Taming Destiny - a Tamer Class isekai/portal survival fantasy.

We’re heading back towards the village with the last light of the day shining on us. I’d like to stay at the den for another night but the fact is that I haven’t been to the village since before leaving to bring Kalanthia down. I probably need to show my face, even if I turn around and come back here tomorrow. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that – I’ve set lots of balls rolling and need to check on where they’re going.

Raven needed a bit more time to think about what I suggested to him, so I’m giving him the space to do so. I think he wants to find out what happens in the next few days. I suspect he’s hoping that exposure to the Energy-dense environment might help the hatchlings to heal.

Personally, I doubt that there will be much improvement, if any. Too much Energy got them into this situation; why would more of it get them out of it? I mean, ‘the hair of the dog’ is a traditional remedy, but I’ve never known it to work. But unless Raven agrees to my price, the hatchlings aren’t really my concern.

It has, however, made me reconsider putting the danaris hatchlings as close to the Pure Energy stream as I can. If too much Pure Energy has done so much damage to alcaoris hatchlings, creatures who, according to my Inspect during our battle, take more Energy to Evolve and are more powerful for their Tier in comparison to others, are my danaris hatchlings going to be any better off?

Of course, I’m not going to be dumping my grubs into the Pure Energy directly, but it does warn me to be cautious and look at how the Energy density is affecting them. I’ll probably end up just leaving them to Penelope and Hades to keep an eye on. They’ve already been doing that while guarding their eggs at both the old den and here – maybe I just need to formalise that a little. With them needing to look after their own eggs, at least one of them has been home at all times which makes them perfect for the role. As long as the hatchlings have enough food to eat, they don’t start trying to wander off anyway – if they aren’t eating, they’re sleeping.

As we travel, I take advantage of Tarra being part of the group to get started on checking up on her progress.

How is the research going? I ask her though our Bond. We’re travelling in different parts of the group so that’s the most efficient way. And the most private – no chance of anyone over-hearing when it’s a private line between us.

Which research? The research for the growth of plants, the growth of animals, or the healing for the Great Predator’s cub. Hints of nervousness come through with the last.

All of them, I answer. I don’t blame Tarra for her continued caution around Kalanthia. Despite her saying that she’d consider the slate cleared, I’ve been a little apprehensive that Kalanthia might negatively react to Tarra’s presence – with the shaman gone, Tarra is the only one of Lathani’s main tormentors still living. Though the big cat did narrow her eyes and growl threateningly at the herbalist as she walked into the clearing, she didn’t attack. As always, I’m impressed at her self-control. I don’t think that I could have been able to be as disciplined in her place.

At least we managed to get through the tour without bloodshed, which is the best I can hope for. It would be helpful if Tarra has made some progress to help Lathani, though, as I’d be able to present that to Kalanthia as a preemptive reason not to change her mind.

I have made some progress, Tarra answers, then pauses, uncharacteristically hesitant.

That’s good, I say when the silence continues beyond a normal pause for thought. What progress?

It…occurred to me that I have previously increased the growth of a creature, she ventures, then hesitates again. It takes me a long moment to understand what she’s getting at.

Are you talking about what happened to Lathani? We’re not doing that to anything else – do you know how much damage it’s done to her? I actually stop and stare at her across the other side of the group.

My pause makes the others around me have to pull up sharply so they don’t accidentally knock into me. I send an apologetic glance around, accompanied by the appropriate feeling across the Bond, and then start moving again.

You’re not suggesting doing the same thing to other creatures as you did to Lathani, are you? I ask Tarra again warningly.

Most of what happened to the Great Predator’s cub was not due to my concoctions, Tarra says, not answering my question. I have a nasty feeling that it’s because the answer isn’t what I want to hear.

Then what was it due to? I ask, willing to hear her out for now, though wary of her attempts to convince me.

A combination of everything. My concoctions were part of it, I do not deny that. But Shaman’s rituals and magic were significantly more impactful, I believe.

You believe, I repeat, sceptically.

Tamer, one of my concoctions was designed to direct the Energy she had in her system and the Energy she absorbed into her growth and maturity. The other was designed to help her absorb more Energy so that more could be directed into her growth or, when Shaman did her rituals, into her work. Neither of them were designed to impact the Energy system in her body.

Uh huh, I answer, continuing to be cautious, though it does sound like the shaman was the main reason for Lathani’s issues. And why do you think any of that might help us with our farming objectives?

I have been thinking about your words a few cycles ago. From what you said, part of our concern should be about the resources the beasts we cage will need while they grow. I think the first concoction might help grow animals more quickly, reducing the resources they would need to reach maturity. The concoction might be able to affect plants too if I can adjust it sufficiently.

Are you sure that will not cause damage? I ask a little anxiously. It sounds good – indeed, that’s the whole reasoning behind growth hormones: maximising output for the input. But the risk of damage is something I’m very concerned about, especially since having to repair the internal matrices of all my Bound touched by Raven’s acidic mana, and trying to repair the damage done to Lathani.

