Mother’s Love.
Compared to mana or Blood, it didn’t seem all that powerful. As was the case with both of those, this “Love” was a supernatural energy that was part of the basic make-up of this universe which I couldn’t fully comprehend. These energies were the only things that transcended the laws of nature, as I once understood them: movement without force, heat without fuel, effect without cause.
Or, in this case, growth without constraint.
Growth was the core function of this energy, based on what I had been taught. That was hardly surprising, as the source of the energy was supposedly the world-tree, a thing of growth itself. It was possible that the squirrels just didn’t have enough time in a single life to explore more ways of using this energy—and nothing but oral lessons to pass on generational knowledge—but taking it at face value, it was still an interesting power.
I had assumed the worlds I was born into would have increasingly more powerful magic as my stats grew, but these first few worlds were hand-picked for me. Looking at what was supernaturally possible across the three, they seemed to be sort of backwards. This world seemed, overall, much simpler to handle than my life as an Uli, and while that had been a complicated life for me, morally, it was also less complex in a lot of ways than my life as Tovar, particularly when it came to the complexity of spellcasting.
It was more likely the chosen progression wasn’t so much about adapting to the supernatural as it was adapting to different worlds and living as different species. I would reincarnate into worlds with more powerful magic over time, but there was no real reason for me to assume that this world held deeper secrets to tap beyond what I could learn from the squirrels.
If I suspected there were, I might have tried to reach out to the admin to find out. Surely they were working behind the scenes to do… something, as was the case with the last two. I didn’t want to deal with anything like that in this life, so I was willing to accept my lessons, taking them at face value.
Growth skills were still pretty interesting. [Generative Growth] allowed Love to be used back onto the tree itself, to guide branches or encourage budding, but even the most adept squirrel with the highest Love stat was limited by their short lifespan. While the tree itself seemed to provide this energy freely each day, even the most dedicated squirrel who pushed their skills as hard as they could every day could only grow the stat so far.
Guiding tree growth was a generational affair, and primarily was a way to encourage new growth near inhabited areas, particularly for our food. Without, the squirrels would voraciously strip the local length of branch bare of buds and be forced to be nomadic.
The tree was constantly growing, branching, and budding. It would grow without our input. And the energy we were using supposedly came from the tree itself. Couldn’t it just use that energy to grow faster? It seemed inefficient to pass out the energy to the creatures living on it, then rely on them to reinvest that energy back into the tree in order to sustain the necessary growth rate.
It seemed to be some kind of symbiotic relationship that was beyond me, but all my theories were pure guesswork and based on limited and questionable information.
I could probably do quite a lot with that skill and my stats, but I didn’t want to disrupt the balance. Partially that was because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, and partially it was common sense. Even if we weren’t serving some greater purpose for the tree, there was still the concern of the local region adapting to a growth rate that couldn’t be sustained once I left. Any boom time I created by applying my reincarnated stats would risk a bust time to follow.
Besides, there were other areas I could invest my energy.
While I had already picked up healing skills in both lives, there was a healing skill in this world as well, [Restorative Growth]. Like [Blood Restoration], it was a way to recover from injury or damage, though from what I understood, this skill could be used on other squirrels as well through contact, similar to how the squirrels grew the tree.
I had never even been injured yet in this life, though, and I could see myself going through this life without ever being injured. In fact, I had rarely seen anyone injured, save for when I saw a young squirrel climb too high and fall off on of the branches that grew upward. He was rushed to one of the elder squirrels who apparently used the skill on him, and he was back to normal the next day. That was how I learned about the skill.
Looking down at my hands, I shrugged, and lifted my left hand up to my mouth. I bit down on the flesh between my thumb and fingers, increasing the pressure until I broke the skin slightly and started to bleed.
“Ouch,” I muttered, as I pulled my hand away and looked at the wound.
Liquid crystal dripped from the bite, an iridescent fluid quite unlike the blood I was used to. That wasn’t too surprising to me, since I had assumed my biology would be different in this world, but it was a bit unnerving.
Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on healing, the same way I had needed to multiple times in my last life. It took a little while to dial it in to this new energy and my new body, but soon the skill clicked.
[Restorative Growth 1]
Basic self-healing and weak external contact-healing using Love.
My hand was almost immediately healed to perfection, but that wasn’t too surprising to me. I had over a hundredfold the Love that a squirrel would normally start with.
That was one of the reasons I was reluctant to immediately grab the other major growth skill I was aware of, [Transformative Growth]. This was the skill that allowed squirrels to modify themselves, growing antlers and patagia, which seemed more cultural than functional in how they used it. I couldn’t help but think that it could have a lot of functional use, if the squirrels lives weren’t so simple.
The patagia that were so common seemed to be a functional thing to protect them from falls, but I had never actually seen a squirrel from up above soaring by, and only rarely saw a squirrel glide over our own branch from a higher growth region to a lower one. Perhaps the risk of missing their target and tumbling down into the darkness below was too high.
I wanted to grow these myself, but I was worried I wouldn’t be able to control the vast amount of energy I had, and people would notice if I grew them in one fell swoop. Most squirrels could only use so much Love per day, forcing them to grow their patagia bit by bit over time.
