Aran sat back on his feet, kneeling beneath the bows of the huge tree Naya’s called home. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed in concentration. He’d been there all day, and the sun was high in the sky, though hidden by thick cloud cover. He was still wearing the stained white scrubs, as he’d soon discovered after examining them more closely. He simply ignored the implications of the dark stains down the front.

His mind was singularly focused on restoring his mana channels, and so he’d focused solely on circulating what little mana he could access throughout his body, slowly eating away at the lattice of hardened mana. It was long, tiring work, straining his concentration and patience. The lattice was inexplicably difficult to break down, and he had very little mana to actually break through it with, as his core was still difficult to access. So progress was agonizingly slow, and he felt frustration tugging at the edges of his mind, making it hard to concentrate.

After a few more minutes with almost imperceptible progress, he gave a growl of frustration, eyes snapping open, blinking rapidly in the bright sunlight. He sighed heavily, pushing himself to his feet, stretching as he did. Naya was nowhere in sight, the firepit full of cold coals from her morning meal. He finished stretching, feeling a bit more energized after so long sitting still, fixing the damage. The reminder of what happened to him threatened to overtake him with anger, but he forced it down. Stewing in his own rage would do nothing. He would make the whole town pay, but he needed to recover first. So he focused on feeling better, and he’d read somewhere a positive outlook helped that. That might just be self-help bullshit, but it was worth a shot.

So he took a stroll, choosing a direction at random and plunging into the forest. The bright light filtered down through the branches of the evergreens covered in frost, creating a hazy atmosphere of almost complete silence on the ground floor. It was peaceful, and helped him push away all the thoughts of revenge and hate that permeated his mind as he walked. That would all come. But he needed to take some time to heal, he kept telling himself. That was his mantra, today.

Get better, make them pay.

He knew it was an unhealthy way of thinking, but he didn’t care. This was a goal, something to work towards. And it gave him a purpose, something to focus on rather than wallowing in a deadly mix of self-pity and hate. Being out here helped calm the whirlwind of emotions within. He looked around him, at the massive trees arching overhead, impartial, uncaring. There’d only been two other beings who had shown any kind of care for him. That brought up feelings of guilt as he realized he’d only been focused on himself since he’d woken up. He hadn’t even properly thanked Naya for saving him. She’d risked her life, and Bu’umo’s as well, to save essentially a stranger. A stranger who wasn’t even the same species. He now realized how selfish he was being, thinking back to their interaction this morning.

Naya hadn’t spoken more than a quiet greeting to him since he’d trudged back to camp last night, shirt still wet from his tears. He hadn’t heard her leave after he started breaking down the blockage in his channels, so he wasn’t sure exactly where she was. Probably patrolling the territory, he figured. He wasn’t exactly sure how she knew exactly where it ended, but like everything these days, he assumed magic was responsible. He’d like to figure it out eventually, but he’d need to get the use of his mana back before that.

So he wasn’t sure how to find her other than waiting at the camp, without getting hopelessly lost himself. He spun on his heel, walking back quickly. He needed to be there when she returned, to thank her.

He broke through the foliage, emerging into the brisk afternoon air, though warmer than it should have been given the time of year. A quick look around let him know she still hadn’t returned, so he walked to the firepit, taking a seat on an upturned log. He sat, hand tapping on his thigh anxiously. He looked around, suddenly unable to sit still, now that he had something to wait for. He looked down at the coals of the fire, an idea forming in his mind.

He stood, looking around for a suitable spot. Finding wood for the fire probably took even Naya some time, so he’d help out. He was still figuring out how to do everything one handed, but he could at least collect fallen branches and kindling. It was something, at least. So he moved around the edge of the clearing, picking up the few fallen twigs and larger branches, cradling them awkwardly with his stump as he went. He hadn’t even found a full armload when he’d cleared out the area around the camp, so he was forced to walk further into the forest to find more.

------

Naya lounged high in a large pine tree, the icy limbs swaying gently, as she gazed out, listening to Aran stumble through the woods. She’d been watching him for a while now, interested in his newfound purpose. He’d been quiet since she’d rescued him, and hadn’t spoken hardly at all. She’d only felt anger and pain through their bridge, though their connection was muddied and incoherent at times. Even now, she could feel emotions washing across it, uncontrolled and fragmented through the bridge.

