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Chapter 237
🕑 Added 2024-10-16 05:27:27 +0000 UTCThough curious, I indulged in the meal with my swarm before allowing myself the opportunity to fall into the details of my [Status]. Instead, I watched the swarm all around me as they gloried in survival and victory. Took, though sluggish and slow, ate until her belly was distended and she couldn’t keep herself conscious any longer. The miracle survivor sleeping, most of the swarm took the opportunity as the ending of the feast and went to rest themselves. With new goat pelts, I settled down for the night on my new bedding. The agony of my hand’s injuries had faded through the evening as Etra and Vefir passed by every quarter hour or so to pump me full of more healing. I’d tried to deny them, but Vefir had shut down my refusal, saying “You need it more than she does now. Her body is sturdier than yours, and though her wounds were more life threatening, they were much simpler than burning the feeling out of your fingers, boiling your blood, and reducing your bones to charcoal. Don’t do anything with the hand until I tell you to.”
His expression had brooked no disagreement, and I simply flared my frills in assent. Mollified, he’d continued his ministrations until I’d waved him and Etra off so I could finally sleep and take the opportunity to look over my [Status]. The first and obvious point was that my [Quest] to “hunt, kill, and devour 5 new species” had been completed and again refreshed to show the same [Quest], but the second, more interesting point laid in my [Skill’s] “advancement”. I quickly opened it up and began my research.
[Skill: Pain Tolerance. Allows for the Skill user to ignore pain to certain levels. NOTE: The ability to ignore the feeling of agony does not allow for the Skill user to ignore the repercussions of the damages sustained causing said pain.]
But the [Skill’s] description was the same as before, the name hadn’t changed, and, apparently, nothing else had either?
[The Administrator answers: Many Skills cannot evolve but can progress. For example, your Tremorsense won’t evolve, but it can advance, or, under extraordinary circumstances, merge with another —----]
The Administrator stopped communicating with me, but only for a moment before returning.
[The Administrator sighs: I get it. These other fogeys don’t want me to talk too much. That’s why I’ve been so low contact, but DULVROC the INSUFFERABLE has PLANS—---]
Again, the Administrator’s communications were cut off, but this time, it was only after a full minute or so that the more impersonal words of the [System] returned.
[Skills are capable of advancement. The Skill Pain Tolerance has advanced.]
Though I tried to bait out more replies and information afterwards, there was nothing more that the [System] nor the Administrator provided. Nievtala did, however, briefly descend over me.
I am glad your friend survived.
Nothing else followed as the Goddess withdrew her presence, but for a sense of genuine happiness for me. For a moment, I remembered my evolution after Oncli’s death, and the Administrator’s callousness. Nievtala’s understanding and compassion brought a smile to my face, and allowed myself to relax into the bedding to sleep.
I rolled over and found myself looking at Sybil. She’d been near sleep, her belly nearly as distended from gorging on Nanuk as Took’s, though I supposed that was to be expected, given the Nanuk was a surprisingly tasty meat. Sybil cocked her head, curious at my pensive stare. I shrugged and continued looking at her, taking in the flare of the frills around her face, the dull sheen of her scales in the moonlight, the dark pools that her eyes became in the dark. She smelled pleasant, an earthy and somehow attractive odor, like a field just after rain, and her mouth perked in a coy little smile that couldn’t quite be hidden.
“Really? Nothing to say after looking at me like this for so long?” Sybil had mellowed through the last months, but her biting tongue remained intact, even if it wasn’t quite so barbed now.
“I… didn’t have anything to say. Rolled over, saw you, wanted to keep looking… Here we are.”
“I’m just another member of the swarm. Nothing to look at.”
I sighed. “Do we want to get into this again? I don’t see you that way, even if you do. You appeal to me.”
“And that is why it took you days to understand my sexual advances upon you. Because of my overwhelming appeal and desirability.” Her smirk died a little as her words turned to self-pity.
“And you decided to mate with me after you realized exactly how dense I am, so is there really any room for you to complain?”
