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Chapter 137
🕑 Added 2024-05-17 03:28:48 +0000 UTCIt was fortunate that there was a Windspeaker prudent enough to send a message to us after they initially found keelishsign. Though they were sure of their own competence and mentioned that they had a True Earthspeaker in the village, I long had prepared a squad to march at the earliest needful moment. My only regret with regards to how I acted is that I did not ignore the messenger’s insistence of the little village’s own strength. I should have sent my squad at the first mention of keelishsign, and even more so should I have sent Lierthan and his cohort once I heard word of magical keelish being spotted.
Regardless of my regrets or lack thereof, I have no excuse, and if it is required for me to step down from my position, I shall do so without complaint the same day that I receive my dismissal.
-Report from High Colonel Mualtir di’Thnufir to the Synod after the return of Lierthan’s cohort.
The next few days passed without incident. The hatchlings were beginning to perform their own hunts, though theirs were much different from my own. At least a few of my pack made sure to be near the hatchlings whenever they left the den, and they gave pointers and advice to ensure that the youngest members of the swarm were learning how to hunt, sneak, and generally be more effective than they would have been initially. Additionally, though the pygmy deer weighed more than a Toothy Bullfrog did, they were more cowardly and flighty by nature, so while the hatchlings suffered from fewer successful hunts than we had, so too did they suffer fewer injuries.
I didn’t personally accompany any of the hatchling hunts, but I did make sure to return to their den at the end of every day (or beginning, I supposed would be more correct). Then, since the little children had been taught that I was in charge from the very beginning of their lives, I could give specific and influential advice to every one of them. The greatest standout among their number was, surprisingly, a male that had no magical inclination at all, even though a couple others had the possibility of stepping in that direction eventually.
Joral, as was the name he’d come up with, was a naturally born Alpha, for lack of a better way of saying it. He’d been the first of the hatchlings to establish a pack when Sybil had given the command to do so, and shortly thereafter, he had become the de facto Brood Alpha. I wasn’t sure what it was about him that had so quickly drawn in the other four Alphas in the brood, but they had swiftly designated him their superior and there were no arguments or struggles for power after the five Alphas were selected by Sybil and the others, or after Joral had become the Brood Alpha.
There were no hatchlings as freakishly predisposed towards magic as Sybil had been, and I fought to keep myself from being frustrated by that. Since we were basically raising the brood to be my loyal troops, I’d hoped for a contingent of magical followers to blast away any problems that dared to raise their heads, but it wasn’t to be. Frankly speaking, this brood was naturally less impressive than my own had been.
I had always known that my own brood was exceptional, but I’d thought it had simply been by a small amount, at least compared to what other broods would be within this exceptional swarm. Instead, what I learned was that we were so much more impressive, even than these spawned by the powerful members of this swarm, that I couldn’t begin to compare our starting line with theirs. On the bright side, the hatchlings were progressing slowly enough that they were now able to begin to integrate risk-free hunts with the wolfstag pups that were quickly entering adolescence.
Watching the cute and clumsy wolfstags trying hunt with the struggling keelish was initially funny, and I’d made sure to be present for their initial efforts. Arwa had accompanied her babies and the rest of the brood as they had hunted, and she worked to help her little ones learn how to hunt as best as she could, but they simply were too uncoordinated. Even so, they made progress towards successful hunting, and their efforts to work with the hatchling keelish were enjoyable to watch.
Marata POV
It had been days since the disappearance of Farrah’s squad. Marata knew that they had all been killed, but she and all her scouts had yet to find any evidence of where their friends and family had been murdered. Among all her other worries, Marata wondered how Farrah had been bested by mere keelish, especially with Gryl. Her terrorbird was one of the most impressive Soul Companions she’d ever seen on a child like her. Powerful, obedient, and well-kept, Gryl had been an ideal Soulspeaker’s companion, especially since she’d become Farrah’s companion before the popularization of that barbaric “Soulbinding'' became the norm out here in the wilderness.
Things like the change from Soul Companions to Soulbinding were what had driven Marata to leave Viertaal in the first place. The capital had always been changing, but Marata was sure that its people had continued to stray ever further from what the Gran Verat expected them to be. Her time as a constable had cemented her decaying faith in her hometown’s populace, and at last, she’d decided to leave her home.
Marata looked over to Korali, who was preparing their evening meal. He’d never been on a campaign like this, but he was a practiced hunter, and as he felt her gaze, without looking up, crooked a smile and sent a whisper of a Windcall to tickle her nose. He often downplayed his own Speaking abilities compared to hers, but that he could exhibit such delicate control over so little, and that without having to Speak out loud, was more than proof of his strength.
“Carin,” Korali began to speak, but was interrupted by a voice from outside the tent.
“Master Marata! We think we’ve found the keelish’s den!”
Marata and her husband both shot to their feet as the scout, Salman, rushed into the tent without knocking on the center spar. His beralt had been pulled back from his sweat-stained face, and his eyes flicked wildly around the tent until his eyes shot past Korali and onto her. Marata stood at attention, exuding all the confidence she felt, as she waited for Salman to calm himself enough to explain what he had come barging in for. It took longer than she would like, but he, like Korali, had no campaign experience of any kind, only having gone on small hunts with some of his friends before. Remembering that, Marata was impressed enough with Salman’s ability to gather himself and salute her.
“Speak, Salman.”
“Yes! Um. We found, um, or I guess, Ahkte found a den. We aren’t sure how many there are there, but, um, there seem to be a lot of tracks there? And they’re big, I guess. So, he came back a bit and sent a windword ahead to tell us where we could run into him and then find the den, but he said that we need to be careful, because the keelish are dangerous, you know? I haven’t ever hunted them before, so I’m really not sure what I should–”
“Salman.” Marata had long learned how to make her voice crack like a whip, and she did so here. Salman went silent.
“Lead us. Quietly.”
Salman nodded, and turned to exit, but was stopped by Marata’s voice again. “Your mask and hood, Salman.” After an embarrassed sound, Salman had resettled the beralt around his face and then began once again to lead them out of the tent.
The journey to the den was quick and easy, and that only because Ahkte had left obvious tracks in the earth for Marata to follow. Or, maybe they were just so simple for her to track because of her attainment in Earthspeaking. She tried to convince herself of as much as she led Salman and Korali to follow Ahkte, and after catching up to him, then the keelish’s tracks. Even though Ahkte tried to lead her to the den, once she got close to him, she’d seen the keelish’s tracks, though they’d tried to hide them.
Once she got to the den, though, Marata realized something that she was embarrassed to have taken so long to understand. This was the den that Varali had guided them to initially, the one where the wolfstags had been slaughtered. Even so, there was value to be found in the area, and Marata began to prepare to scout out the surroundings.
Comments
Pykimon
Nag, you just can't appreciate their beauty
Tsula
Can't even blame humans for their historic and current suppression of the Keelish.. given what we know of the Keel. They are hard to root for.
