The most notable change found within the keelish as compared to the Keel was not, as many would assume, the physical and magical growth. Much of that could have been remedied by the substantially greater rate of reproduction within the keelish’s race, given that quantity can be a quality all on its own. No, the greatest difference was the implementation of military strategy and planning. The Principality was the first to witness that qualitative difference, when their annual hunts became a lasting war.
-From Wars and Peace in a Post-Apotheosis World.
“YOU!” I bellowed, my emotions having long since swelled past frustration and towards rage. “YOU are Gri, and YOU respond to that because it is YOUR name!”
Never before had I dreamed that the mere act of teaching a fully grown keelish its name would drive me to such anger, but after the fourth time of an entire pack trying to respond to its Alpha’s name, any illusions of the newest keelish’s intelligence had long since left my sanity and good intentions behind. With a whirl of my tail, I gestured for literally anyone else to take over for me before stalking away.
189 of the other keelish were slain in that needless fight, while 28 of our own fell. None of the core group had overextended enough to sport more than superficial wounds, since the enemy keelish had focused on bringing the much larger khatif down to their level. With the khatif, as well as most of my own keelish, supporting each other, the enemy keelish were unable to strike many killing blows. Even so, Vefir and Etra quickly exhausted themselves in attempting to heal whoever survived, and others had slowly succumbed to their wounds. Those fortunate enough to survive their wounds were now left to slowly recuperate as Vefir and Etra treated them mundanely.
More than the 217 keelish who had died, though there were nearly 900 who now joined us. A true swarm, now, as many keelish under my command as Redael had commanded before I’d overthrown him. 1200 keelish followed my every command, and there were immediate and obvious differences between castes and groups within them.
At the bottom, there were nine hundred keelish that were, apparently for the first time, learning what the concept of a name was. How they had been able to grow to such a large number without such a basic level of communication between them completely boggled my mind, but that was the reality. Above them were the dregs of Farahlia’s swarm, those who still didn’t qualify to become khatif, for whatever reason. Over one hundred keelish who were, at least, intelligent enough to speak in full sentences. Even so, those leftovers from Farahlia’s swarm now fit somewhat awkwardly into the swarm as a whole, since the khatif above them numbered well over two hundred.
“Can… you make me an Alpha?” A trembling voice interrupted my frustrated stalking. I’d been about to check on my [System] notifications in the hope to take my mind from the litany of new difficulties a huge, unintelligent swarm would bring me. I whirled to look at whatever it was that spoke. A male keelish, small and unremarkable, stood there.
“I don’t make the packs.” I responded, tail lashing. “A pack creates itself and follows the Alpha they choose. I don’t choose Alphas.”
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“But… you could!” He insisted. “I could be an Alpha for you for these new keelish!” A moment later, his face and coloration struck me and I realized I knew who he was.
“You know Yamal,” I responded. “She was just like you before, but she decided that she wanted to become more than she already was. Now, she is a khatif, and a pack Alpha, and you are still keelish and forgotten.” This was one of the males that had been with Yamal, that keelish I’d given a name to instead of eating her as she’d feared. “You only wanted to live, so you’re alive. You haven’t grown, you haven’t learned, you have merely walked alongside your companions and allowed them to push themselves while you stayed the same. How do you think that any pack would accept you as an Alpha?”
The male who may have gotten a name I didn’t bother to learn in the weeks that had passed quailed under my unforgiving gaze. After hesitating, he answered, “I… I… just want to be special.”
“Then be special!” I nearly shouted in frustration, the emotions from my frustrating attempts to teach wearing through. “It isn’t up to me! It isn’t up to anyone else! If you want to do something, to be something, to go somewhere, to grow, then DO IT. Maybe I could coddle you and hope to push you to some elevated state, but why would I do that? What would I gain? You already follow me, and have shown that you’re too weak-willed to make anything of yourself. Why would I sacrifice my time and energy leading you specifically when you won’t walk by yourself?”
I watched as my heavy words settled into the keelish, his tail laying flat on the ground as he began to give up on his own future. “If you want to grow, then work. You do the bare minimum for yourself right now. That means you’re happy where you are. If you’re not happy, do something different.” Then, I leaned down and filled my throat with [Nurturing Enunciation], “You are a keelish. A proud son of Nievtala, a follower of Ashlani. You will follow us to Nievtra and establish a new home for us and all keelish. Be that keelish.”
A hint of stone entered his eyes, and he stood, shoulders back and face ready to go through the difficulties of life. His voice firmed up as he asked, “What should I do? Who should I follow for now?”
Nearly, I dismissed him out of hand. However, something I hadn’t paid much attention to lately burned at the back of my mind. The sincerity of his question triggered [Evolutionary Exemplar] even without my will or desire. With surprise, I knew who to call, and though he was exhausted, he’d welcome the help, if it came with genuine effort.
“Vefir! Don’t stand up.” I commanded when I saw the collapsed healer and began walking towards him. “This one will be helping you from now on. If he doesn’t have a name, give him one. He has the makings of a healer, though I don’t know if he’ll measure up to you.”
Vefir grunted and turned his head towards the male. Though confused by my choice, he still stood strong.
“Name?”
“Cra–I will earn one.” He cut himself off from saying whatever the name he’d had before was. A fierce grin crossed my face as I firmly patted his back. Maybe he would cut himself newer, sharper fangs after all. Vefir forced himself to sit up as he began quizzing the newly nameless keelish on his understanding of bodies and how they healed. So much of what he was saying rang true with my own understanding of how a body healed from my experience as a nearly High Speaker level of Wavespeaker. Obviously, that understanding came from his magic, and knowing how little I truly compared to the magical prowess of a High Speaker, I could look forward to what we could continue to become.
I began walking away, again pulling up my [Status] to see how I had improved.