She wrinkled her nose. She was not going to enjoy fixing that, and neither would he. Even Bu’umo would likely feel some of the feedback through their connection. That’s why they’d spent all morning checking the perimeter, making sure they would be undisturbed. She watched the human collect his sticks a while longer, struggling and often failing to hold them in the crook of his mangled arm. Anger boiled off of him, radiating through their link like an icy frost, prickling as flowed over.

She finally roused herself out of the tree, climbing down gracefully. She landed after an entirely superfluous flip, trying to psych herself up. She moved quickly between the trees, arriving back at the fire pit to sit down and settle herself in time to watch Aran emerge from the trees as he returned with his latest batch of wood. He started when he noticed her sitting there, standing in place hesitantly before approaching.

The emotions flowing over their link were a torrent, scraping her across her mind in a flood, but she pushed through. As he approached, he opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand. “Stop. Please sit. We have much to discuss.” His brow furrowed, but he sat.

“The bond that we formed, it was meant to be temporary, so that I could learn your language and little else.” She paused, and he nodded his understanding. “However, when you were captured and reached out, it acted as… a catalyst, of sorts. The energy required to reach out across space through the fading bond was enough to make it a permanent addition to each of us.”

Naya paused, dreading this next part. “However, the bond is incomplete. Too much time had passed, and it fractured during the sealing. This is causing some… feedback.”

Aran frowned. “What do you mean, feedback? I haven’t felt anything.”

Naya leveled her gaze at him. “That is because I do not let my emotions flow over the bridge.” She closed her eyes, letting just a touch of her frustration seep into the bridge.

Aran jerked away as if slapped. “Ugh, what… what was that?” He asked, eyeing her warily.

She smiled softly, “Just a bit of frustration at this situation. That was just a small part of my consciousness that I allowed you to feel. However, you lack the same training in restraint. So every emotion you feel, I feel too. It is… difficult.” She laughed at the sudden guilt and shame that flitted across his face and their bond. “Do not worry, Aran. It can be fixed.”

Her voice grew serious. “But it will be difficult, and painful. The bridge is permanent, and without someone far more skilled than I, cannot be removed. However, we can fix it so that it does not share our emotions so… directly. That will make it much easier to control what we share, and have a bit more privacy.”

Aran nodded slowly. “I’m fairly accustomed to pain, so I’m ready. When do we start?”

Naya smiled. “Right now.” She moved to sit on the grass, motioning for him to sit down across from her. Crossing her legs, she waited for him to sit down. Seeing him sit several feet away, she rolled her eyes. “Closer, Aran. This will require us to grasp hands.”

Aran grimaced, cheeks darkening in embarrassment as he sidled closer, so that their knees were nearly touching. She grasped his hand, laying her other hand atop them both, before closing her eyes.

Nothing happened for a moment, before she opened her eyes, staring straight into Aran’s. “Prepare yourself. This will require a great deal of power, and I am not sure what you may see or feel.” With that, she released her mana, pouring it into the pattern in her palm as she felt the warmth of Aran’s mana on the other side. She forced more and more mana into it, until their mana met, forming a mass of jumbled, twisting forces. She instinctively guided their mana back into the pattern, but mixed this time. There was more resistance this time, as she had to force Aran’s mana to bend with hers, which was nearly impossible at first, until she felt his will recede, allowing her to take the lead. She let out a breath, heavy with effort. She slowly guided their mana through the pattern, feeling the movement mirrored in Aran as she started to burn in the gaps, filling it with intricate looping pathways, beautiful even as they burned into their beings. She felt Aran tense slightly at the pain, but otherwise remained still. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but continued. It would only take a few more moments, but each section seemed to take a lifetime to complete, the pain stretching time out like a bad dream. The pattern had never meant to be permanent, so it needed to be reworked entirely, or too much power would shatter it, which would be dangerous and painful for both of them.

So she pressed on, until finally, the bridge was complete. As her hold on the mana loosened, she felt Aran’s slip back across the link as her own returned to her. She sighed, relieved and opened her eyes. Aran likewise opened his eyes, letting out a stiff breath. “Lets not do that again,” he said, a small grin on his face. She laughed, laying back on the grass.

“Agreed. I think it's time for a nice nap.” She rolled over to her feet, stretching. She walked towards the den, looking back at him over her shoulder. “I’m going to rest for a bit, but Bu’umo will be out her if you need…” She stopped walking, frozen in place.

Aran stood, staring at her. “Naya? What’s wrong?”

“No. NO!” She screamed, eyes wide in horror as she looked at Aran, before they rolled back in her head, and she collapsed.