The next morning, Teila glared all through breakfast. It was noticeable enough for Haol to pull me aside afterward to ask if everything was all right. I smiled and gave him the Diaksh equivalent of a thumbs up.

When I explained, he shook his head. “I’m so glad not to be young anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. The man was just twenty-five-years old, and adulthood didn’t really start until the human brain finished developing until about that age. As far as I was concerned, Haol was just starting his journey. Then again...

I glanced toward Ikfael. She was over two hundred years old, and often acted even more immature than my kids. Ikiira was supposed to have been quite young when she’d died—not even twenty—and I wondered if that had something to do with it.

At the moment, our Dr. Otter was using her water tablet to scan Mumu’s and Tegen’s injuries. The two had agreed to her proposal to hand over their spears and come to the Glen’s defense in exchange. Ikfael’s original demand was for it to be one time, but the hunters had increased it to three of their own volition.

Ikfael had glowed then, and when the light had settled, she looked—still not well—but better. Then, Haol and Teila had gifted their knives. They also pledged to join Mumu and Tegen in the Glen’s defense, while not asking for anything in return. That helped even more.

The otter’s eyes had shone with pride, and gratitude too. She’d heard stories from me about my team, and now that she’d seen them in action, she knew they were true. It probably explained why she was being so open with them. Ikfael knew she could trust them.

That trust was such a big step for her. When she’d been Ikiira, the village of Voorhei and its Hunter’s Lodge had sacrificed her to expunge their sins. And she’d spent so many years alone afterward, with no company except for the stonewater serpent once a year and the village’s offerings twice a year.

No wonder she was hungry for camaraderie. I didn’t know how much humanity was left in Ikfael after she’d become a spirit of the land, but people were social animals. There were exceptions, of course, but in general we were meant to exist in community with others.

When Dr. Otter finished her examination, she had us sit in a circle. No words came at first; her paws were still. She got into her thinking pose, and didn’t say anything for a while. A couple of times it looked like she was ready to start, but then she stopped to think some more. You didn’t need spirit eyes to see Ikfael was wrestling with what to say.

Finally, her paws began to move. “There’s nothing I can do to help you. There’s an elder who might, but she’s in seclusion and won’t be available until the middle of next year. My advice to you, as one who understands the responsibilities you shoulder, is to—” And here, Ikfael hesitated. “—is to let Eight cast Grace.”

My team knew of the spell, but I’d never demonstrated it to them because Ikfael had cautioned against wantonly casting it. According to her, I’d be “sharing” myself too easily if I did.

How was Grace supposed to help Mumu and Tegen though? The others on my team looked as confused as I, and they turned to me for clarification. I could only shrug in response. I didn’t understand it either.

I knew with certainty that Grace didn’t have any hidden healing effects. Yuki and I had experimented heavily with the spell when it’d been first given it to me by the stonewater serpent. The only creature we’d tamed with it was Snow, and since then, the two of us had only used it to unwind. Even just a minute or two was a good way to feel cozy-good-relaxed at the end of a long training day.

Haol joked, “None of us need taming, except maybe for Eight. We should be the ones casting the spell on him.” He grinned, and earned a few wan smiles in return.

Not Tegen, though. He was all business. “The question of why remains.” He bowed to Ikfael. “Will you please explain? We want to understand your thinking. Whatever you wish in exchange, you’ll have it.”

Ikfael nodded. “My demand is that the village provide two additional offerings every year, one in the spring and another in the fall. They do not need to be as generous as those in the summer and winter—about half the usual goods will do.”

All around the circle, jaws dropped. Teila even covered her mouth with her hands to keep from exclaiming. I’d told Ikfael to charge heavily for her services, but damn, that was a lot—practically extortion.

Ikfael waved a paw to recapture our attention. “In trade, I will share the burden with you. Eight’s spell will make clear what you did not understand before, and I will... I will take responsibility for the decisions that result, the consequences, all of it.”

“You make it sound like the Grace is a big deal,” I said, “and I suppose it is, but aren’t you blowing things out of proportion? It’s just a spell.”

