The journey back had been much easier. Not only because the storms got less intense as Ouzin moved farther from the Hiskar but because of his new powers. As Umil’owan had said, once Ouzin stepped out of the Hiskar, they couldn’t speak to each other anymore, but he still felt Umil’owan’s presence very strongly. Through this awareness, Ouzin was able to get impressions of what Umil’owan was trying to communicate. As the sand storms started battering against him again, he felt an impulse from Umil’owan. He stretched his hand in front of him, and immediately, power surged out of his palm. The mana coalesced, and a shield of light formed in front of him. Once the shield was raised, it seemed like a connection was made in his mind. He somehow knew exactly how to create another shield and how to expand, shrink, and strengthen the current one.

As Ouzin walked, he experimented more with his powers and discovered new aspects of them. It was again like the feeling of discovering a limb that was always there but that had never been used before. He created various types of shields, which were made from pure mana, but manifested in bright light, which was Umil’owan’s nature. He’d known that forming a pact would change him, but the extent of it was shocking. He was walking much faster and was even running large stretches of the journey without exerting much energy or feeling exhaustion. His vision had changed drastically. Even through the thick sand and dust swirling up around him, he could see as if he was standing in an open field engulfed in sunlight. His other senses were also enhanced, though not to the degree of his eyesight.

The most significant change, though, was with his psycor. Many bistians were born with dense psycors that allowed them to manipulate a decent amount of mana, so telekinesis was common enough. Ouzin was an exception in that regard. His innate mana manipulation abilities were minimal. He could move a table or a chair a short distance, but nothing much larger, and not for very long. It was only natural that he did not give his psycor much use, but with access to Umil’owan’s powers and mana, that had all changed. He felt like he could lift a building.

He pointed a finger in front of him. His psycor fluttered in response, and from the tip of his finger, a blast of pure psychic force split the walls of sand ten feet in front of him. He raised both hands and again, channeling his powers, held open the split he’d made. For a few moments, he walked through the storm as effortlessly as a stroll through his family’s gardens.

“This is so fun!” Ouzin yelled. He glanced at his map. Only one day left to get back. If Ouzin was moving as fast as he could now, he would have been able to make it back home two days early, but he’d deliberately taken his time. For one, it was fun exploring his new powers, but it wasn’t like he was excited to return home anyway.

Ouzin stopped walking. “This will be a good place to camp for tonight,” he whispered, looking at the unimpressive patch of yellow ground. He felt a tinge of guilt, knowing that he could still cover much of the remaining distance today, but he tamped it down. He created a domed shield around himself, then sat and pulled out some of the sealed meals inside his backpack. The backpack and everything in it had been dumped on him when Kipalo dropped him off. Meals, water, snacks, a sleeping bag, and a tent, all perfectly arranged and rationed with attached explanations for each item so that even an idiot would figure it out.

“I wonder if you can taste the things I do,” Ouzin said aloud, speaking to Umil’owan. He flicked his finger over the glyph on the side of the food package, and it began heating up. After a minute, the glow on the glyph died, and he opened the package.

The scents of their chef’s flimer steak and tirol wafted through the air. “One thing I’ll say is that you’ll always be able to taste new foods through our pact. I guarantee it. I hope you enjoy this Umil… can I call you Umil?”

He, of course, didn’t get a response, but he didn’t sense any negative emotions from the pact, so he figured it was ok. “Umil it is then.”

He ate in silence and made sure to savor each bite, for Umil. He scraped up and ate every grain of tirol, then placed the empty package back in his backpack. He pulled out his sleeping bag, swiped the activation glyph, then stepped back to let it expand. He didn’t touch the tent which he’d used on the first leg of the journey. Once he got home, a proper demonstration of his new skill and power would be required, so he needed to practice even in his sleep. If he failed to keep his shield up throughout the night, then he’d wake up to being buried by the sand.

He settled into the sleeping bag, then raised his hands in front of his face and focused on his fingertips. From the tip of each claw, small balls of light began to form and float in the air. He continued forming more little balls of light and spread them around him, controlling them en mass to move according to his directions. First, he conducted them with his hands, then eventually attempted to move them with his mind alone. It felt like trying to keep track of a thousand raindrops during a storm, and his concentration broke, sending the balls of light smashing into the shield.

“Ahhh!” he screamed and coved his eyes as bright light and heat engulfed the space. He peaked through his fingers as the light began to fade.

He checked to make sure none of his things were damaged, and fortunately, only his scarf had gotten a little burnt.

“Nice! Not bad right Umil?”

