I stopped torturing myself with [Spear of the Many] as the swarm stepped into the mountains’ shadow. According to the Administrator, these should be the Shandise, assuming they were the mountains where Nievtra once was.

[Yes, these are the Shandise Mountains.] The Administrator answered. [They’ve gotten smaller.]

At her mention of their height, I looked up. The mountain seemed to scratch the suns above, the peak dusted with white. All the way up, forests grew and colored the stone, deep greens, darker than those of the Martanimis jungles where I was born. The greenery didn’t grow quite so thickly as the jungles of my birth, but still they teemed with life. Instead of the constant drone of insects and other minute creatures, the forest seemed to swim with flying birds and subtle movement among the trees and bushes. Dozens of types of creatures obviously lived where we could see them. We would be able to survive here, beyond the mere climate. More than that, though, I saw the possibility within this climate to continue to raise prey.

We’d cut an unforgiving swathe through the land, leaving corpses and trampled fields wherever we walked. Now that we’d found a place to settle, I refused to destroy that which would be our home. Instead, we would continue to rely on Joral and his burgeoning pack of shepherds. Calling them as much brought a smile to my face, making me think of myself as a human child. The memory was somewhat fuzzy, I couldn’t see what I’d tended or where, but I remembered that being called a shepherd boy was somehow slightly insulting to me. In fact, it made me feel like I was weak or unimportant, that I’d been relegated to a child’s work.

That was far from what these keelish and khatif shepherds had become. Each needed to be strong enough to stop an oxfiend, quick enough to catch an oryx, and forceful enough to command a hyena, to say nothing of a wolfstag. As we’d continued on our journey, I recognized that Joral and his pack were no longer Hak’Tal khatif, but something else entirely. The longer I spent among my people, the more I cemented myself as their Swarm Alpha and something more than that as well, the better I understood the khatif castes.

Though I hadn’t and wouldn’t become truly Zak’Tal, what I understood to be royalty, until after my evolution to Keel, I knew Shemira, Sybil, Vefir, and I were what could be called nobility or Sou’Tal. Before, the sole castes directly below us were the Hak’Tal, the warriors, and the Sik’Tal, the hunters. Brutus, Took, Ytte, and Percral were among the warriors, while Foire, Trai, Solia, and Joral had been hunters. Now, however, Joral was no Sik’Tal. The shepherds created a new caste, one I could feel was on the same level as the Hak’Tal and Sik’Tal. The Kou’Tal sported a different build than the other two castes in their same stratum, not so burly and immense as the Hak’Tal, but less wiry and lithe than the Sik’Tal. Instead, similar to the Sou’Tal, the shepherding Kou’Tal were of medium build, their legs proportionally longer than the others. Their tails and arms too were thicker than before, while their necks were no longer so thick and muscled as the Hak’Tal warriors. Then, there were the unremarkable Kha’Tal, those who had only barely qualified to become khatif. They were smaller, weaker, and much less likely to develop any additional skills than any other caste.

Joral led his pack with pride, confident in commanding or directing the herds as necessary. All the wolfstags, except for Arwa, obviously considered him to be their master, even the Wave Wolfstags who’d previously followed at Sybil’s heels every step. Now, the wolfstags and the Kou’Tal worked together in concert, pushing the herds forward as I, whole and healthy once more, led the swarm onwards.

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Step by step, the mostly flat ground transitioned to rolling hills. The Shandise pierced the heavens above us, taller still than any other mountains we’d seen before, either in the Sheer Pass or whatever the mountains in the Veratocracy’s lands were named. I couldn’t say for certain, but if I were to guess, I’d have said that this mountain was nearly twice as tall as those we’d seen before. Its peak stretched high above the light cloud cover, though the clouds were thin enough that I could still spot the tip, a jagged challenge to the skies’ superiority.

[I don’t jest. These mountains have been worn down by the ravages of time, forced to bow to the heavens’ majesty. Still they remain some of the tallest peaks on the planet, but they are not so majestic as once they were. You are a young mountain, little fang. Do not allow the heavens or other celestial or mundane jealousy rip you from your divinely provided future. There is much yet for you to accomplish.]

The Administrator withdrew her presence as she spoke, but Nievtala’s presence descended over me as the Administrator finished. Most of my elites immediately sensed the goddess’s attention, while the rest of the swarm evidently felt her words when she spoke.

You are near. I cannot direct you further. Find Nievtra. Ascend once more.

I shrugged off the divine presence with practiced ease, while those few who remained that had acquired [Fanatic’s Fortitude], Sybil, Foire, Vefir, and Took, only staggered for a brief moment. The rest of the swarm collapsed under the pressure of a divine being’s presence. Most of the herds panicked, their eyes rolling wildly as they searched for the origin of their unnatural fear. I shouted, drawing heavily on my sonic magic. The wordless command calmed most of the herds, and the keelish recovered as quickly as they could manage.

“I cannot say what our goddess has commanded,” Sybil spoke while ignoring the barely noticeable droplet of blood trickling from her nose. She raised her voice to ensure it carried over the swarm as she spoke, “but I would suppose that you can. Please, Alpha. Enlighten us.”

“We have not reached the ruins of Nievtra.” I began, allowing the disappointment to settle in. “However! We have arrived in the area! Our goddess will allow us to locate our future home here, to select where to settle, and find the final key to ascend to becoming true Keel! No longer must we wander and hope for salvation! This is our land! Any who dare to stand in the way as we build our homes will be subjugated, exiled, or consumed!”

The swarm exploded into excited screeches at my declaration, that we would only need to find the best place to settle instead of continuing to flee our enemies. Took stood up in front of me, ready to address the swarm for a moment. I flared my frills and acknowledged her. My huntmaster stood tall and declared, “Though we have arrived in our land, we can’t stop yet. We need to cross the mountains before we make our homes.” She ignored the hushed complaints, though many of them were directed towards me, hoping I’d contradict her. “If we don’t cross them, then the indlovu will be able to easily assault our homes, steal our herds, and kill our young.” Then, her piece declared, Took stepped back.

Though most of the complaints died at her reasoning, Sybil spoke in support of Took. “There will be no complaint. The Alpha has spoken, and if you wish to leave his swarm, you are not welcome in our lands.” My mate turned to me, and I again flared my frills in agreement.

“Now, let’s see if there’s anything worth hunting in these forests.” I spoke, and most of the keelish roared their approval.