Chapter 169
[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.
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