The next two years passed by quickly.

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Jaws continued to take me to the Smithy once a month, though I now jogged alongside him instead of being carried (the man moved quickly, and I had short legs). All the workers at the forge have grown to know me and to understand that I could be trusted to mind my own safety – in fact, I had already suggested some improvements which have made the operation run smoother. The best was wearing goggles when working in a high-spark environment, as previously they would just squint and dealt with the occasional bout of debilitating eye damage – eyes can take a startling amount of abuse, but being out of commission for days or weeks while one's sight returns is a very unpleasant experience.

One major side effect of the goggles I designed (I just did a quick drawing and explained the concept, and Jaws was happy to help) is that the workers at our forge can now produce highly detailed work more rapidly than before, as they are able to keep their eyes open and actually see each hammer strike. I also helped with general shop safety whenever I was there, but other than that I had very little to add. I only knew some small amounts of metallurgy (such as carbon plus iron equals steel), and I was otherwise a complete forging novice who was starting from square one.

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Zephyr and her doe-eyed mother were frequent visitors, and I quickly grew to enjoy looking after the sharp toothed little tyke. She needed constant monitoring as she was easily capable of biting off a finger (hers or anyone else’s), and I have no idea how she managed to keep from severing her own tongue. I also had to hide my wooden toys (err… my dexterity-improvement-devices) from her, as she could bite them in half with just a little bit of effort. But aside from that, she was a sweet and happy girl who was easy to entertain, and I usually ended up playing babysitter while mother and her friend chatted over boiled ‘enkra’ root tea (which has a strong ginger flavor).

At first playing with Zephyr would constantly remind me of my daughter back on Earth, leaving me with melancholy and nostalgic thoughts as my companions for at least a day or two, hoping that my family was doing alright back home. But I did my best to move on, telling myself that there was nothing I could do except continue living here on this world. Eventually that even seemed to work, but some of the lingering feelings stuck.

Other than those two, however, I interacted with very few others outside of my father’s crew at the Smithy. Mother didn’t seem to go out of her way to meet new people or introduce me to other children, and nobody except her friend ever came to visit us at home. Which was fine by me, as I imagine trying to pretend to be friends with a child who was mentally my age would be pure torture.

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I communicated with Mark often, but we were still unable to mention anything about how we were cultivating. He still saw his parents only a few times a month, but they had started sending him tutors almost exactly after he turned three. He was being taught the language in a much more formal manner than I learned it, and had finally begun to truly pick it up. He also discovered his name!

Mark sent to me one night.

I had been mentally referring to myself as Heller for a few years now, but didn’t mind using the dual name system with Mark.

Sent Mark.

I couldn’t help but laugh in my head, picturing the scene of a baby Mark hanging off of some guys arm like a hungry piranha, and I sent the sense of my amusement over to him. I sent, along with the image I was picturing.

He sent, amusement mixed with pride accompanying the message.

I pondered this for only a moment before agreeing. It would be easier for both of us if we could try to move on. We didn’t need to forget the past, but we couldn’t stay mired in it either. We also discussed trying to use the language of our new people over the link, but decided to stick with English for a few reasons. The first was that there were a huge amount of words and concepts missing from the new language, which would vastly limit some of the more complex ideas we might need to discuss. The second reason was that neither of us wanted to risk forgetting how to speak our true native tongue… probably not a very good reason, but we both agreed on it none the less.

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My mind was subsumed by a brilliant light flaring out of the arcane formation hovering in my imagination, symbols dancing and rearranging themselves into what I could feel were new and more powerful shapes. The flood of energy into my body thickened, and my thoughts fled as sleep overcame me. This was an experience that had repeated itself once a year since I was born, the formation ever growing and evolving as I could sense it moving closer and closer to perfection.

My character sheet was also constantly updating itself as I grew and changed, and I also noticed a very surprising fact: My Cultivation-Points were increasing at something like an exponential rate! I wasn’t certain yet, but what I did know was that I had one CP when the message first arrived and I was around one year old; three CP at age two; seven CP at age three; and then suddenly fifteen CP by the time I had turned four! They didn’t all arrive in a lump sum either, and I seemed to be generating a new CP every month or so at this point.

Strength: 4

Dexterity: 6

Fitness: 5

Will Power: 14

Perception: 12

Health Points (HP): 5

Fatigue Points (FP): 6

Remaining CP/Qi: 15

I still hadn’t spent any CP, mostly because I couldn’t afford anything that would actually help save my life before… but now with 15 CP, I decided to try and test my plan.