My question was not immediately answered. Just when I was about to give up the question and leave my quarters, an almost hesitant message appeared.
[The Administrator answers: There is much I cannot currently say, little fang. Suffice to say that the slight understanding that you have gained regarding the inherent differences of castes does exist within the Keel. There… is much more to it than a mere social stratification, but as the System has given to you the title of the caste Zak'Tal, you can know that they made up the equivalent to the royal family of the Keel.]
Though I asked more questions about what exactly that meant, of what additional benefits would be given to a Zak'Tal as opposed to any other number of castes, of what demerits or difficulties would be given to a Zak'Tal, however many castes there were in total… but the Administrator and the [System] alike remained silent and unresponsive, uncaring of my curiosity. After my internal questions had long become naught more than an echoed memory within my mind, I knew that no more answers would come to me, at least not now.
I strode forward, about to exit my quarters once again, and I couldn't restrain my snort of frustration as another communication from the Administrator appeared before me.
[I can tell you this, though it is entirely unrelated to your previous queries: Most Titles are given through the agreement of two or more Administrators, and the bestowal of the Title Killer of Redael required the consensus of two or more Administrators. Five gave their consent, though all but me approved maliciously.]
Though I thought for a moment as the Administrator's words paused, I couldn't begin to understand why or how giving me a [Title] and additional stats could be malicious or in any way harmful. The Administrator continued, and though her words were communicated to me through writing and not her own voice, I could hear the fierce determination within her declaration.
[They mock you. They think that Redael was better than you, a stronger leader, a more natural guide with years of experience guiding and perfecting this swarm. Though those whelps do believe you could eventually grow into and fill his position, they think you will not have the opportunity to do so. They look down on you, and think you will grow complacent. Do not.]
Though my blood began pounding in my ears at the gall of these other Administrators, comparing me to Redael and considering him the superior being? I shook my head and couldn't help but ask–how was the Administrator telling me this? This information was much more detailed and immediately useful to me than knowing the different caste designations of the Keel.
[Were I not unbounded with respect to discussions regarding your need to flee the area, then I would not be able to speak with you so candidly at this time regarding these other Administrator's machinations.] Her contempt for these other Administrators, though not audible, was obviously dripping from her words. [However, you have asked System-granted questions to me regarding timelines of when to leave and to where, and thus my tongue is largely loosed when speaking about topics already broached. Though, this is a tangential topic, and I cannot speak any longer on it. Prove yourself, prove me.]
The Administrator's communications ended, and I got the firm impression that now, finally, she was actually done speaking with me. Just in time, I took several deep breaths and stopped myself from descending even deeper into a controlled rage at other supposedly intelligent Administrators and their obvious blindness. With a roll of my shoulders, I stood tall and strode forward out of my quarters and into the larger den.
Surrounding my personal quarters, dozens of keelish laid and lounged, waiting for me to exit, and Sybil was, of course, the first to notice my entrance. Before I could step closer and begin to speak to my assembled subordinates, she stepped to assume her usual position at my left hand.
"That was a short rest. Are you feeling wholly recovered? Vefir was concerned that you did not let him heal you before you went to rest, and I took the liberty of permitting him access to you while you slept." Sybil kept her voice low, though she sounded vaguely apologetic while she explained letting the healer look at my wounds. Internally, I cursed my recklessness, since though I hadn't received any real attacks, only my successful blocks, I had the obvious opportunity to make sure there were no hidden wounds, most especially since [Pain Tolerance] could potentially leave me thinking I was fine while a small wound festered. Beyond that, I needed to extend that trust to Vefir, as he, like Sybil, had no small amount of self-recrimination for his lack of battle prowess.
"I'll need to thank him for his attention. Will he be nearby after I meet with all these Alphas?"
"I can ensure that he will be." Sybil flared her frills in assent. As she prepared herself to turn away, a thought occurred to me, and I immediately reached out and grabbed her by the hand. Sybil, for her part, looked at me immediately, the faintest trace of alarm apparent in her body language as she looked for some hidden danger at my sudden movement.
"Where are our eggs?"
"Do you mean the remaining egg from Treel? It is where it has always been, though Vefir believes that the time for it to hatch is nearly upon us." Sybil's voice was level, though her confusion was obvious.
