A name

Diago's injuries were far worse than Masley had imagined-treating the wounds of every size alone took the Night Elf nearly half a day. When Diago woke that afternoon, Masley was still cleaning his wounds. Even with healing spells, these external wounds needed cleaning to prevent inflammation and festering-a very real possibility in the hot climate of the Badlands. Spells were not all-powerful, after all.

In fact, Diago rather regretted waking so early. Not everyone could endure the feeling of being flayed and having their bones crushed. He lay on his side on a blanket, grimacing in pain. He could only remain in that position, because the ribs on that side were the only ones that had not broken, and his back, with not an inch of intact skin, obviously could not touch the ground either.

Diago's whole body spasmed with pain, but he still struggled to open his less swollen left eye-his right was swollen like a walnut and had no feeling at all, making him wonder whether it had gone blind-and saw, in disbelief, a yellow leopard lying lazily beside him. It seemed completely uninjured, only a little tired.

"Uh..." Diago stiffened his neck and squeezed a groan of indescribable meaning from his throat, as though only this could keep the fiercely erupting joy from bursting his chest. A drunken dizziness instantly clouded his central nervous system, leaving him dazed, and even his wounds seemed to hurt less.

"Feeling the pain now?" The Night Elf had not noticed this change. As he tended those frightening wounds, he mocked, "I really don't understand. Why did you insist on catching this leopard? Look, it may be big, but one of its fangs is broken. That's bound to affect its fighting ability."

His doubts clearly displeased the big cat. The beast pricked up its round ears, rhythmically slapped its long tail against the ground, and gave a low growl-signs that it was angry.

"If you don't want it to bite you, keep your mouth shut," Diago warned the Night Elf, taking its side. A little more clearheaded now, he extended his right hand-the only part of him besides his jaw that he could move-and gently stroked the big cat's head. The yellow leopard meekly accepted his soothing touch, narrowing its eyes in comfort and flattening its ears against its head, looking docile and content. Diago felt a warm surge from the creature, as though their souls were linked. Even though they were two entirely different forms of life, he knew, though he was not quite sure how, that it would stay by his side until death took one of them.

"Suit yourself. You're free to catch whatever pet you like!" the Night Elf said angrily. He yanked a long thorn out of Diago's back with no gentleness at all.

Diago let out a miserable cry. But instead of complaining about the pain, he grinned in satisfaction, looking like a drooling idiot.

It had to be said that Diago had received truly generous benefits from crossing worlds. His physical constitution was now astonishingly good, and after a week, he could perform some simple activities-but we must admit that the Druid's care and healing played a greater part in this. After two weeks, his body had almost completely recovered. Even the dent in the top of his head had been filled by Masley with some kind of plant amber. It was truly miraculous. Diago felt as though the amber were part of his own body. When he touched it, he could even feel his fingers through the amber on his head. The scalp around the dent soon grew over it, and nothing on the surface of his skin suggested that anything was buried beneath it.

Masley Bearhide suggested that they leave as soon as possible. They had already lost too much time. Two weeks of caring for an injured patient day and night had exhausted the young elf's last reserves of patience. Diago took his advice, and the two decided to leave the following day.

On the night before their departure, Diago sat beside the campfire, gazing into the flames and recalling his dreamlike experiences over this period, while the yellow leopard Broken Tooth sat beside him. Over two weeks of contact, the bond between man and leopard had deepened by leaps and bounds, leaving even the Night Elf a little jealous. Though that might have sounded somewhat incongruous, it was the truth. Despite his deep gratitude toward the Night Elf who had cared for him so attentively, Diago's attention during this time had indeed been focused entirely on his pet.

"What should I name you? You're a feline, so names like Lucky and Fortune are out. Those belong exclusively to the doggies..." Diago muttered to himself as he scratched the soft fur beneath the big cat's jaw. Across the campfire, Masley sat far away from him, his face wearing an unmistakable "I don't know this guy" expression. In the Night Elf's eyes, this obsessed human hunter clearly no longer qualified as a normal creature.

"How about Tom? But that stupid cat always seems a little dim, a little unfortunate..." Diago rambled, but Broken Tooth seemed uninterested. He glanced between the big cat's legs. "Whoa, a lady, too. Looks like Garfield won't work either. He's a rascal..."

"Doraemon?" He pondered for a moment, but still found a Japanese name hard to accept deep down. Just then, he suddenly remembered a name he had seen in fantasy fiction before crossing worlds. "How about Khanifa?"

The big cat's drooping ears suddenly perked up. She rolled over and sprang nimbly to her feet, giving a few low, gentle cries like a real kitty. She rubbed gently against Diago's knee, looking expectantly at the hunter with wide, liquid eyes. For a moment, Diago almost thought this adorable creature was about to pounce and cling to his leg.

"You really like that name?" he asked quietly, seeking confirmation from the big cat. Though the bond between their souls was growing ever closer, only two short weeks had passed, and the two still had to communicate through words or gestures.

In Azeroth, a true name was considered an important part of a person, possessing a certain mysterious power. It differed from an ordinary name: it was a mark of recognition bestowed upon certain powerful beings by the laws of the world, often awakening only when its owner's power reached a certain level. Some spellcasters believed that knowing a person's true name allowed them to control that person through certain magic. In fact, such things really existed and had happened more than once. Take the immensely powerful but equally unfortunate demon Razelikh: after someone controlled him through his true name, he was brutally dismembered, and the pieces of his corpse were scattered everywhere. Rumor even spoke of a book in Auchindoun's Shadow Labyrinth called the Demon Name Register, which recorded the true name of every demon that had ever existed or currently existed. It was practically a divine weapon against demons, and someone was said to have once used it to defeat the famous demon Varedis.

