She was surprised to find that she was laying on top of the other female, curled around her own tail. She was not surprised that she was groggier than she would have liked, however.
The Initiate found that the issue with sleeping in a pile of broodmembers, rather than on top of the Provider, was not just sensing their own restlessness. She had expected that. No, it was also being this figurative yolk for the lot of them.
It wasn’t just her, some of the others were also yolks that night, but it felt like it had happened more to the Initiate. And the others that were yolks had also at one point or another made her into one. She didn’t enjoy the social connotations.
Not Fodder! Her Instinct grumbled. Not low caste!
First it had been Keshka, which was… tolerable… at least she didn’t feel unsafe with that female. But then it had been Zegoth, which was concerning to say the least. Not to mention mildly painful when he rolled over on top of her, making her squeak in pain as he squashed her. Even Shashk had her at one point, which was nothing less than terrifying.
The Ambassador had been hissing and snarling in her sleep, too quiet for anyone but Vivex to hear. She muttered about “stagnation”, “need of change”, and “Felinym”, which sounded like a different language to the Initiate and was said with strange prefixes.
Ium, skhi, and rehz, which were respectively pleasant-pride, travel-here, and, oddly, cold. A dire prefix that last one, not quite meaning death, but close. And the whole while, teeth as long as her fingers and claws gleamed in the night next to the Initiate’s face.
That was the only one she wriggled to get out of, not caring if it was a faux pas or not.
All in all, she disliked the group nesting. But it was warm, and was what mattered, she supposed.
Thu-thum.
Her head lifted and she looked to the south.
Thu-thum.
She listened closer, needing to make sure. Others in the group were looking too now. Keshka shifted under her, her eyes open.
Thu-thum.
The Provider returns! She rolled off of the other female and scrambled off into the trees, ignoring the grouchy snarls of the remaining traveling party. Vivex was in the canopy in mere moments and leaping through the air to land on his broad shoulder only an instant after that.
Sanguine eyes turned to inspect her. His tongue slid out, as did hers. Neonate and Provider inspecting the other’s scent in silence.
He blinked, smelling the others on her most likely. And he…
Apex female… Despite the divide of species, Vivex could tell what that musk was. It was strong, but not harsh, physical information carried on the pheromones that lingered in Tok’s thick scales.
A mighty female.
Vivex inspected him further, seeing fresh wounds caked with herb, nothing overly concerning, but he had needed to fight another male for her it seemed.
“Provider?” She flickered through several colors, enjoying the quiet with him too much to speak more than that.
He grunted, jerking his head up momentarily to display the bright red spot at his throat.
She grunted back. It was good that he had returned.
The group traveled, and the Initiate worked as hard as she could to learn.
Vivex did well with the physical aspects of training, not just maintaining pace with her tutors, but outstripping them. Zegoth still got hits in, but nowhere near the amount he had when they had first started.
And she found vantages to take shots that impressed Keshka immensely. Taking advantage that she was nimbler than any of her tutors.
In both cases Shashk made her keep up a constant flow of conversation, shifting to discussions strictly about the smoothskin capital of Salkov.
“And so it was forty years ago that the city was reshaped by the magics of the parasite emperor. What happened next?” She hissed, tail popping.
Vivex ducked under a swing from Zegoth, deflecting a second. “So, then… he…” She snarled and kicked, missing but forcing her Tutor back so she could scramble away to finish her answer. “The emperor then took control of the Third Genera?”
Zegoth was right behind her, and she leapt to a vine, grabbing it with her feet and swinging to a different level of the canopy.
“Yes, my Pupil. It led to the exile of many of their people, dividing them into two broods. That made it easier for the mage to consolidate more power. Set them against each other. A Fodder king sits on the Dvundae throne now, content with being fattened like a pig for slaughter.”
Zegoth closed in, snarling, and swung his club.
There wasn’t time to dodge!
Gritting her teeth she met his one club with both of hers.
Crack!
She blocked it, but she was slammed back against the trunk of a tree. She gasped in pain, stunned by it, a knot having rammed right into the small of her back where her tail was sensitive.
“Again, little-Initiate.” Zegoth snarled. “Prove like-not the scaleless! Discontent with laziness.”
She glanced at Shashk. The Ambassador’s tail popped lazily, her frill fluttering with maroon implications, agreeing with Vivex’s silent opinion. Zegoth was terrible with the smoothskin language.
But the exchange had highlighted one of the key places that she struggled. Pure strength. Even with all the weight training, the sparring, the physical activity in general, she was still limited in that regard by her size.
The other was that Vivex still struggled with anything to do with the dehk-zuir. Even with the extra instruction from her Teacher and Tutors. That was what irked the little warrior most.
At least when it came to strength, she could figure out a different method. A stout branch for leverage, taking a path that her heavier Tutor’s couldn’t, or relying on her greater speed to outpace them.
