Two drops fell, each a golden bead of something more than liquid, shining with an inner light. The drops shattered against skin, not-liquid splattering against solid flesh - only to be absorbed in the moment that followed.
A Coreless gasped somewhere above me as flesh - slowly, still so slowly - began to knit back together. Skin grew in a sluggish, ever-expanding wave, desperately moving to bridge the edges of gaping flesh.
More drops fell, more flesh healed, and the wounded Coreless began to move. Others pressed down on the squirming Coreless, keeping him still with steady hands and steadier words. I didn’t need to understand the meaning; the Coreless around me were completely and irrevocably mine. At some point in time, I had saved each of them, pulling them back from the brink of death - whether through healing or rescue. A [Little Guardian’s Totem] dangled proudly from their necks, and more than one had the inclination to place their hands on the carvings as if they were a lifeline.
And, in a way, they had been. It was only their Totems that had allowed me to save them, only the darkwood carvings that told me where to find them.
It didn’t always work out; for some, I was too late. For others, I was too weak.
Still, these were a few of the ones that I had managed to save. Ones that I recognized. This time, they had managed to get the attention of the-female-who-was-not-Needle, who seemed to be able to find me wherever I was in the many-nest. She had pulled me away from a few of the tiny Coreless with a string of words. I had sensed [disappointment] and [understanding] from their Totems, and they waved farewell as the Coreless did. I waved my tail back, sticking the rest of my body to the-female-who-was-not-Needle’s ore-flesh to make the awkward motion easier to accomplish.
They smiled at that, and some of the [disappointment] fell away.
The sounds of the nearby Coreless brought me back to the present.
“Just hold still and focus on my voice, Luke. That tingling feeling under your skin is just a side effect of the healing. Makes you want to move or just do something, I know, but don’t get up yet. Skies, I nearly jumped out of my skin when it happened to me,” the talking Coreless said with bared teeth, looking far different from the near-corpse that he had once been. He leaned forward, causing his dangling Totem to swing to the side and briefly touch the flesh of his inner arm. I sunk my fangs into the connection, finding a mix of [humor] and [comfort] before the swaying Totem moved away again and the link was lost. “Managed to get myself gutted the other day. Let me tell you, I don’t recommend it. Barely made it back to Orken in time for the Little Guardian here to fix me up, and you do not want to experience that. If it’s bad enough, you won’t get the gentle treatment like this. He bites.”
The injured Coreless mumbled something under his breath. Meanwhile, I caught hints of quiet [amusement] from two of the nearby Totems, reacting to whatever they had heard. Another spoke up, filling my ears with new noises.
“Damn near killed himself, the idiot. That tingling you feel? It’s the reason we’re not letting you move right now. Makes you a bit stronger while it lasts. Faster, too, but there’s a bit of an adjustment period. This moron had so much of it flowing through him at once that he tore himself back open and nearly bled out again. Wasted a whole bunch of the Little Guardian’s healing mana with that stunt. With a wound like this, it probably wouldn’t be a problem but there’s no reason to take any chances. The secondary effects take some getting used to, so don’t try to move until you’re either completely healed or that tingling sensation goes away.”
“Well, maybe if you had thought to warn me, I wouldn’t have moved. ‘Sides, I went from being at death’s door to having more energy than I knew what to do with. That’d mess with anyone. I can’t be blamed for anything that happened...”
While the Coreless talked to one another, I let a few more drops of life essence spill from my fangs. Using [Life - Invigorating Bite] without actually biting down wasn’t as effective, but it seemed to put the Coreless more at ease and made them more likely to seek me out for healing again. Considering that - as long as I wasn’t forced to use it all while fighting bad-things - I had mana to spare, I was willing to accept the loss of effectiveness.
As if in answer to that thought, the thought-light flickered.
The droplets quivered as my control over life essence grew, though only to a small degree. Despite that, I flexed my will, gathering greater amounts of life essence from within my mana core. In the depths of my mana core, golden not-liquid twisted and whirled, fighting my attempts to direct it. One drop was easy, two drops were natural, and even three hardly took any attention.
I needed far more than that. My head-scales began to pound and pulse as the gathered life essence grew; I fought through it, bending it to my will, trying to force the glowing essence to become what I wanted.
The over-large ball of golden not-liquid slipped from my control, crashing into the brilliant mana that waited below. I tensed, expecting a backlash. None came; none beyond the continuing pain in my head-scales and the exhaustion that filled my scale-flesh, anyway.
It was a better result than I could have expected - and it was better than what I could have done only a few moments before. It was progress. It was improvement.
It would do for now. It would have to.
With a determined hiss, I pulled another few golden drops from my store of life essence. It was harder than before, sending twinges of pain through my head-scales, intermittent reminders of my failure to create something more. Still, it wasn’t long before the chosen drops spilled from my fangs.
Golden liquid met battered flesh; the wounds of the Coreless finally closed.
I hissed again, with satisfaction this time. Just like with [Life Essence Manipulation], there was a small but noticeable difference in [Life - Invigorating Bite]’s effectiveness.
Tiny. Miniscule. Progress.
As the once-wounded Coreless pulled himself to his feet, the gathered Coreless began to speak again, baring their teeth and slapping at each other’s limbs. Which was not an attack. I checked.
They were just...enthusiastic.
Fortunately, they knew better than to do the same to me. Even now, one of them could accidentally crush my bones in their excitement. It might have been worrying if I didn’t know of their growing faith in the Great Core - the tiny Coreless and warrior Coreless especially, though even the Coreless that never left the many-nest had begun to see the light of the Great Core, a large number of them seeking me out to receive a [Little Guardian’s Totem] of their own.
The Coreless continued their conversation, the nonsense sounds streaming together. Just as I was about to leave, one of my Coreless reached into a skin-mouth at his side; it vomited out something that I knew well.
A darkwood carving of a tiny snake - of me.
A few seconds and a few words later, the recently healed Coreless was bending down in front of me. His hand stretched out, the threads of the proto-totem wrapped around his fingers. I hissed with glee, slithering forward to brush against it.
A new [Little Guardian’s Totem] was born, and the thought-light flickered in response.
The Coreless’ fingers closed, tightening around the now-glowing Totem. I sunk my fangs into the connection, letting the sensation of [gratitude] and [hope] wash over me. There was a lot of that these days.
It was growing familiar.
As he slipped the newest [Little Guardian’s Totem] around his neck, baring his teeth wide, I sensed something else. Something that I had noticed more and more in recent days - a sense that there was something in me changing. Expanding, somehow. Stretching wider.
That, too, was beginning to feel familiar.
The first time that I noticed it, I had studied every inch of my scale-flesh, looking for any change. There was none. In the end, I couldn’t figure out what was going on with me.
I just had to hope it was the sign of something good.