No_Creative_Name
patreon
AR Chapter 335
🕑 Added 2025-03-01 06:58:26 +0000 UTCRepubbed to fix order in visibility. My bad, again.
[Foire POV]
“I’ve investigated the ant tracks as you requested, and, unfortunately, it’s about as we expected. Though we’ve managed to largely calm those immediately under the city, the rest grow more and more agitated the more they see us, especially the further we range from Nievtra. It would seem that these mountains are filled with the creatures, and wherever something goes, they will eventually encounter the ants. The more of the ants that are killed, the more ants appear in the area.”
As he gave his report, Foire wished the Alpha was here. Ashlani’s decisiveness was nearly impossible to find in any other keelish, and this was a time for decisive action. Sybil’s careful planning was great sometimes, but these ants needed to be dealt with, and not soon, but now. Regardless of what he wanted, though, Foire realized that he wasn’t in charge. He would support Ashlani as the Alpha, ruler of their nation, and he’d appointed Sybil to lead in his stead while he collected other keelish into the fold. Though Foire had no idea why that, too, was necessary, he didn’t question it, he merely followed Sybil’s instructions.
“If every attempt to cull their numbers results in a swelling of their numbers, we will need to take action in a different manner. In terms of individuals who are capable of dispatching large swathes of our enemies out at once, we are missing three individuals. With Ashlani’s absence, holding them off indefinitely will be impossible. However, if there is a way to calm tensions, at least for now, then that would be ideal. Thank you, Foire. I will speak with Joral to determine when his soonest availability is to calm the beasts for now. In a related question, Foire, have you ever seen the ants show any sort of malice? Or has it seemed to be more of an unintelligent mass pressing forward unceasingly?”
“I can’t say.” Foire answered. “There’s too many of them and I’m unable to read their body language or faces. They’re extremely aggressive, but haven’t shown any special grudge or violence towards specific individuals so maybe they lack any particular hatred? My place is only to give objective facts, though, so forgive me for my brief speculation.”
“That is nothing to apologize for, Scoutmaster Foire.” Sybil clacked her teeth for emphasis. “I ask that you and your subordinates maintain the utmost caution, as it may be a day before the Kou’Tal’s domestication or calming efforts begin in earnest.”
“Very well, Beta.” Foire flared his frills in assent. “Is there anything else that you need me to do?”
“No, not at this time. I would appreciate your return in the morning so that I might apprise you of the general timeline we have. That would only be in the case that one of my assistants does not bring that information before you are due to leave on a scouting expedition, of course.”
“Of course.” Foire flared his frills again and turned on his heel to leave. As he did so, he listened to Sybil’s conversation with Ytte.
“I expect the progress on rebuilding efforts has been consistent? If so, there is a new project that I have for you, and I suspect it will be of special interest to you…”
He could continue to listen long after he’d walked away and out of the “castle”, but Foire didn’t care to stretch his abilities to eavesdrop. Instead, he took in the building that Sybil had established as the central location for her rule. Though he disagreed with her particularly cautious nature when approaching problems, Foire deeply appreciated Sybil’s greatest strength–her organizational ability. She’d claimed a building near the center of the city, but closer to the entrances where the Sik’Tal, Kou’Tal, and Hak’Tal most frequently moved. The building, though only repaired to the level of serving as a mediocre approximation of shelter, constantly had keelish streaming in and out.
At each door or location where the walls had crumbled, the rest of Brutus’s Alqat stood, guarding these key members of the Empire. Foire struggled to appreciate the necessity of the sentiment, though, as there were no creatures in the vicinity that could pose a threat to Sybil herself, much less Shemira, as she was usually nearby. Though Sybil stayed off the front lines, insisting that she was unsuited to physical combat, Foire kept his eyes and ears open. He knew that she’d scheduled time to train every day, though her schedule was far busier than every other keelish’s.
With a shake of his head, Foire stopped thinking about his friend’s dedication, instead focusing on what he could do now. He’d returned from his assigned scouting mission, but it’d been far from enough. He itched to go on a true expedition, but that would wait at least until the Alpha returned. Trai, imp that she was, was bouncing from one thing to the next and he didn’t want to be overbearing. Silf was gone as well, and though Foire considered many members of the Empire to be friends, most enjoyed the frantic bustle of being within the bounds of the swarm. Silf was the only one that was like Foire, that enjoyed just being alone.
Other than Treel, of course.
So long had passed, and, compared to the life spread out before him, they’d had so little time together. Broodmates, friends, and fellow followers of the whirling madness that made Ashlani. Lovers, mates, and parents, though Treel and Trai had never met. Just a few short months, most of which as a nearly mindless keelish, remained and existed of their lives together. Looking back, they were mere animals then, so far from the people that Ashlani had led them to become. Treel was barely a khatif, and then murdered by those humans.
The wounds, though not nearly so fresh, remained raw. There was so much he’d been through, things that Treel never would have dreamed of. Where could she be now, he wondered? As soon as he thought of it, Foire knew what he would do now. Though he didn’t know where to find Shraal, nobody and nothing could evade his search for long. He didn’t even need to ask around, the grayscale had a distinct scent that followed him, though it wasn’t actually the old male that originated the smell. No, it was something more… divine.
His trail led Foire to the pens that the Kha’Tal built to retain the herds. The massive pastures encircled with six-foot walls with pits on both sides were empty, all the herds having been taken to graze somewhere else. Inside the walls stood Shraal with several of the youngest keelish, those who hadn’t yet decided what they wanted to become. Foire couldn’t say how much of that was choice and how much was what they were born as, but Shraal guided each with a firm but open hand.
“Everywhere we look, there are tasks that need to be completed by the Keel. Beneath them, the khatif are to guide each step, and the keelish follow the khatif. There are places for you, and you must choose. Now, go, and be productive, else you remain mere keelish without the possibility to evolve to be like the Zaaktif.”
The little assembly of children rushed off, bustling and chatting about whatever occurred to them and Shraal looked up at Foire.
“What can I do for you, my fellow devotee?”
Foire breathed deep before asking, “What happens when we die?”
