“If I catch them, I will break their every bone and slurp their marrow while they still live. I will force their damnable trunks down their throats and enjoy the sight of them choking on their own bile as they vomit. If I see another indlovu, it had better be their heads spitted on a post and left to rot.” Shemira seethed as she stalked forward and forced her magic out and over the herds.
Meanwhile, Joral screamed, “Shut up!” into the face of a panicking oxfiend, and it quickly settled down with his rage and the multiple magical influences fighting to force it to peace. The Inkulu sent a group of nearly invisible trouble-seekers at least once a day, and had been ever since we’d in a supposedly amicable manner parted ways twelve days before. We still walked through similar lands, gently rolling hills with sporadic rivers and sparse tree cover, and there wasn’t anything noteworthy to see other than the mountain range that had gradually continued to grow along the eastern horizon. And the Inkulu continued their harassment.
Whenever I sent a scout or tracker after them, they immediately disappeared. Whenever we sent patrols out to see if we could find where they went, there was no trail left behind. Whenever there was even the beginning of our herds displaying panic, they melted back into the Nievtala-forsaken grass. Twelve days had passed, and the only thing that we’d been able to do was kill a single indlovu hunter, and that was more by fluke than skill.
The indlovu must have been keeping all the wildlife away from our path, since we frequently came across hints of oxfiend, oryx, something deerlike, hyena, and much more, but never spotted a single creature. Except for once. On the third day, following a hunch from Foire, we’d located a watering hole, where nearly one hundred oxfiends drank and relaxed. As we frequently did, several packs of keelish moved to stealthily surround the beasts and begin the hunt and subjugation. I led the main pack, ready to release some of my impotent rage against any beast that dared to stand in my way. To my surprise, one did, but it wasn’t an oxfiend.
“No. Our stewardship, no hunting. Move along.” The indlovu hunter commanded, his voice decisive and dismissive. I didn’t answer him with words. My throat filled with sonic magic, and I shouted, with [Murderous Melody] strengthened by rage, “You are a fool! Feed my swarm!” He’d been so surprised by my violent response and stunned by my magical attack that my spear plunged through his eye long before he could react. While he still reeled, I lunged forward, claws seeking his viscera, and with [Destructive Wave] strengthening my strikes, it took only one swipe of each hand to disembowel him entirely. His guts coated my face as he tumbled to the ground. I didn’t care to learn his name as he gasped his last. Other indlovu in the nearby grasses fled, seeing the immediate repercussions that befell their companion. Most of my swarm dedicated themselves to capturing the oxfiends, and we successfully subjugated them to bring them back into our fold. Unfortunately, none of my keelish could chase the indlovu down, though we finally learned a little about how they, as a people, could disguise themselves from our view.
“It is not as much an actual camouflage,” Sybil explained, “so much as convincing the subconscious of the surrounding creatures that their existence is wholly unremarkable. I am attuned to their manner of communication, thus I am capable of feeling them much more readily than others. Conversely, Foire is impressively diligent and skilled. He has subconsciously trained himself to notice when that subtle tug on his emotions begins, and thus is only minorly affected by the tug of the indlovu’s magic.”
Knowing how the towering people evaded notice was only slightly comforting, since they still prowled around the edges of the swarm and attempted to disrupt our husbandry and strike the unaware. On the seventh day, they’d struck and slain two of the weakest keelish in the swarm, and though we were unable to return the deaths in kind, their Pack Alpha managed to rip four fingers from the killer’s hand. With one of their limited number dead, and another reduced nearly to a cripple, the indlovu refused to continue to engage in direct conflict. Even with our direct military might uncontested, we all prayed that the damnable, worthless, cowardly bastards would drop dead.
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Most of our time was spent calming and hustling the herds onward, though now that they’d been so frequently thrown into a panic, every little command and moment became a trial. Sybil, Shemira, and Farahlia worked their hardest to calm them, but even as several other keelish gained rudimentary magical powers to help with the husbandry, the path forward remained frustrating and long. Even so, a few positives came out of the forced rationing and march.
Though so many of the elites had already begun to cut back on our excessive consumption and indulgence, Sybil and her assistants now enforced a mere one meal a day for every member of the swarm. It didn’t matter and we didn’t care what excuses any of the keelish brought to us, though none dared to approach me, and few Alphas were foolish enough to speak to Sybil about it. The brief moment of acceptance I’d felt about my somewhat tenuous hold over my position as Swarm Alpha swiftly died down in the face of petty complaints. If some wanted to discuss how I knew that these mountains would spell the next chapter and our final destination, then I’d have happily spoken with them.
Instead, what I received was second and third degree accounts of ingrates complaining about how they couldn’t stuff themselves every day any more. Fools wishing they didn’t have to walk. The useless who wished to return to a den, where they could laze and relax without any responsibility. It culminated in the most petty complaint I’d never dreamed of hearing from a keelish.
“The hunts are hard. We can’t find anything, so we’re walking around for no reason.”
When Vefir passed that one on, I’d lost all sense of reasonability. I gathered every single keelish, sending my elites to ring the herds to ensure no indlovu attempted to seize the opportunity to sow additional discord in my ranks. The weak, foolish keelish were the true originators of the complaints, but I knew many of the newest khatif too wondered and doubted the validity of my claims. Beyond that, they had forgotten who I was. As the rage boiled within me and I prepared to address my swarm, I stood before them all. Brutus and Ytte too had placed themselves alongside me, their gazes hard and unrelenting. I unexpectedly felt the familiar descent of a feeling of respect and reverence as I spoke.
“Already, you forget.” I shouted, my voice rebuking every keelish nearby with the magical lashings of [Disastrous Discourse]. “I saved Farahlia’s swarm from extermination at the hands of the Moonchildren. She and her swarm’s days were numbered! I wrenched the nameless and weak from mediocrity to greater heights! None of you had ever seen a khatif before me, and now I’ve raised you to a higher existence! That is not the end, for we can see our destination!” I pointed at the far-off mountains as I ceased channeling [Disastrous Discourse], instead rallying my people with [Innervating Address]. “There, I will ascend to Keel and bring the worthy up with me!
“Instead of preparing for the glorious future laid before us, you complain of the merely inconvenient present! We are keelish, and it has been our lot in life to suffer before the stronger and eke out an existence wherever we can. How have you forgotten the tyranny of the strong, when so many of you still cannot begin to comprehend the depth of strength that exists?” A sense of finality settled over me as I Spoke the True Iteration of the First of the Words of Power of Nievtala.
“Through the flaming crucible of war are we refined and through the quenching in the blood of our foes are we strengthened! We are Nievtala’s people, those who will become Keel! Leave behind your weakness, and follow me to victory, and to our final home!”
I ignored the cheers and excitement my rallying speech brought. Instead I took note of the [System] messages, and was surprised and disappointed to see no mention of potential evolution.
[Status updated. Skill acquired.]