From the moment that the thought-light flickered, giving me a glimpse of what had changed, I wanted nothing more than to act on it - to create a [Little Guardian’s Focus]. I could feel the new ability, feel the potential that lay in the back of my mind. Like [Little Guardian’s Totem], it was a complex pattern of mana, a weaving of brilliant blue threads that went far beyond what I was capable of doing myself. It was beautiful.

I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

I wasn’t completely sure what [Little Guardian’s Focus] was capable of, but I had an idea of what it would cost. My stores of mana were far too low for it, with how deeply I had pulled from them in converting the most recent of the Coreless.

No, it would have to wait.

Still, even without being able to create a [Little Guardian’s Focus], I could sense a few other changes already. The connections to my [Little Guardian’s Totem]s were a little clearer than before. Before, I could only catch glimpses of what was happening to my Coreless during times of great fear and equally great need. Even then, it wasn’t an easy process; the Coreless did not convey images as easily or clearly as Tiamat had. I was forced to search for them myself, and it was only the way their Totems’ connections flared in strength during their times of need that allowed me to look through their eyes.

Now, extreme emotions were no longer necessary for that - even the smallest spike of emotion through the links would be enough for me to see.

I dipped into my mind-nest, cycling through the great many connections in a state of wonder. A wave of images flashed through my mind: warriors traveling through a tunnel, a group of tiny Coreless running through the many-nest, and many more.

Curious, I focused on the furthest of my Totems. Only a few in that cluster of Totems were in contact with a Coreless’ flesh, and the distance between us caused the link to feel weak and faint. I buried myself into one of the connections, pushing hard until something seemed to fall into place.

A vision flashed through my mind: The bearer of my [Little Guardian’s Totem] walked through a great many-nest, even larger than the one that I was in now. Giant towers, hollowed out and larger than any stone-spikes I had ever seen, rose from the depths of black-water. Coreless walked between them, traveling on swaying platforms that spanned the gaps between the towers. The cavern was filled with mana-light, glowing orbs and rods providing more than enough to see by. The Coreless’ view turned, and I saw - the vision cut out as my grasp on the connection slipped, and a wave of fatigue washed over me.

The distance was too far and the Coreless had not actually called for me; pushing past that anyway was more draining than I had expected. Still, it had confirmed something for me that I had already suspected. There was another many-nest, and my Coreless were already attempting to spread the light of the Great Core among them.

I hissed languidly, my glee stifled by the exhaustion that clung to my mind and scale-flesh. It started to pull me away; I allowed it, content with what I had accomplished.

A pair of warm hands picked me up, causing the world to shift around me. Meanwhile, the Coreless continued to chatter among themselves. I let myself drift away.

I uncoiled, slowly unwrapping my length from the bundled small-nest where I normally slept. The soft skins rubbed and hugged against my scale-flesh with each and every movement, beckoning me back towards the comfort of slumber, but I resisted. A few shakes - and maybe some more violent thrashes - of my tail managed to pull the tempting warmth away, freeing me at last.

I flicked out my tongue a few times, searching the air for the scent-taste of my Coreless. My original Coreless had been busy lately, and were outside of the many-nest quite often. To my surprise, there were more of them around than I had come to expect.

The-female-who-was-not-Needle was a familiar presence; comforting, almost, in how well I knew and recognized it. With how often I was around her, I was convinced that I could manage to pick out her scent-taste from a crowd of Coreless.

The others were less familiar, though our time together had still been enough to imprint them in my mind.

Needle gave off a unique scent-taste of various oils, some mixed into the skins that she covered herself with and other, more unique ones, mixed into her hair. Will tasted heavily of ore-flesh and salt, as if the two scent-tastes had worked themselves into his very bones. The Unrepentant One I paid less attention to; he had fallen behind not-Needle in the disciple rankings, having done very little recently to earn my favor.

I could still pick him out, though.

The Coreless were clustered somewhere nearby within the nest, so I slithered down from the remains of my small-nest and began the search. I met an obstacle right away - an enemy that I could not defeat on my own, even with my recent growth in strength.

I hissed in displeasure. The moving-wall did not hiss back.

For a moment, I eyed the small crack underneath the moving-wall, gauging whether I could fit myself through it. It was slim, smaller than some of the smallest wall-cracks, but I was tempted to try.

I tried.

It didn’t work, and I would have been forced to admit defeat, if I didn’t have more allies than the moving-wall did.

I called for them with a commanding hiss, amplifying the sound with an extreme level of [Sound Shaping]. The moving-wall flung open almost instantly, utterly defeated.

The-female-who-was-not-Needle stared down at me from above, one eye twitching slightly. I hissed. She hissed something back. I hissed again.

Then, muttering something under her breath and rubbing at one ear, she bent down with an outstretched hand. I accepted the offer, twining my way up her limb until I reached my customary perch.

She carried me through the nest, towards the scent-tastes of the other Coreless. Soon enough, I saw the other three, sitting on fake-pedestals that had been arranged around a slab of darkwood. More interesting to me was the pile of proto-totems that lay in front of them, gathered in a large clump. I could only think that they wanted more [Little Guardian’s Totem]s in order to allow their faith in the Great Core to successfully spread to other Coreless’ many-nests. I approved of their initiative.

As I began to slither down, moving towards the gathered carvings, I noticed another one hanging from the-female-who-was-not-Needle’s neck. I touched it as I brushed by, happily filling it with mana. Though I felt like I already had a good understanding of the Great Core’s first disciples, it would be nice to have a better grasp on their emotions, especially if we hunted down more Lesser Cores in the future.

She poked at the now-glowing Totem with one finger, and I managed to catch the brief flash of [delight] before her finger moved away again. Not-Needle’s other arm reached out, bridging the gap to the table, and I took the offered path.

I dove into the gathered pile, pressing against them and creating a new [Little Guardian’s Totem] with every touch. One of the carvings at the edge of the pile, pushed away as I slithered through the carvings, hit the floor with a clatter of wood.

When all of the remaining carvings had become a [Little Guardian’s Totem], I pulled myself down to the floor, chasing after their fallen brethren.

Just before I touched it, I had a thought - why not test [Little Guardian’s Focus]?

With my mana core still nearly full, I focused on the small carving. I pressed against it, and my mana twisted, forming a convoluted shape that made [Little Guardian’s Totem] seem small and simple. My stores of mana were ripped away from me as the [Little Guardian’s Focus] came to be, and the tiny carving began to glow with mana-light.

As my mana continued to deplete itself, the glow grew. It grew. It grew.

The carving began to shine with blinding light, an incandescent glow that burned at my eyes.

And then it exploded, sending wooden shards flying through the air. The Coreless yelped with surprise, jerking backwards and jumping away. A few fragments nicked and pierced at my scale-flesh, splinters digging in painfully.

I hissed, disappointed at the failure. The tiny carving hadn’t been nearly enough to contain the power of [Little Guardian’s Focus]. I’d need something bigger.

A lot bigger.