Ikfael quirked her head. “Is not Spiral Pierce also a ‘just' a spell. And it can kill.”

“Sure, but Pierce is meant to do that. Grace isn’t. There’s no harm in it.”

“None intended, but every action has consequences. Toss a pebble into the water; there will be ripples. My offer is to watch over those ripples and ensure no harm comes from them.” Ikfael raised a paw to keep me from interrupting. “I’m not saying harm will definitely flow from casting Grace, but you’ve asked for my guidance, and I would be a coward to offer only words in exchange.”

“A question,” Mumu said. “For how long will we need to make these offerings?”

“Are we seriously considering this?” Haol asked. “The village’s leadership will have words with us.”

“They will,” Mumu said, nodding, “but our lodge will shoulder the expense if needed. Now, if you please, Ikfael, an answer?”

Ikfael thought for a bit. “For as long as the hunters in this room are alive. But not Eight—the rascal will do what he’ll do and is exempted from this exchange.”

“And the explanation for why?” Haol prompted.

Ikfael turned to him. “There’ll be none until after the spell is cast. To do so beforehand might jeopardize the outcome.”

“We trust you,” Mumu said, “but this is asking a lot.”

“And you are free to pursue the alchemist’s treatment,” Ikfael responded.

Which was an obvious end to the discussion, and my team huddled to discuss the proposal. They quizzed me about Grace too, and I told them about how the spell helped people to feel at home, like they belonged. It brought to light the best in people.

How that would help heal Mumu’s and Tegen’s meridians was a mystery, though, and I couldn’t help feeling like I was missing something. Since I’d first met her, Ikfael had demonstrated a lot of wisdom; she’d shared so many insights that had helped me navigate through this new life of mine. Yet, she wasn’t a genius. Unless Ikfael knew something about this situation that was completely outside the norm of human understanding, I should’ve been able to at least guess at what she was after. Instead, understanding felt just out of reach, like it was at the tip of my tongue and stayed there.

###

In the end, Mumu decided to accept Ikfael’s offer, but before doing so, she laid out her reasoning and asked us to check it.

One, the lodge was in danger—both literally and financially. We had to be able to defend ourselves from assassins, as well as deal with any fines stemming from Borba’s murder spree. There was also the Long Dark, and to help deal with it and everything else, we needed to bring Mumu and Tegen back to one hundred percent.

Two, an exchange of this size should dramatically help Ikfael, as would the new offerings once they started. I wasn’t the only one worried about our dear otter, and this would be a way for the village to help her.

Voorhei depended on Ikfael for clean water—the village was famous for it—so this exchange should ultimately benefit its residents, resulting in a win-win-win for everyone involved: Mumu, Tegen, Ikfael, and the villagers of Voorhei.

That was going to be Mumu’s justification to Koda for the expense, anyway. Or, if he refused, the Hunter’s Lodge.

After that, it was just a matter of formally agreeing to the deal, which required a formal vow from Mumu and Tegen. No matter how they expected to arrange for the offerings, the responsibility was ultimately theirs.

The spirits of all three reacted as soon as the vows were completed. Ikfael’s grew brighter, to about half of where she’d been before she’d saved from the assassin. As for Mumu and Tegen: silver flashed deep within their spirits; then some dark, stray wisps of were ejected, only to vanish into the air; which in turn led to a shifting and realignment of their spirits’ flows.

That was what it looked like anyway, and it made me really, really want to see the effects on me when I interacted with Ikfael. Alas, my spirit eyes didn’t work on myself, and my Status remained mute on the subject.

Although... I did have Ikfael’s Blessing. Maybe that was related? And Mumu and Tegen had it now too. We’d probably need to visit a world speaker to find out for sure. Unless... people could feel blessings like they did with the other aspects of their Statuses?

I asked Tegen, and he replied, "Yes, Little Pot. The blessing is in my heart: a bead of pure, warm water.”

Mumu put her hand to her chest. “I feel the same.”