Unfortunately, this kind of growth seemed to be purely additive. I couldn’t grow something to test the skill, then un-grow them. Perhaps I could grow the gliding wings then cut them off and heal the damage, now that I had [Restorative Growth], but that seemed excessive.
The simpler thing to do would be to leave home first, then acquire the skill.
With my mother’s pregnancy announcement and my talk with my father, that was the direction I was leaning in. But before I could do that, I needed to have a conversation with my sister.
*
Rukechi was laying around near our burrow, chewing on a piece of leaf. Seeing her like that, the resemblance to our father was uncanny. She definitely inherited his laziness.
I flopped down next to her, and she tore me off a strip of leaf, which I accepted. Tearing a mouthful off with my teeth, I began to chew. Immature buds were better than leaves, more tender and easier to eat, but with little else to do but lay around masticating, a squirrel could also get by on the more mature growth just as well.
Once I had chewed up the bite of leaf fully, I swallowed, but I didn’t take another bite.
“So I’m thinking about leaving home to travel.”
Rukechi’s head turned to me, eyes wide. “Really? …Is this because Mom’s pregnant?”
“Somewhat,” I said. “But also… well, you know I don’t want to have a litter of my own. I figured I should see more of the tree, rather than sit around on this branch for the rest of my life.”
My sister’s eyes narrowed. “This is Kiritik’s fault,” she growled. “I’ll throw him off the branch, that little—”
“No,” I interrupted with a laugh. “I can handle him. This… is for me.”
Rukechi continued to grumble for a bit, before it puttered out. She hadn’t actually stopped reclining, despite getting angry on my behalf. I shook my head a bit.
“Do you want to come with?” I asked.
Having my sister accompany me would mean answering some tough questions about my abilities, but I didn’t want to leave her behind without making the offer. I loved her, and would have been happy to stay together despite the difficulties it would have brought, though I knew the answer before she even responded.
She shook her head. “I like it here. I… think I want to have a litter, at least, before I even think about leaving.”
I expected as much. Rukechi still living with me in our mother’s burrow, attending classes like a child despite being grown, was almost certainly due to my influence. I had worried that I had held her back this long, weighing her down and stopping her from living the life she wanted. Us parting ways was probably the best thing for her, as well, even if it would be hard on both of us.
Squirrel lives were short, though, and goodbyes were fairly common. I rolled over and embraced her in a body-crushing hug. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” she mumbled into my fur.
I left her to her leaf with mixed feelings. I was pretty sure this was the right decision for both of us, despite it being hard. Looking up at the tree, I wondered if there really was anything worth seeing, or if it would be a waste of my time.
Well, I had my stats behind me, and now that I had [Restorative Growth], I didn’t need to worry too hard about pushing myself to my limits. Maybe I could climb a branch or two, see how other squirrels lived and take in some stories from other settlements, and then glide back down to see Rukechi again, if she stayed here.
I debated going to see Teotikit again to let him know I was leaving, but realized there was no point. I liked the dude, but he wouldn’t expect to be told as much, and our last conversation was effectively a goodbye in the first place. I didn’t need to let Tochiki know I wouldn’t be showing up to classes anymore, either, since they weren’t that structured in the first place.
So instead I made my way to my mother’s burrow. Now that I had made the decision, and with nothing else holding me back, there was no time like the present.
My mother glanced up at me as I entered the burrow. She was ripping a leaf into small strips, practically threads, and using them to fill out the nest in preparation of her upcoming litter. That was where Rukechi must have gotten the leaf she was chewing on.
Seeing the preparations, I found myself hesitate slightly. It could be fun to be around a bunch of siblings, though it wouldn’t really be different from seeing the other young squirrels grow up around me over my life so far. Squirrel children were pretty useless, doing nothing but sleeping and eating in the nest until they were old enough to walk, and then it wasn’t long before they were running around as little people of their own.
“Need another leaf? I can go grab you one,” I said.
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” she responded with a smile. “I’m just getting a head start. I’ve still got lots of time before I pop.”
I nodded. “I talked to Dad. Mentioned you were pregnant again.”
“How is Teotikit?”
“Same as ever.”
My mom chuckled. “Good. I can’t imagine him changing.”
“Me either,” I agreed. “But it did get me thinking about my own future, and how I need to change.”
“Oh?” she said, and her face grew more somber as she looked at me more closely. “Ah.”
“Yeah. I already talked to Rukechi. She’s going to stay, but I’m going to set out.”
My mother came over and took me into her arms. “I hope you don’t feel like I’m pushing you out. We can dig you a burrow nearby if you want to stay.”
“No,” I said, even though that was more or less how I felt. But I knew I had overstayed, as far as squirrel culture went, and that I was being a burden by staying so long. “It’s my decision. I want to try and climb the tree.”
“Okay,” she said, stroking the back of my head. “Have a safe journey.”
Despite my experiences leaving home in past lives, this still felt a bit brisk to me. Maybe it was because I had been fairly comfortable and happy here, so the decision to leave had been less straightforward. Or maybe it was just how rapidly life moved for the short-lived squirrels.
With nothing to pack, and no other stops to make, all it took was a few words. Just like that, the first chapter of this short life was finished.
I parted from my mother and left her to her nesting. Without looking back, I started walking towards the trunk.