A theatrical sigh. “Perhaps not.” A more genuine sigh. “Speaking of sex, I must admit that I cannot bring myself to feel anything more or less than guarded and unhappy towards that fork-tongued menace.”
“Farahlia…” I said, immediately understanding who she was talking about. “Difficult it may be to believe me, but I’m fairly certain that she means no harm to me, the swarm, or you.”
“And that is the most frustrating part of it! If she were ill-intentioned in any way, I would immediately begin to stamp her back down! But… she instead is genuine in her desire for the swarm to grow, even if in a way that you and I don’t necessarily want ourselves.”
“So you hesitate to crush her.”
“Yes.” The answer was simple, matter-of-fact, and emotionless. It was nothing more than a statement of fact: if there was any member of the swarm that had intentions of harming the collective’s interest and they were discovered, they would be snuffed out.
“On that note… How’s your new intelligence force coming along?
“I am deeply feeling Cree’s loss. She was a great supporter, and her presence was calming, steady, and her reach surprisingly broad. She is missed, and as of yet, I have yet to find one whose abilities would allow them to fill her spot.”
“And why not Etra? She is at least as intelligent and competent.”
“She lacks Octavi’s… subtlety. Beyond that, her priorities have shifted. Etra has become a healer, a follower of Vefir. It is good that she has done so, since we will always need more healers.”
“Have you considered the little female? What was her name?”
“Hala. She’s quick, eager.” Sybil’s tail flicked in irritation. “However, her wit is a blade she knows not how to sheathe. She is too passionate, too excited, too quick to enter a conversation. Isnanna wants to know everything and anything of importance, and cannot wait for the revelation to be made to her, instead leaving her inquisitiveness to guide her every step. No, she is a asset, but not a spymaster.”
I shrugged. “I trust your judgment implicitly.”
“As well you should.” Sybil’s tail casually tapped at my leg, and we both settled comfortably together, ready to sleep.
The dreams didn’t wait to bombard me.
I dreamed of a vast expanse of warring keelish. The scenery was constantly shifting, from burning plains to rainy forests, to blood-slicked streets to Nanuk infested mountains. In each location, the enemies shifted from Moonchildren to Sunkindred to Veushten to hulking armored armies to other keelish and yet other creatures unknown to me. The consistency throughout each battle, however, was that the keelish were slain in droves, our bodies piling into mounds of corpses, our blood slicking the ground and turning the earth into a mushy, scarlet mess. My companions stacked the keelish corpses into defensive mounds, striking out at the assaulting forces from behind the bloody battlements, but before long their own twitching bodies joined the stacks.
Slowly I became aware of the familiar bodies decorating the gory fortress. Took’s face was peeled back to the skull alongside one half. Foire’s arms were severed below the elbow, his neck twisted unnaturally and between his legs lay the brutalized corpse of his daughter. Brutus’s legs were snapped outward, the bones exposed to the air. Ytte’s throat was torn and mangled, her face twisted in horror. Sybil’s chest had been ripped open, her ribs exposed and viscera open to the air. As I looked, sickened, Joral buried his face in her guts, and pulled his head out just enough for me to see him begin to swallow the unborn eggs from inside of my mate.
I wanted to scream, defend, attack, anything, but I stood, frozen as the creature taking the twisted form of my friend looked at me. Its face had become hollow, the eyes vacuous black holes, the features flattened and made caricatures of the original ones. The mouth swallowed the eggs, the legacy of my mate and then turned to me. The teeth were long, narrow things, made only to inflict pain, unable to rip and tear, only to maim and damage. The mouth hung open and a hissing, threatening voice began to slither its way up my spine to resound in my head as its tongue split and began to weave between the uncomfortably spaced teeth.
“Beware the forked tongue. The incredulous are the eternal foe of the progressives.”
We all have forked tongues! You mean the duplicitous?
“Beware the primordial adversary. The prey return to the ancient hunting grounds.”
Who is that?
“Beware the gods. They are inconstant and have been since their inception.”
With a gasp and a start, I woke.