When I felt in my heart, though, I sensed only Yuki. Then, when I plumbed deeper, the phone in my head sprang to mind. I saw:

Blessing of Ikfael

A blessing from Ikfael, a spirit of the land. First granted out of obligation to a god, the blessing continues because of your amusing antics, daily fish tributes, and friendship. You’ve earned a measure of trust, and been rewarded for it. Provides a bonus to healing and recovery rates while within Ikfael’s territory. Also tempers environmental effects within the territory and protects against small, non-evolved insects and vermin.

Oh, the text has changed. I don’t remember there being anything about friendship and trust before. That’s nice to see. I wonder when it happened? The last time I did a deep-dive on tooltips was... uh... a season ago?

That’s right, Yuki said. Back when we were starting to study talents.

I looked at the other blessings’ tool tips, but Ikfael’s was the only one that had changed. Still, I should get into the habit of checking them more often, and all the other fields in my Status too. It wouldn’t do to get complacent, just because I thought I had a handle on things.

Afterward, we took a break to check in with Dura and Miri, which triggered another long conversation. Their questions were good, though, because they gave Mumu a chance to practice explaining the deal to a friendly audience.

In the end, it was the benefit to Ikfael that won them over. She’d done a lot for the Hunter’s Lodge recently, and the goodwill they felt toward her smoothed the way for their acceptance of the deal.

Just before we were to head back to our room, Agath came upstairs to report. She and Moon were stationed in the inn’s common room, while Uncle Kila’s guards kept an eye on the surrounding streets. None of them noticed anything unusual. Also, the cooks wanted to know if I had any suggestions for cooking goat. They’d apparently gotten a hold of one.

I was sorely tempted to head down to talk about smoked birria tacos, but I had to beg off. Ikfael wanted the team back; it was time to cast the spell.

She had us sit in a circle again, and maybe it was the buildup but the faces all around were serious, like they were about to head out on a dangerous hunt.

“Relax,” I said, bringing the spell to mind. “I do this all the time.”

Grace unfolded from within me, and its golden light eased the tension running through the hunters. All around the circle, shoulders loosened, people’s breathing deepened, and I even saw a couple of surprised smiles. None of us needed to say or do anything—it was enough to be present and enjoy each other’s company. We belonged, just as we were.

Each of us was revealed to the others. There was Mumu’s bright spark and her constant striving to improve; Haol’s near-obsession with the bow; Tegen’s determination to fulfill his obligations; and Teila’s tireless efforts to realize her own potential. In turn, my team was also exposed to Ikfael’s hidden warmth and playfulness, my endurance and commitment to doing better, and Yuki’s devotion and bright mind.

Each of us was a wonder to the others, and my team finally got a taste what it was like for me to have Yuki with me. They experienced firsthand the uekisheile’s lack of intent to do harm. There was only their desire to make friends and be of help.

The hunters stared, their attention alternating between the three of us: Ikfael, Yuki, and me. We were unique existences, at least in the context of a small village like Voorhei. Who knew what else was out in the world? Stranger things than us, I was sure.

The spell lasted a minute, but Ikfael prompted me to recast it, and eventually the intensity of the hunters’ gazes slackened. They slid further into Grace’s warm embrace.

Then, Teila began to sob. She lifted her hands to cover her face, but her spirit revealed a deep-seated burden—the need to carry the weight of expectations for her family’s prosperity.

Tegen’s turn was next, grieving from guilt. There were those who he’d failed to protect in the past—friends, teammates, a sister.

Haol wept, because he was a disappointment to his family. As a user of both qi and mana, he should’ve been in line to be the next lodge master, but he’d prioritized his own desires.

And Mumu felt like she was never enough. Even as accomplished as she was, she’d not be Inleio equal for decades, and the lodge’s hunters knew it. Some would likely die as a result of the flawed decisions she was bound to make.

In my previous life, I’d urged my children to not be afraid of stumbling when trying new things. Mistakes were how we learned, after all. The problem, though, was that even small errors could have fatal consequences in this new world of mine.

The Hunter’s Lodge got around that by using games and pranks—they were safe ways to fool around and practice skills—but out in the world, the consequences were potentially dire.