The dehk-zuir though… She felt like she was spending all the time she could to master the language. Hours and hours of it. But it was clear by the second week of the second cycle that things were taking far too long. An implacable deadline was marching forward towards her, and no amount of effort seemed to change the sluggish pace of her progress.
It wouldn’t matter if I was going to be alone. Solitary. But it seemed like the way the Greenscales were utilized by the brood was often as a group, at least until an individual proved themself. And that meant that there was a need for her to know and understand the language of tails if she was to stay in the Belly at all.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Thrive! Her Instinct snarled, that morning yellow hue having long since turned maroon.
Vivex couldn’t help but feel like it was something about the method of the lessons. She could memorize some phrasings easily enough, but it was hard to move her tail like Shashk’s, and it was like there was a disconnect there that she couldn’t find a bridge for. Not just a physical issue, which she was certain was the case, but also something else.
Pain alone does not explain my inability. She had needed to overcome pain to survive before. She knew she could. So what was the issue?
Shashk continued to get missives, talking about how ‘Subject I’ was hunting down ‘specific prey’. And how the ‘shipments’ were still successful. She made Vivex read them as part of her training, but she was struggling to see the point.
They all said similar things. ‘The shipments are going well’, ‘Subject I has killed another target’, ‘Pack J investigating’, ‘Pack D indicates that enemy activity near palace is increasing through contacts with Pack S’.
One night after another such missive, next to the fire, Shashk asked “What is the purpose of change, my student?” She chewed on a single leaf of the herb, an occasional indulgence of hers. Never more than one, and never during the day when she was more actively teaching.
Vivex was surprised that her Teacher had asked it in the Truetongue, let alone ask such a simple question.
Is this a trap? She couldn’t tell, so she answered truthfully, “Change is the way of all things. It is what the broods must do to prepare for the Kzik’hassezm, the time of battle with the cursed Falsescaled.”
“And you believe in such a time?” Shashk slid another two leaves in her mouth. The Redscale picked up the portrait of the orc female, looking at it. Vivex hadn’t known she had brought it along.
There is writing there! But she couldn’t see clearly.
When placed down near fire. Her Instinct hissed.
“Well?” Shashk asked again, looking at her with those inscrutable turquoise eyes.
Vivex paused, even more worried that it was a trap.
“My Provider taught it to me. He would not do so if it was a frivolous thing.”
Shashk hissed, then placed the portrait face down on a stone, the flickering flames of the fire casting odd menacing shadows across her Teacher’s face. Vivex took a chance and glanced at the back of it.
“And if there was something keeping change from occurring?”
“Then it would have to be culled, my Teacher.” Vivex said, still trying to read the words, but they were worn down to the point of almost total illegibility.
A chanc- -- nec----ry.
~F----ym
Shashk hissed thoughtfully at that before dismissing her for the night, looking again at the missive. Frill flapping with annoyance. “Sprints, ten more, then bed, Pupil.” She snarled, her tail snapping.
Eventually, the retinue, including Zegoth and Keshka, all left them to move on ahead.
When Vivex asked why, Zegoth grumbled stalking off. Vivex turned to her archery Tutor.
“To report on your progress. The Ambassador has called for the judgement of the Conclave on the matter of your caste.” Keshka hissed.
She also left before Vivex could ask anything more.
Conclave? Another aspect of my people that nobody takes the time to explain.
Her Instinct growled in agreement. There was something lingering there, in her hindbrain, but she could tell that it was not going to become clear until she saw the Conclave for herself.
Vivex supposed that she didn’t mind, and Zegoth leaving was actually preferable. Though she worried that she had lost an advocate in Keshka.
If I could just understand why I can’t learn the dehk-zuir.
Compete! Her Instinct gnashed, and her forebrain gnashed back. She was trying.
The landscape changed, shifting from swamp to true jungle. The underbrush and canopy becoming thicker and more vibrant in hues and smells. Rivers and bayous becoming huge bow-lakes and deep plunge-caves.
She started to see different homes, seeing her first Bluescale when they were only a day or two out from Szez’tek-Shrahaam, using a goad to herd a gaggle of Fodder out into the undergrowth. Bluescales were of a size with the Redscales, but with a vertical frill that ran along their head and spine.
They also encountered patrolling Blackscales, and to her shock they had dark blue eyes. It was so surprising that Shashk hit her again to get her to focus on the book she had been reading aloud.
Tok met with each group, discussing something away from her.
So I can’t hear him. She growled.
Shashk’s tail popped.
So you can focus! Her Instinct snarled, though even that part of her brain sounded unconvinced.
Growling she returned to reading anyway.
Vivex could work out most words now in the smoothskin alphabet, though they were strangely shaped and inelegant. She was sure that it was because of that that she still had to sound things out. Dragging a claw along the page gently to keep her place.
She could see something off in the distance, even at night. A sort of layered structure holding dominion over several smaller ones.
“That is the temple.” Tok said, when she asked him, looking at her as she climbed back onto his shoulder.
