and shoulders above even the other bulky Warriors, she invites him to speak. “Shrieks-loudly, what say you?”

The Warrior who is evidently the leader of their group takes a moment to consider the question. His bronze-coloured eyes roam across me and my group, touching on the blood-coated River, and dipping to the body of Shaman lying on the ground near us. I have the impression that he misses nothing – not the readiness of my Bound to attack at my order, nor the fatigue that is surely lining my face, nor the determination to see this through that must be in my eyes.

“I concur with Honoured Weaver. It has been a night of ill-deeds, of intrigue and machinations which would shame our ancestors if done under the light of the sun. If the…mysterious master of Runs-with-the-river will agree to taking himself and all of his followers outside the walls of the village for the night, we will convene in the morning to discuss where to move next.”

With that, he stops and waits expectantly, looking between me and River as if unsure as to who will respond.

I take a moment to think it through. It’s possible that he just wants to get me out of the village, me and all my Bound. Perhaps he thinks it would be easier to prevent me from reentering afterwards since they could defend the gates against our invasion.

However, if that’s his plan, he hasn’t thought through the fact that I have fire at my command – burning the palisade fence won’t take all that much power, and then the village will be vulnerable to me once more. Plus, I’ll then be angry.

But that would be annoying to deal with, and would pretty much guarantee that I’d have to slaughter most of the lizard-folk which, again, is not my aim.

“Very well,” I say finally after a moment more of thought. “However, to ensure that you are equally not intending on sending a party of Warriors out to attack us, I require a hostage.”

“A hostage?” Shrieks-loudly repeats dubiously.

“Yes. Her,” I say, pointing at the herbalist. My demand causes uproar – even my Animal Empathy Skill is unable to keep up with the grunts and clicks that fill the air around me. Abruptly, Shrieks-loudly clicks, the sound managing to cut through the raucous din. Interestingly, the Pathwalker in question has remained silent throughout, just eyeing me with an unreadable expression and the barest flickers of colours through her spikes.

“You cannot be serious – Herbalist is one of our honoured Pathwalkers, a treasure of our community.”

“Precisely,” I respond, fixing him with my gaze just to prove how serious I am. “What better way to ensure our safety through the night? If you are being honest, then no harm will come to her and she will be released in the morning to join you for your discussion.”

Shrieks-loudly looks like he’s about to argue more, but the herbalist herself intervenes.

“I will go with them.”

“Honoured Herbalist-”

“Sister-”

Several voices try to speak out but she cuts through them with a sharp snap of her teeth.

“I said: I will go with them.” She steps forwards towards us, stopping right next to River with something that looks like a challenge in her eyes. Though who it is directed at, I don’t know. There is an awkward silence as it seems that several would like to speak but don’t dare do so with her looking as formidable as she does right now.

“Then that’s settled,” I say, deciding to move things on. “We will set up camp just out of sight in the trees. At dawn, we will return. We will not engage in hostilities until then at the earliest.”

“Agreed,” Shrieks-loudly says, sounding displeased. I nod, then send a message to the Bound who have been with me all this time to back off and withdraw out of the village. We start moving but he halts us with a word. “Wait.” I look back at the samuran.

“For what?” I ask, impatiently? I want to sleep, damn it.

“We agreed that you would take with you all of your followers.” With that, he looks meaningfully at Joy, Lee, Peace, and a few others that I recognise as the Tamed Unevolved samurans.

“Elder brother…” objects Lee weakly.

“No, I’m staying here,” agrees Joy, more strongly. “I am still one of the village’s Pathwalkers, don’t forget. I need to be part of the decision-making.”

“Then you may return tomorrow with Honoured Herbalist,” Shrieks-loudly says with a sense of finality. “But I will not tolerate any with a split duty to the village to remain with us this night.”

It’s alright, I tell them mentally. Come join us for tonight and then go back in the morning.

But they will be talking tonight, no matter what they say, Joy objects.

And do you think that they will listen to you? With how they know that you are one of my ‘followers’? Besides, they won’t have the herbalist with them either – you could work on her tonight. And if they decide to do something stupid, we’ve got lots of strategies which we can use to succeed eventually.

I hope you’re right, she sighs after a moment of thought, clearly not happy but willing to go along with it for now. Stepping forward, she joins our little party. At her movement, Lee and Peace join us too, as do the eleven Unevolved who hold a Tame Bond with me.

Still, as we walk towards the gate through which we had charged, I send a couple of messages down the Bond and two forms peel off, to be lost in the shadows. There’s no harm in leaving a couple of eyes to keep watch, I figure.