Diago had always thought true names were merely a legend, or at most a means of intimidation. It was like Achilles in Greek mythology, whose name inspired awe everywhere. Even when his friend wore his golden armor and went into battle under his name, it could still terrify the Trojans into fleeing at the first sign of him. But judging by the big cat's reaction, the meaning of names in Azeroth was clearly not as simple as it appeared. Even if it was not necessarily a true name, this name from another plane was as renowned as its owner-that legendary black panther.

The big cat nodded-Diago judged that her bobbing her head up and down ought to count as nodding.

"All right, that's your name from now on, Khanifa," he said, stroking the big cat's head. Beneath his palm, she purred in comfort.

By the firelight, Diago carefully examined Khanifa's teeth. From the outside, however, he could only see the saber fang that was still intact.

The tooth was very well maintained. It seemed the yellow leopard treasured her sole remaining saber fang. It was a full fifteen centimeters long and slightly yellow.

"Open your mouth. Let me look at the broken one," Diago said, tapping her fang gently. The big cat obligingly opened her mouth.

Diago gently parted the damp fur around the big cat's mouth and examined the canine, of which only a broken stump roughly five centimeters long remained. The broken tooth had neither cavities nor cracks and was still reasonably intact.

"Buddy, I'll fit you with a good tooth, I promise." He stroked the surface of the broken tooth. Perhaps from prolonged biting, its tip had worn blunt, but it was very smooth. "Would you like mithril or thorium?"

Luck was a difficult thing to explain. Perhaps this was a period when Diago's good fortune was coming in a burst. On the second day after they set out, at the western edge of the Dustbowl, Diago encountered a wandering cheetah spirit, which delighted him beyond expectation. Most beasts' souls returned to the earth after death; only particularly powerful beasts remained in Azeroth as spirits.

After making some preparations, he performed a ritual through which he invited it to become his guardian spirit. To be honest, he was very apprehensive at the time, because these beasts had often been killed, and their souls usually harbored extreme hatred for the race that had killed them. Hunters whose rituals failed were not uncommon. Fortunately, however, Diago succeeded. The cheetah spirit accepted him and became his guardian beast spirit. It seemed this beast might have died naturally rather than being killed-at least, not by a human.

Khanifa showed no resistance upon seeing the spirit of her own kind, nor did she react particularly strongly. Instead, when Diago successfully cast his first Aspect of the Cheetah, the big cat took a great interest in his sudden increase in speed and raced with him for quite a while.

The Night Elf Druid, however, had quite a few objections to his "enslavement" of a beast spirit. In his view, this violated the Druids' way of nature. To them, every soul ought to be free, and Diago's actions were more like those of a Warlock who manipulated souls.

But Diago disagreed. That evening, he sat beside the campfire, grilling skewers of lizard meat-a large dryland lizard that had come out looking for food at dusk had unfortunately encountered Khanifa and ended up as someone else's dinner-while debating with the Night Elf. "Look, we didn't kill this lizard to make money or for any other reason like that. We use its meat to fill our stomachs and its hide to keep warm..."

At this point, he raised a hand and pointed at the cloak on the Night Elf's back. He had sewn it from the hide of that lizard, which had been a full five feet long. Thanks to his master-level leatherworking skills, this chameleon cloak was not ornate, but it was sturdy and durable, and when necessary, it could also improve the Druid's stealth in cheetah form.

"...nothing wasted, making perfect use of everything it has to offer." At these words, the Druid's brows could not help twitching several times, but Diago kept spouting away, leaving him no chance to interrupt. "But we don't kill beasts to capture their spirits. Yes, we're intelligent beings, but we're part of nature first and anything else second. Only when necessary do we take what we need from nature, rather than wickedly enslaving souls. Taking these things doesn't upset nature's balance..."

Out of curiosity, Diago had read a little about the way of the Shaman and Druid teachings before crossing worlds. Broadly speaking, the relationship between hunters and the wilderness had quite a few things in common with both, to a certain extent.

"There's no master-servant relationship between hunters and guardian spirits. They stand as equals, more like a harmonious symbiosis. Hunters ask rather than command them, and guardian spirits enhance their abilities in response to those requests. But guardian spirits never take part in battle directly or do anything else for hunters. Enhancing a hunter's abilities is already the limit of what they can do."

"The spirit of the hawk makes a hunter's shots more accurate and powerful. The spirit of the cheetah increases a hunter's running speed by at least thirty percent. The spirit of the viper helps a hunter recover energy faster. The spirit of the monkey lets a hunter dodge attacks more nimbly... Different beast spirits grant hunters different enhancements, but few hunters can collect every beast spirit, because these encounters usually depend on chance rather than deliberate pursuit. Not every beast leaves a spirit behind after death, but few hunters kill living creatures to capture beast spirits. All that would produce is a vengeful spirit, not a guardian spirit..."

Across the campfire, Masley Bearhide quietly listened to Diago's account. His magical sight could clearly perceive things humans could not. He saw that beside Diago, the cheetah's soul was curled up lazily just like Khanifa, looking very comfortable.

"I think you're right, master!" The elven Druid bowed respectfully to Diago, just as he would before a true Archdruid.

Note: Actually, Broken Tooth's teeth are perfectly intact in the game. I wondered about this for a long time too, but in this story, we need one to be broken. That's what she gets for being called Broken Tooth...