"No, I mean our eggs. Have you laid them yet?"
Sybil measured a look at me, until, after a pregnant moment's pause, my question finally made sense to her. "No, I have not laid any eggs." A faint hint of mirth shone behind her eyes, but my worry for our offspring continued to surge unabated within me.
"So do you know when you'll be laying them then? We won't have time to incubate them before we leave, so I don't know if they'll be able to stay viable. I don't know how much time an egg needs in the ground, or even within the mother, and–"
With a gentle bunt of her head against my chest, Sybil interrupted me, and I could hear the quiet sounds of laughter echoing up from my chest where Sybil still leaned against me. "What?"
"My mate, I was never gravid. I did not mate with you with the intention of laying any eggs at this time."
"You… did I do something wrong?" Though I'd never expected to feel like this as a keelish, I supposed that the fear of disappointing your lover was universal, human or otherwise.
"Ashlani," Sybil's words initially continued to carry the signs of her quiet mirth, but swiftly settled into a tender but firm tone, "fertile eggs do not result from every mating. I did not lay with you with the intention of creating life with you, though if I did lay your children, I would not lament that. But, as of yet, we have no eggs."
Of course. After the initial worry of trying to carry incubating eggs for hundreds of miles and trying to keep them viable and alive for all that time had faded, I realized that, of course. I clenched my jaw, fighting to hide the surging embarrassment and linked anger from my own foolhardy rush to conclusions. "Thank you. Please stay close enough to hear my commands." I leapt to the next subject, wishing to leave behind my embarrassment and Sybil had the good grace to follow my command.
Now, with my goal fixated once again on our inevitable escape from this area, away from any additional distractions, I channeled sonic magic to my throat and set my voice to echoing through the chamber, the assembled Alphas already listening and ready for my address.
"Our next goal… is escape from the humans' lands."
Thanks for reading!
Join the swarm! https://discord.gg/RqzsKj8hkD
[Foire POV]
Since Treel's death, all that Foire wanted was the next assignment. He'd always just wanted the next thing to do, but now… the quiet moments were the hardest, the longest, the most painful. The fight against the "humans" had been good for him, since he'd been constantly scouting to see where they could be, then going to the swarm to report on what he had found, and then, finally, blissfully, watching them be slaughtered. They'd taken his mate from him and left him bereft, so he enjoyed watching their demise. After the victory, though… the hollowness had returned. It had only been a day, but already the lethargy was settling deep into his bones, leaving him numb and unable to move.
He wanted to find something else that mattered, something else to move, scout, fight, live, or die for, but the Alpha hadn't given him any new commands. So, Foire waited. He watched. He ached. And he. felt. nothing.
The nothingness, the inability to stand, not caring that he was hungry, not caring that he was full, wanting to stand and do something or go somewhere, but even though he wanted anything else, he was left feeling wholly unable to even lift a hand, much less to stand. Foire was left as an empty corpse, bones picked over and left in the dirt, wanting to feel anything, even if it was the agony of watching Treel's blood paint the jungle floor again. Even so, he. felt. nothing.
At least when Foire received commands, when the Alpha had something new for him to do, Foire was forced to act, and having someone else take the choice from him helped, at least a little. Foire leaned against the wall of the den, idly half-listening to the Alpha's commands as he wished to be something he wasn't.
The Alpha was talking about something–the humans! Something new to take Foire's mind off of the dull present? No. Foire's hopes were cruelly dashed as the Alpha spoke of the strong human that had slaughtered dozens of the weaker keelish. Foire had watched that one, and it had been a marvel to see. It moved in a deadly, beautiful dance, and the blood of his fellow keelish had sprayed almost artistically through the air as its claws had cut through them effortlessly. Of course, the Alpha had quickly laid it low, though Foire had seen him sustain a serious blow before dispatching the butcher.
There were more of them? The thought fought to incite some feeling, any feeling at all, in Foire, be it fear, excitement, anticipation, or disbelief, but he. felt. nothing.
