The return of the strong spatial ripple is surprising. Especially considering it reappeared without my moving. That very fact clears away my original thought of it being a natural part of the cavern.

While I didn’t know what caused it, it had remained present both in this cavern and the Other Side. When riding on the spine of that train, it had disappeared so quickly because of some shift in the cavern ceiling far above. But for it to have returned while I linger in the same spot, it means the origin is moving.

Maybe it's a beast clinging to the ceiling of this giant cavern. Is there a titan simply lying in wait above all these creatures, and none knows any better? It has become blatantly clear in the time since arriving at the surface, that I am the only one who can see space. The rest see… something else.

Could these sapients be completely oblivious to such a danger lurking just beyond the reach of their sight?

As the ripple pleasantly warms my scales, I allow myself to calm down. If there truly is a Titan hanging above — disregarding just how strong the cavern ceiling would have to be to support such a creature — then it must be unlikely to drop and destroy everything as a Nareau would. If that was the case, such a massive hive of sapients couldn’t possibly have reached this size. It would simply take too long to build if they had to face such beings.

Around me, the sapients grow noisy again. Few chatter, but there are plenty slamming their doors behind them as they leave their abode. It can’t be a coincidence that the birds and sapients all awake in time with this intense spatial ripple. I’m sure it’s not, but I can’t concoct a connection that fits.

There aren’t many sapients wandering around yet, but with the rate they grow, they’ll fill the streets in no time. Should I wait in hiding somewhere so that I can overhear more conversation, or should I continue moving? It’s a difficult choice.

I slither around another corner and find a small group of sapients. Despite their differing species, they all have similar fake-skins strapped over their bodies. The octopus-like beings each have bands of cloth around each limb where the tentacles connect to their body, while the khirig amongst them has the same strap around its upper arms. In the khirig’s case, the cloth stretches across the whole soft body contained within its cage of antlers.

The three wearing similar fake-skins surround another tentacle creature wearing nothing. It sits on the ledge of a series of steps leading up to the door of a nest.

“Do you have the relevant paperwork this time? You know we have been lenient and given you two extra weeks. Not many are so lucky.” One of those wearing the fake-skin speaks with a hard tone, and I settle out of sight to listen in.

“Please, just another week. I’m trying to get a job, but nobody is hiring,” the one sitting on the steps pleads.

“As you have remained unemployed for three months, you are to be conscripted into the Meja Armed Forces.”

The other two besides the speaker step forward and grab a hold of the seated sapient, forcing him to stand.

“You can’t do this! I’ve seen the papers; I know how many died in the last war. Don’t send me to my death,” he struggles for a moment in the grasp of others, but quickly concedes to them when they start gripping tighter.

“Those numbers are simple exaggeration. Do-”

“Exaggeration!?” the creature interrupts. “Half the friends I had are now dead.”

The fake-skin wearing one sighs. “I understand, but that is the fault of the Mercenary Order’s previous heads. They have been executed, and the tragedy of the last war will not be repeated. Things will be different. Are you not a proud dohrni of Meja? Do you not wish to provide for your family? The people of the matriarchy need you.”

Dohrni? Is that what these tentacle creatures are called? I’m not sure about much else that is said, as there is simply so many words thrown around that I’m unfamiliar with the context, but I’m pretty sure I’m right in regards to the species name.

The dohrni grunts and his eyes drop to the ground beneath his limbs. “No. I want to live.”

The dohrni wearing the bands of fake-skin sighs again. “Well, we gave him the opportunity.” His words no longer seem directed at the one he had been speaking to. “He’ll be marked as unwilling.” And with that said, his eyes turn in his head and he walks to the centre of the road where one of those small trains waits.

The other two fake-skin wearing sapients drag the dohrni behind him and load him into the open back of the train before shutting the door. The dohrni struggles and shouts as they do, but cannot break from their grip.

I watch the small train roar to life before rolling down the street and turning the corner. The front of the nest, quiet once more.