My mana emptied out at the six-minute mark, but my teammates continued to bawl even after the Grace spell ran out. I went around the circle to comfort each of my teammates, and Yuki extended tendrils to pet them too.

For a good hour, the hunters were inconsolable. Until, eventually, the tears and sniffles stopped. They sat in silence, their gazes turned inward.

“Is this what it’s like every time?” Haol murmured. “How can you stand to use this spell, Eight?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. What you felt during the first part? That’s what it’s like for Yuki and me, and I’m guessing Ikfael too.”

“My past is long behind me,” the otter said. “Unlike some of you, I’ve had many years to come to terms with it.”

“I don’t understand,” Mumu said. “How was—” she gestured broadly “—how was that supposed to help us?”

“A clear stream flows more strongly,” Ikfael said, “but the tears were only an added benefit. The main aim of the spell... let me ask you: do you trust Yuki?”

“Yes,” Mumu said, but she seemed surprised by the response. She paused to think, and realization dawned on her face that it was true.

“What about the rest of you?” Ikfael asked.

There were tentative nods all around the circle.

“You don’t need the healers or the alchemists,” Ikfael said. “The remedy to your injuries was already in reach. You only needed to accept it, and now you do.”

Mumu began, “But Kesa said—”

“Who is the lodge master?” Ikfael demanded. “You or Kesa?”

“Me, of course, but I don’t have her experience.”

“Nor does she have yours,” Ikfael pointed out. “Listen, there’s just as much wisdom in boldness as there is in caution. The key is in understanding when one approach is better than the other. Learning to discern that will be the most important thing you do as lodge master.”

Mumu shook her head. “If so, then I should listen to Kesa even more. She’s the one who's had the years to learn that lesson.”

“Except she doesn’t know Eight as well as you. Or Yuki, now that you’ve experienced Grace.” Ikfael came over to pat my arm “Our Eight is a troublemaker, but his intentions are good. His actions too, and the same can be said of Yuki. Tell me, will you lose an opportunity, because you’re afraid of what may happen?”

Mumu’s expression sharpened. “Is it necessary though? Why take the risk when the alchemists can heal Tegen’s and my meridians without it. We can find a way to manage the Long Dark—”

Ikfael chopped the air, cutting her off. “Have you never wondered how Eight has so much qi? The answer is Yuki who helped him refine it. And that’s something the uekisheile can do for you too. Eight hasn’t mentioned it, because he likes to hold his secrets tight, but I tell this to you because I don’t want you to be a fool. The master of the lodge should never be a fool.”

The hunters all simultaneously uttered some version of: "What?!”

“That’s not true,” I yelled. “Well, the part about Yuki helping is, but I didn’t tell the others because I—”

Like feeling special? Yuki offered.

“—wanted to respect their decision,” I continued. “A friend doesn’t tempt friends into doing things they don’t want to do.”

Okay, that sounded lame even to my own ears, but I really had believed that. Or, at least I’d thought I had. Given how much Yuki’s observation stung, though, I’d probably only been deluding myself. Damn it.

While I was mulling over my capacity for self-deception, the rest of the team stared speechless.

“That’s not all,” Ikfael said. “Yuki is a genius with qi, but they can also use mana, meaning they can probably help their... hosts to sense it too.”

Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.

Same here, Yuki said. How amazing would it be if everyone here could use both qi and mana?

Ikfael continued: “The whole lodge could learn to use qi and mana. I wouldn’t recommend it, and you’d have to downplay Yuki’s intelligence and pretend that they’re a natural treasure of some kind, but you could do it.”

That announcement stunned me and my team both.

“This—” Mumu struggled to get the words out. “This is why the exchange—”

Ikfael nodded. “The decision could cast ripples far and wide.”

“Yuki wouldn’t even have to attach themselves to the people they helped,” I said, thinking aloud. “The uekisheile could just visit and then leave.”

“I volunteer,” Tegen said, leaning forward.

“We’re all going to die,” Haol said. His eyes were wide with shock, and a little fear too. “If anyone truly powerful hears of this, they’d stop at nothing get a hold of Yuki.”