I have tested it on multiple samurans. It was to try to reduce the number of casualties among the hatchlings. I thought that if they grew more quickly, they might survive longer.

And? I ask, interested in the results.

They struggled to adapt to so quickly increasing size. It caused them to make errors in the forest, many of which proved…fatal. Among those who survived, only one has so far made it to Evolved, though it was relatively late for his hatching. Finds-a-bug. He is eleven cycles old now, and has been a Warrior for two great cycles. Your Unevolved assistant with the glowing rocks is another of that hatching. Her rendition is brisk, but I sense the hurt and guilt beneath it. Presumably for causing more deaths among the hatchlings when her intention was to save them. It’s interesting that Happy is one of the group experimented on.

Do you think that the concoction you gave them for increased growth caused the delay in Evolution? Is it stopping others like Happy from advancing? I ask her warily. She avoids my gaze.

It seems likely that it’s causing the delay. Whether it’s limiting their advancement, I don’t have any way of telling, Tarra replies without looking at me, then turns her head to meet my eyes. But perhaps you can.

Me? I ask in surprised reflex, but my brain quickly catches up with her train of thought. Because I intervened in Fenrir’s Evolution? Or because I repaired the internal matrices of most of my Bound?

Both, she says briskly. No one I’ve ever known has been able to look at someone else’s Energy system. Few enough manage to really look at their own. I have never been able to help anyone with their Evolution despite my efforts. You have. Perhaps you could look at the Energy systems of the samurans who survived that hatching and see if there is a reason for why they have not been able to Evolve.

I’d have to Dominate them to do that, though, I point out. You know – that space where we spoke after our fight and then you accepted my Bond.

Tarra sends across a feeling of nonchalance.

For the chance to Evolve, I doubt that there is any Unevolved samuran in this village who would deny you. And if they do Evolve, you will force them to accept your Bond anyway, won’t you?

She…has a point. Perhaps it’s worth taking a look at. It would reassure me if I know that the concoctions aren’t actually causing any permanent damage.

Then again, we’re talking about raising creatures for the slaughter anyway. Are they going to live long enough for damage to cause a problem?

It’s something I haven’t thought about. Farming as a concept is just something that happens. Farmers raise chickens or pigs or cows or sheep and then their meat ends up in supermarkets where I buy it. Bringing it to the samurans seemed a good way of helping them support what is likely to be an explosive population growth – more hatchlings surviving means more adults, more adults means more demand on the forest resources. Therefore, supplying at least some of those resources through farming which can be done more intensively than relying on hunting animals is a good idea.

But that doesn’t take into account the fact that in this new world, every creature has at least the potential of becoming as sapient as Kalanthia, Raven, Bastet, the samurans, or me. Heck, every creature that makes it to Tier two seems to be able to start communicating mentally in a direct fashion, even Fenrir who only does it in short bursts.

It adds a moral dilemma which I wasn’t expecting. Chickens on Earth can never become more than what they are – relatively dumb birds which eat, sleep, lay eggs, and shit everywhere. And get transfixed by a straight line drawn on the ground. They can’t become sapient in the way that the killer chickens here probably can, even if they are probably just as murderous.

Then again, didn’t those animal rights activists on Earth complain about just this? That pigs in particular have an intelligence level not that much different from children at a certain level of development and that most farming practices even on Earth were cruel?

I’d never paid such things much attention – I liked my steak and my sausages and my KFC. I didn’t much care whether the eggs I bought were from caged or free-range hens. Maybe I should have.

But regardless, the fact is that the samurans are primarily carnivorous. They’re not like humans who can go vegetarian, or even vegan and, as long as they get the right balance of different foods, can be healthy. The samurans only get about twenty percent of their nutrition from non-animal sources, and even then they can go without vegetation for a prolonged time without suffering significant effects. Which means that cultivating plants is only half the story.

Of course, I could choose not to interfere with the samurans at all. I could leave them with their death rate that sees only a handful of hatchlings survive to become adults in every hatching. It’s worked for them.

On the other hand, it’s also meant that the Unevolved have been treated like second-class citizens, and left to starve unless they are good hunters or gatherers, or have been lucky enough to catch the eye of a Pathwalker and become an assistant. Who knows how many advancements their civilisation would have made if they were less focussed on just getting enough to eat.

Maybe…maybe a herd of beasts would be willing to have some of their children taken away as long as they have shelter, food, and safety? It wouldn’t be much different from normal life, but there would be less uncertainty for them….

I shake myself out of my musing. Something to consider later when the samurans have been able to round up some of the species which might be appropriate. And that can only happen when we’ve figured out a way to feed them.

I’ll think about it, I say to Tarra realising that I’ve left her hanging for far too long while buried in my thoughts. Maybe she realised that as she doesn’t seem annoyed. What progress have you made on treatments for Lathani, then?