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Chapter 229
🕑 Added 2024-10-04 05:13:21 +0000 UTCAs the sounds of the “tender” care the hatchlings were receiving at the hands of Trai, I finally let myself think about what new [Skills] I would focus myself on progressing in next. [Crippling Cry] was the main one that I could actively focus on experimenting with. I’d used it before on a swarm of insects, but I’d quickly learned that didn’t work. The [System’s] answer had been direct and frustratingly vague: [In order for the Skill to progress towards evolution, the creatures slain must have reached a certain evolutionary level and pose a certain level of threat to the Skill holder.]
When I’d asked for any additional information, I’d received no response. Looking through the rest of my [Skills], there weren’t any others that I could actively work towards, yet. With a sigh and continued crawling, I exited the den and went back to the swarm to resume working to smooth relations between the two swarms that were now melding. I needn’t have bothered, since the keelish, though influenced by Farahlia’s magic, instinctively submitted to the khatif.
As the suns set and the shadows lengthened, the swarm was ready. Sybil let me know once we had a total number of keelish in the swarm (436), and I only needed to make a certain that there were no deserters.
“Follow our steps! Do not hunt until you are commanded! If you kill anything before I say you can, you are no longer a member of my swarm.” Silence settled over the swarm as my words faded, but before the fear could fully settle over the new additions, Joral cheered, “Victory by fang and blood! We follow!” Others echoed his cheer as we made our way back to the waiting cadre of Moonchildren.
Mpitar put on a stoic face as we made our appearance, but couldn’t hide his nervousness when the number of keelish appearing from the surrounding trees continued to increase past one hundred. When our numbers surpassed three hundred, he finally showed effort to reign in his visible discomfort, and when all nearly five hundred of us were there in front of him, Mpitar was able to control his expression. Behind him, the rest of his cadre kept shifting their weight and only barely keeping from launching themselves into battle.
My subordinates flanking me, I casually approached Mpitar and asked, “Is there somewhere specific you would like us to begin our hunt?”
Only faintly I noted the grinding of his teeth before the terse answer, “We’re moving in that direction. Send the hunters out only after we begin today’s travel tonight.”
I smiled politely, my fangs glistening in the fading light, “Sounds good.” before turning to Took and Brutus. “Organize two full hunting packs each, led by a different khatif. Make sure there are enough of the keelish to be successful in the hunts. Hunt as many as you can in that direction. The more impressive the prey, the better.”
Took flared her frills while Brutus grinned widely and chuffed out a laugh before grabbing Silf and Joral. At Brutus’s obvious excitement, Took trumpeted out a call to arms before cracking a smirk as she began to organize her hunting packs. I could hear Silf and Joral barking commands at the newcomers and insulting their every mistake and slow reaction, and I was sure that it was going to be alright as we had this upcoming week for Sybil to use her magic to counteract and adjust the effects of Farahlia’s magic.
…
The journey to the boundary of the Wilds, a place the Moonchildren called the Sheer Pass, was longer than the originally planned ten days in total. With the addition of the hatchlings who, despite their willingness, needed accommodation to allow for their size and health, the trip ended up taking twelve days. In those days, I had yet to find a creature that could serve as a subject for [Crippling Cry]’s evolution.
Took, however, was progressing quickly with many of the newest members of the swarm, and made at least one hunting trip a day. She and Brutus were nearly worshipped by the new swarm members, and they’d taken to calling the new keelish “gummies” or “fangs”. The gummies fought to prove themselves worthy of becoming fangs, while the fangs fought to continue to show their competence. Sybil and Shemira were working constantly to attempt to purge the taint of Farahlia’s magic from the other keelish’s minds, and their greater strength paired with their teamwork was quickly bringing the general level of intelligence of the keelish to near comprehensibility. In fact, the two females were so overworked that Farahlia was finally being assigned work, and was quickly proving herself to be a diligent, intelligent worker.
Trai was thriving working the spawnlings hard, and the initially reticent and distrusting spawnlings were quickly settled into a new system. Initially, they all resisted and resented any commands or assignments, but despite Trai’s gangly body and quick laughter, she demanded respect and obedience from her subordinates. She thrived, and each day would take a short time to report her pack’s growth to me. Under her patient ministrations, the spawnlings actually were making great progress, and I could tell that it wouldn’t be long before [Nurturing Enunciation] would see some progress. As they listened to my song day by day, the hatchlings all seemed quite taken with the idea of becoming magically inclined themselves.
Etra, contrary to her usual position as Sybil’s assistant, had begun developing a relationship with a couple of the Moonchildren, she had almost become trilingual at this point, learning enough of the common tongue to communicate, and various basic phrases in the Moonchildren’s tongue, Fitendra. She laughed with them, and let me know that the main reason the Mpitar was so hostile to us was that one of his old friends was killed in our fight for fahvalo status. Apparently, a couple of the other Moonchildren were upset with him about this, since he was openly disregarding the ancient ways, but a majority of this cadre was more progressively minded than most, so these traditionally minded individuals kept quiet about their insubordinate thoughts.
At the knowledge of this, I approached Mpitar just a day out of the Sheer Pass.
“Do you still want that fight?”
He didn’t even look at me as he responded. “I never did. There is nothing to gain: If I win, everything remains the same, except you may lose influence, and you seem to be the best option for your… people’s” the word seemed to cost him something, “leader. If I lose, I lose face and influence. There is no benefit for me.”
“A surprisingly intelligent and premeditated answer.” I trailed off for a couple of steps, but just as he began to lengthen his stride and attempt to gain some space on me, I called out, “Do you acknowledge me as fahvalo?”
Mpitar stopped in his tracks, literally bristling but still not looking at me. “You do not want the answer to that question.”
I smiled. “I think I do. Do you consider the word of Bloodpriestess Ana to be correct? Should I be acknowledged to be fahvalo to you, the Moonchildren?”
As he turned, slowly, I wondered if maybe I’d pushed him too far. There was a glint of the desire for violence in the Mpitar’s too-large eyes as he spoke, “Bloodpriestess Ana considers you to be fahvalo, embodying the concept of desperation. Right now, you seem to be embodying the concept of pride, one you need to abandon in desperation. Do you still want the answer to your question?”
My smirk extended. “I am desperate for validation, desperate to know that others in the Moonchildren agree with the one who has vouched for me. Am I wrong to embody another aspect of the same concept?”
His reply was an angry hissed whisper. “I acknowledge you as fahvalo.” A barking, coughing call sounded, and his kamory gathered around him before all them ascended into the trees and stayed arboreal for the next day.
Sybil’s voice came from behind me, “I fail to see why that was necessary.”
“Strictly speaking… it wasn’t. I just couldn’t stand his attitude.”
A slow nod. “Perhaps a wise choice. Perhaps not. Only time will tell.”
I grudgingly nodded. “One more day, they say. I don’t think this will matter longer than that.”
“Perhaps.”
A day later, the forests thinned out around us, and in the distance I could see two parallel mountain ranges. Above me came Mpitar’s voice.
“We have escorted you to the edge of our lands. If we find you here without welcome again, there will almost certainly be consequences.” And without another word, the faint sound of the cadre’s retreat was all that we heard or saw of the presence of the Moonchildren.
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Maxum
The silent observer Speaks