Dozens? No. Hundreds? More. Thousands? Definitely, but more still of those same powerful, impressive humans were coming to kill them. More of the proficient exterminators than keelish in the swarm were coming. One for every member of the swarm. They would be slaughtered to the last, their home spoiled and their friends left to rot and be fed on by the frogs. For a moment, that indignity sparked the barest hint of a reaction from him, but even before Foire could begin to be excited at the prospect of feeling, it was snuffed out, and once again, he. felt. nothing.
The Alpha spoke about how the swarm was going to leave soon, something he called an "exodus", and the whole swarm would follow his command. The other Alphas, the weak ones, all looked at him and seemed a bit surprised by the command, but none were even moderately willing to proclaim dissent with the command. After all, Ashlani had just proven himself to be infinitely stronger than their old Alpha, and his strength brooked no dissent.
The speech was beginning to wind down, as thankfully the true Alpha had no love for long speeches. Or maybe it would have been better that he stand up there and speak for days. His voice was magical, literally and otherwise, and allowing it to wash over Foire could potentially do something for him. Or nothing.
Before Foire could continue to lose himself in his self-pity, Vefir sprinted close and began to hiss into Foire's ear.
"Come with me, now!" Then, before Foire had the opportunity to turn or try to stand, Vefir was off like a fleeing bird. With an assignment received, Foire could drag himself to his feet and begin to trot after his friend. Though Vefir was different from most other keelish in that he didn't love to hunt or even to hurt, that made him one of the best friends Foire could have. He didn't want Foire to act like normal, but instead made sure to help Foire out however and wherever he could, and spent time around Foire without making any demands on him. Strange that Foire could both desire and detest receiving orders, but his mind betrayed him every day, so he didn't think too deeply about it.
"Why? What's going on?" Foire found his voice as he easily caught up with his sprinting friend.
"The… Your… Treel's… Egg… Ready… For… You."
Foire's mind lethargically brought itself to bear on the disjointed words that Vefir was trying to communicate, but after a moment they snapped together into clarity. Before he could react to his newfound understanding, though, Vefir continued to speak.
"Go… Ahead… Don't… Miss."
With a flare of his frills that Foire was sure Vefir didn't see, Foire sprinted ahead, immediately leaving Vefir behind. Foire knew that he moved preternaturally quickly, and at each turn that he had long since memorized, he willingly used the walls as a springboard to launch himself deeper and further ahead, occasionally leaping over a slow keelish who didn't hear the pounding footfalls echoing towards the den, his destination. It was all too long but much too short of a time before Foire stumbled into the den where a single, beautiful, perfect egg was rocking from within its shallow hole, and on its surface was a small tear.
Foire stepped close, hovering over the shifting mound as the little one within fought to free itself of its ivory prison. Though he desperately wished and needed to help the last remnant of his mate, Foire knew that he couldn't, that he needed to allow it to fight free, to gain this initial victory and prove itself worthy and strong enough to join the swarm at large. It wasn't long before the snout fought free and a high pitched but fierce screech of challenge sounded out from the little one. Once the initial fight with the egg was won, Foire's child's victory was guaranteed and he felt a broad smile crack his face. The hatchling pushed its head out of the egg and slumped out of the egg as it recovered from the fight, from the escape, allowing Foire to see that his child, Treel's child, was a female.
A wordless cry of hunger shook Foire from his emotional evaluation of his little girl, and he realized that he had neglected to bring her food. A failure at the first step! He began to whirl, ready to strike down the nearest keelish to feed his child, but was greeted by the sight of Ashlani, The Alpha. He had a scaled deer haunch over his shoulder, and proffered it to the panicking father. As Foire set the food down in front of his daughter and she began tearing into her first meal, Ashlani spoke, his voice sonorous and… kind.
"The circumstances of her birth… certainly are different from our own. But she is the first of my new swarm to be born, and she'll want for nothing." His words echoed to silence, and Foire didn't respond, enraptured by his daughter's voracious feeding. "Do you have a name for her?"
Foire flared his frills, and after swallowing once, and then twice, he finally spoke.
"Trai." His voice broke with emotion. With feeling. At last, Foire felt something, and everything all at once.
Thanks for reading! I feel like this is a more heavyhanded chapter, but forgive me for my lack of subtlety of describing a deep-set depression. Let me know what you thought, because it resonated with my experiences, though blatantly simplified.
Join the swarm! https://discord.gg/RqzsKj8hkD
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