NOVEL NEXT Chapter 194
As the swarm passed through the hills that grew taller and rockier by the day and the gray smudge that I’d seen across the horizon became clearer and clearer to me, I finally realized that what I was seeing was something I had only heard about as a boy–mountains. I’d always thought that “mountains” wouldn’t be anything worth seeing, that I didn’t mind never seeing any, since the Martanimis Jungle I lived in and loved was mostly flat. But the trees were tall and beautiful, the rivers and animals and rains and clearings were all amazing. I loved my home, so why would I ever care about some “mountain” I’d never seen before?
Looking out on the mountains spread before my eyes, I laughed at my pride. I’d scoffed and mocked at the apparent majesty of giant rocks, how could they compare to the beauty of the jungles? Mountains didn’t compare to jungles. The gray towers that pierced the heavens before me inspired every one of us keelish to awe. The peaks were dusted with white, maybe another type of stone? A part of me wondered if I should help Ytte to ascend to the top to see these strange pure white stones. Could the stone that decorated the tops of mountains be something we could use as a people?
Those thoughts and more began to plague my mind, but beyond my interest in the mountains and the stones that made their tops, I felt a strange… enjoyment of the mountains.
A keelish could easily thrive in the jungles. They fed us and kept us relatively safe while still challenging us as a people to continue growing and striving for more. I loved the jungle, and I had always been in and lived in the Martanimis, even though I’d been a part of a generally nomadic tribe as a human, we’d never left the jungle. The mountains were home. Home in a way that I had never felt before. My claws sunk into the firm ground to give me better, firmer steps. My scales heated in the suns’ light and made me comfortable. The soil here had more frequent sandy patches than the jungle did, and whenever we found a sand bath, it was full of bathing keelish until the sands were polluted from their natural tan to a dark, nearly black brown. The air was drier, and the subtle smell of wet keelish faded to the point that I had nearly forgotten the pervasive scent.
I wanted to make these mountains home, and I wasn’t the only one. Nearly every single keelish in the swarm settled into little burrows they made the day we arrived at the feet of the mountain where they cuddled and laughed and mated and lived with whoever they pleased. Every one of my people who saw me as I walked around and investigated the lands looked at me with begging looks, hoping that the journey was at an end. How long had we fled? Weeks for sure, maybe even to the level of months, now? Surely we were beyond the reach of the Veratocracy now. They wouldn’t chase us through jungles and forests and plains and mountains, so could we begin to reestablish Nievtra here?
There was the little part of me that said that I should continue looking, continue moving, continue fleeing, but to settle here would be better for my people! We could resume laying eggs, and raising young! We could continue to learn to evolve to khatif!
That last thought brought me up short. I knew that khatif was not the final destination for our evolution, and I had learned what I needed to do and where I needed to go to be able to evolve to a Keel. Being khatif was but the first true step to becoming Keel, and I simply couldn't protect my people as a mere khatif swarm Alpha. There were too many dangers plaguing this world for me to even begin to dare to disregard as something I could handle as I was. High Speakers by the dozen could come directly to our home if we built it here, and I couldn’t guarantee that the nearly 1000 strong members of the swarm could even dispatch one High Speaker, much less an entire complement of the mages.
In my heart, I knew that the Veratocracy was filled with trained soldiers, something I’d never experienced before. Warfare hadn’t existed among the disparate tribes of people hundreds of years ago, with our people’s primary conflicts being able to be resolved with words and minimal violence. The true threats came from the world and the jungle, not the people. Now, though… Nievtala was a goddess of conquest, of victory, of absolute devotion. The humans of the Veratocracy saw me and my people as a threat to be exterminated. We would need to go to war to protect ourselves, and to become more than we already were.
I’d been told that to the east were the ruins of Nievtra, a city whose inhabitants had worshipped Nievtala. Maybe I could find the ruins of that city here in these mountains? Even without Nievtala or the Administrator telling me as much, I knew it was a vain hope, but still I hoped as I led my people through the wonderful mountains to try to find Nievtra. As we slowly traveled through the mountains, Joral somehow continued to find creatures to attempt to bring under his control.
What had only been a group of fewer than ten wolfstags before had grown to two dozen wolfstags, then an additional small herd of surefooted mountain goats joined them, then some weird goat-like things that were fuzzier and, frankly, much more dull-witted. How Joral had managed to keep the weak prey animals alive while surrounded by hundreds of creatures that wanted to eat them escaped me. After all, the beasts should have been devoured immediately, but instead, they walked without much care or worry and simply grazed on the grasses that filled the mountain range. When I’d asked Sybil how much she’d had to do to keep the beasts under control, her response had taken me by surprise:
“I have not done much for these new creatures. I do not care for them and their piteous mewling and simpering, so I have only given my assistance once. Somehow, Joral and his brood have managed to learn how to subjugate and control the weak-minded creatures without my assistance, and I do not mind it. I prefer the company of my wolves.”
I hadn’t heard or seen Joral using any magic, but I also hadn’t asked, nor did I suspect that he would attempt to use it on me without any warning. When I’d gone to ask Shemira if she’d given any assistance, her singleminded focus on something unexpected had answered me better than an asked question would have.
Shemira stood humming to herself as she let air whistle between her fangs. Though unskilled and experimental, the natural harmonization of her sounds briefly drew me into a trance. The music she made had nearly every keelish within earshot listening carefully, and as she watched me, Shemira drew her song to a crescendo before letting the final notes of her wordless song faintly echo off the surrounding stone walls.
“How can I help you, Ashlani?” Shemira’s voice was relaxed, confident, and less overtly teasing or sexual than I’d heard it in quite a long time.
“I just wanted to ask about if you’d helped Joral with his creatures. Don’t think you’d have, but there’s a chance your magic could help.”
Shemira was clacking her fangs together in denial, but before she could speak, Rulac ran towards me, his chest heaving. Before I could ask anything, Rulac spoke.
“We’ve found something,” Rulac interrupted, “I think it might be what you’ve been looking for.”
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