Teila looked at me, her expression still soft from all the crying she’d done. “My father would like to use qi. He’ll pay you any price, swear any oath.”

Mumu rubbed at her face. “I—I can’t recommend that. As much as he’s my hunt brother, there’s little wisdom in giving Ahlrein magic powers. There’s a reason why people have to prove themselves for access to the lodge’s spells.”

“I’ve proven myself,” Tegen said. “Let me try, and we’ll see if any of this is even possible.”

Mumu placed a hand on his arm. “Of course, you’re worthy—I trust you with my life and the lives of the lodge’s most precious apprentices—but we need to think this through. How will we explain to the lodge how you suddenly deepened your qi well and gained access to mana magic?”

“A fortuitous encounter,” Tegen said, “just as Ikfael proposed.”

Haol nodded slowly. “We can tell the others we heard news of a potential remedy for Mumu’s and Tegen’s injuries, and the results were far better than expected. The treasure was limited, though, and there was only enough for a few of us to benefit.”

“No one else?” Teila asked, her voice plaintive.

Mumu glanced around the circle, and saw head shakes in response. She sighed. “I agree, it’s too dangerous to share this opportunity with the others.”

“You know,” I said. “We could say Ikfael was responsible. That it’s something she can do, a power she has.”

That landed like a bombshell, eliciting another round of exclamations, including from our dear otter.

“Think about it—Ikfael is injured herself, and this is a way for her to garner more exchanges, attention, and gifts. Her shrine could become a source for learning the Healing Water spell, as well as improving a person’s capacity for magic. She’d have to work with Yuki to mask how it was done, but the idea should be feasible.”

You’d be willing, right?

Yes, we love our Ikfael, and would do almost anything for her.

I said aloud, “She wouldn’t even have to take Yuki inside of her for this to work.”

Ikfael waved her paw in dismissal. “People would come to the Glen from miles away, at every hour and every day. The peace would be destroyed, and that cannot—must not—happen.”

“Oh right.” In my enthusiasm, I’d forgotten about the stonewater serpent. “Then, what if—”

I wracked my brain for ideas from the stories I’d read and the movies I’d watched. What about the game campaigns I’d run or played in? What was a good way to distribute a limited resource, done so that it focused attention on a single, manageable point in time?

Ah. Yes. Of course. A tournament.

“What if,” I said, “we made it a contest, held once a year, where people competed for the prize of ‘Ikfael’s Boon.’ There’d be several tracks—a martial arts one, for sure, that’s a classic, but also one for crafters. Hunters too, with the team bringing in the rarest or most dangerous game given the opportunity to nominate one of their members to receive the prize. And, because of Ikfael’s devotion to Voorhei, there’d be a boon reserved for our Hunter’s Lodge.”

I continued: “Ikfael would benefit as the recipient of an immense amount of attention; we’d give people a legitimate but limited outlet for them to access the boon; and our lodge could take advantage of it too. It’d be painstakingly slow, benefiting one of our hunters per year, but our lodge’s foundation would strengthen. The story would have to be exquisitely crafted, but I think it could work. People will believe just about anything if it offers them hope.”

As I ran down, I noticed the others’ heavy gazes.

“Do you even realize how much work—”

“Where do you even get these outlandish ideas—”

“Surely, people aren’t that naïve—”

“Wow, I want to participate.”

That last one was Teila. The others were understandably more skeptical. What I’d described was potentially a logistical nightmare. But it could also be a gold mine, and we happened to know a merchant family who know a thing or two about logistics. They wouldn’t necessarily be good at event planning, but I had confidence in Uncle Kila and his family—that they’d be able to learn.

Eventually, the protests died down as the initial skepticism gave way to people actually considering the idea. The room got quiet, and I kept my mouth shut. Eventually, they raised real questions, and as a team, we started to work our way through them.

The biggest sticking point was Ikfael willingness, but we had to defer the answer to that question to a later time. She was in her thinking pose, again and from the looks of things, she’d be a long time deciding.