He stretched his fingers in front of him again and concentrated on them. The tips of his fingers started to fade, followed by his hands, until his hands up to his elbow turned invisible. Over the last four days, he’d come to understand Umil’s powers. He could control light, which was part of why his vision had improved so much, and he could control how much he saw. He could also do simple things like make light spheres of various sizes and move them around. The spheres could also be heated up and even create fire, but the larger they were, the slower they moved, and when they made fire, the fire never spread. It would always be limited to the circumference of the circle and then burn itself out. He wanted to experiment with lighting things on fire within the spheres and then pulling them out or see if he could move the fire spheres after they’d already ignited, but there wasn’t much he could burn in the Kroshta desert.

Ouzin continued to play with his powers, but in the back of his mind, his biggest concern was how his family would view his pact. He was beyond happy with Umil’owan’s constant reassuring presence and the resulting powers from their pact. It pained him to admit it, but he was even glad that he was forced on his Trigalan, but his family’s standards were incredibly high, so even if he was happy, it was hard to predict their reactions. Added to that was the fact that his pact hadn’t given him any new direction. Yes, the powers were great, but he was still in the same place he was before. No goals, talent, or accomplishments. He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping that the next day would never come.

# # #

His prayers were not answered, and the world-forest’s edge was finally back in view. From a distance, along the lines of private shuttles, his eyes were drawn to the one projecting his family’s crest high into the air. The crest was a beacon illuminating the surrounding area in the immaculate blue and gold light of the Laboneir family, and he knew that particular ship very well. The sleek build, plated in blue acronin metal and adorned with gold. His mother’s personal shuttle. He swallowed dryly and took a step back. Unconsciously, his body began to turn invisible.

Ouzin looked down at his auto-comm. There were still a few hours until he was technically supposed to arrive. Maintaining his invisibility and extending it to his clothes and backpack, he paced back and forth, making sure to stay far enough away that his family wouldn’t sense his presence.

“What do I do?” he whispered as he paced, each turn taking him a little farther back into the desert.

“I mean, obviously I have to go back… but… then what?” And that was the question that had plagued him long before his Trigalan. What was the point of all this? Sure, he had somewhat amazing powers now, but they were clearly bent towards battle or espionage, two things which he had absolutely no interest in getting involved with. He could already imagine his mother or Tilmaron trying to get him to become a Sha’kinal. He shook his head. No. No amount of new powers would make him worthy of such a role, but they’d probably make him join the Planetary Defense Division and try to bid for him to become a senior officer or something. A life of managing cases, fighting graule and petty criminals. He shook his head again. Absolutely not. He didn’t even want to think about the chance that they’d try to make him join the Intelligence Division.

He was about to take another step back when his eyes landed on the world-forest’s edge. It was fascinating how abruptly the rich, dark mauve dirt turned to the dry yellow ground of the Kroshta. Looking up, even with his enhanced vision, it was impossible to see the tops of the monumental world-trees. His eye’s landed on the edge again. His heart rate picked up, and a ridiculous thought began to take root. What lay at the roots of the world-trees? He’d spent his whole life up in the canopies, but now faced with the choice of going back up there, to the constant pressure of never measuring up, the deep shadows beckoned him. He glanced at his mother’s shuttle and could see nothing through the tinted windows, but he knew she was there. He was surprised that she’d even bothered to personally come. Was it from worry for him? Or to quickly access his usefulness?

He closed his eyes, and then his thoughts coalesced on one point again: the shadows beneath the world-trees. In a sense, that’s what he was in comparison to the rest of his family. They were glorious world-trees upon whose branches, cities, and great monuments were built. He was the shadow underneath it all that no one thought about. He opened his eyes. There had to be something of value within the shadows. After all, it was from there that the great trees sprouted.

Another glance to his mother’s shuttle, then back to the edge. Only a thin stretch of the yellow desert separated him from both. He glanced down at this auto-comm. One hour until they’d start wondering where he was. Before he could give room for doubt, he placed his auto-comm on the ground. When they began looking for him, the first thing they would do was track the location of his auto-comm. Next, he placed his backpack down. He was 90 percent sure there would be some kind of tracker in it as well. Finally, the scarf. He was sick of the useless thing. He folded it and shoved it under the backpack.

This was it. His blood was rushing so much that he felt dizzy. Ouzin steadied himself and cast one last look at the pile of stuff before turning back to the forest. His gaze deliberately skipped over the line of ships. Pulling more of Umil’s powers, he made sure that he was entirely cloaking himself from sight, and though he was not skilled at it, Ouzin tried to mask his presence. He tried not to, but it was impossible to resist the urge to give one last look at his mother’s shuttle. His breath caught as he met a pair of gold eyes in the distance. He stumbled back in shock and almost took off running until he realized she was just looking in the direction of the desert. He took a few steading breaths and tried to calm himself.

His mother leaned on the side of the shuttle as her eyes scanned the edge of the desert. He didn’t try to decipher her expression as it was the same stoic mask she wore in every situation. Ouzin looked away, then very carefully, but as quickly as possible, began making his way to the forest. He wasn’t noticed, and he didn’t glance back again until he disappeared into the wild alien underbelly of the world-forest.