She felt like there had been a divide between them for some time now, and she disliked the idea of there being one.
Isn’t.
Yes, there is.
Idiot.
She knew there was, and it stunk of him giving up on her. So she stubbornly spent each night with him instead of the group. He didn’t stop her, and neither did Shashk, which only worried her more.
Eventually, as if to confirm those fears, Tok strode ahead of the group, heading off on his own and leaving them behind. It was after another discussion with one of the other Blackscales. A female, also with deep blue eyes, the red spot on her throat smaller than a males, though she was larger than her Provider by more than four feet in height.
So he too abandons me… She felt her hopes wither and die. He was her only open advocate.
The day they finally arrived, she couldn’t help but be a little impressed by the holy city.
It was in the center of a lake, walled in with massive constructions that looked to be part of the ruins that filled the Truescale territory. Stone paths spread across it, and a vast multitude of the four broods traveled along them. Some paths crossed a massive pool in the center, like the temple on the Hatchery Island.
The Blackscales stood out the most, towering over all the others, conversing, and even entering dwellings sized for themselves. Members of all four broods floated in the water lazily. Conversing, or in some cases, napping.
Temple. Her Instinct hissed, awe in the hue.
It was enormous. Each level occupied by members of the brood enacting sacred rites, sacrificing living creatures to the Gods, coating the walls in blood. Mounds of skulls, the Heroes of her people, lay in piles at every level too.
She could see them being tended by acolytes, Instinctively knowing that they were lower caste than those doing the sacrifices based on their garments.
“To appease the Gods.” Shashk hissed, stepping up beside the Initiate. She looked down at Vivex. “Do not speak anything but the Truetongue here, my student. And do not do anything foolish.”
Vivex grunted, glad to not have to keep translating her thoughts, to just take in something so new without that distraction.
Conclave at the top. Her Instinct hissed. Proving her right as the information arrived at the last moment.
“The brood gathers for the mating. Soon they shall split into Species.” Shashk continued, looking at the crowds and hissing in disgust. “A damned beehive this time of year.”
The wind shifted, and Vivex could smell it too. That distasteful musky reek of pheromones. She snorted to try and get the smell out of her snout. It had to be unbareable over where the gathering Truescales were if she could smell it from here.
They entered through the wall and headed towards the massive temple. There was no need for the guards to stop them, they were there only to protect against invaders.
One of them, another Blackscale, also had red eyes.
Is it a genetic trait?
Her Instinct seemed to shrug inside her mind.
The big male looked down at her with a glare, clearly dismissing her after only a second of inspection. A completely different aspect than her Provider.
It wasn’t too long before they were close to the Temple. Walking the gauntlet of the crowds, the reek of their pheromones disgusting Vivex and Shashk alike, based on the Redscales flapping frill and snapping tail. It aired out once they got closer to the temple, the crowds lessening. The structure had thousands of steps up, two different sizes. Ones clearly made for Blackscales, with smaller ones on either side for the other three broods.
“When do we head up here?” She asked, making sure to flash deference to her Teacher, wanting to keep her in a good mood. Acidic fear once again filled her belly, which stirred up her stubborn anger in response.
I will not be made into Fodder. I will not!
Her Instinct snarled and roared in her black and red inside her mind, agreeing. Dominate!
“I head up there, Initiate.” Shashk said, and they came to where the steps began, a Bluescale in a flowing headdress of Kingbill feathers and yellow earthbone holding up his clawed hand.
“What is this, Ambassador Shashk?” His prefixes were full of disgust. “A snack for the council?”
“This is Vivex. Neonate to the Provider Tok.” Shashk began, her prefixes signaling mild praise and disagreement.
Hope, weak and shriveled, struggled towards the sun. Is she going to name me Casted? Praise was uncommon, and to disagree like that…
The Bluescale examined Vivex as one of the other acolytes next to him leaned closer and whispered to him so that she couldn’t hear.
She ignored all of that, staring at Shashk. Was it going to work out?
The Redscale did not look at her.
“What is your judgement then of her standing?” The Bluescale asked. “Zegoth, Keshka, and Tok all have spoken on this matter already. As have some of her nestmates.”
Vivex blinked, not sure how to take that. Were they here?
Pay attention fool!
Shashk hissed.
“Your judgement is requested.” The Bluescale repeated.
“As of now, in this moment, the answer is obvious.” Shashk said, her tail undulating, but Vivex ignored it. Hanging on every spoken word of the Ambassador.
Vivex stared, eyes wide open, hope growing stronger by the second. She would be able to earn her way through the castes! She would be able to continue her line! To have a legacy.
“She is Fodder.” Shashk said, with the finality of a crushed skull.
It was inevitable. As if the combined forces of the Brood’s Dogma and the machinations of the Gods could have ever been denied when I was that young. Now both know to tread lightly.
-From Cogitations: 2:5-7