Any time these sapients speak, I struggle to decipher their meaning. The words themselves make sense, but so often the way they weave them together leaves me dumbfounded and confused. All I can do is grasp at possible meanings behind what they say.

What is employment? What did the fact that half the dohrni’s friends were dead have to do with anything they were speaking of? Bits and pieces like how he was being forced to do something was clear, but exactly what that is, I don’t know. At best, I can guess they are imposing a change of caste upon him… but even that doesn’t seem right. He doesn’t have the strength to survive a shift to he warrior caste, and what others could there be besides worker and warrior for the vast majority?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Not having the answers to any of my questions readily available, I turn to slither away. Only to immediately bump into another dohrni I somehow didn’t hear coming. Before I can react, a tentacle whips out and curls around my head. The strength behind the limb strong enough to clamp my jaw shut. I struggle to open my mouth, but it won’t budge. It may only be my smallest size, but the fact that It can overpower me means its the strongest sapient I’ve met.

Before the creature can use its advantage, I curl up my body and whip out at the tentacle holding me. Free once more, I pass through a bend, avoiding the next tentacle that tried to recapture me and slither through the air until I’m a good few body lengths away.

“Well, you're quite the strange one, aren’t you.” The dohrni’s eyes curl into an obvious smile despite having lost its hold on me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flying snake before. Nor one that can do… whatever that is you’re doing.”

Almost as if the relatively strong dohrni had planned it, an instant after he said the words, a search group of warrior caste turned the corner. I glance at them through a bend, but keep my attention mostly on the one ahead of me. He’s the only threat here. Not likely much of one, but still.

The group of warrior caste clearly didn’t expect to see me here, but they react quickly, and surround me from behind while I stare down the dohrni.

“Ah, I guess you’re the one that riled up the lower city last night. What are the chances I’d be the one to run into you?” the dohrni speaks to me, but it is clear the words are more musings than any actual effort to communicate.

With a snap of its limbs, I watch as sharp slabs of metal suddenly appear on the end of each tentacle after curling up for an instant. As with any other sapient I’ve come across, this one seems to rely on creations rather than their natural bodies to fight. The four behind me rush up until they’re almost within striking range, but I never take my eyes from the sapient ahead of me. I’d rather not make any assumptions about this one’s strength until I’ve seen everything. After all my wandering, I realised it’s possible there are those still far stronger than the ones who failed to stop me breaching the surface.

“That's a frightening look you've got in your eye,” the dohrni says, his own eyes widening slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to speak, would you?”

That is a strange question from one of the castes that's done nothing but attack me so far, but unlike the earlier musings, this is clearly a direct question. It has spoken to me, and expects an answer.

All thoughts of punishing this dohrni for grabbing me as he did flee my mind. Instead, all I can focus on is that this is my first opportunity to engage in conversation with another creature.

But… how do I speak? I never did figure that part out. The Beyond told me that any sapient creature can speak, but I still do not know how. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed the task off so long.

Before I can figure out how I'm supposed to respond, one of the weaker warrior caste strike me from behind. The creature has the audacity to think it could sneak up on me, and the picture of confidence on its face shows it doesn’t think it could miss.

Unfortunately for it, I barely even need bends to avoid its slow strikes. I curl around the fake-claw, slithering past its body, and bite the back of its neck as punishment. It collapses to the earth almost too easily.

Returning my gaze to the surprisingly friendly dohrni, I ready myself to try communicating in some fashion despite being unable to speak. Shake my head or gesture with my tail; it looks close enough to the dohrni’s tentacles, after all. I can imitate their body language. But I no longer find those kind, smiling eyes.

The dohrni stands stiff as the body of my attacker crumbles to the ground before him. “Why do I never learn,” he mumbles, staring down at the fresh corpse. “I am sorry child. I should have acted sooner.”

The metal gauntlets slam into my side, sending me skidding along the earth, tearing up hundreds of rectangular stones. The dohrni moved faster than I expected. In an instant, it had gone from an unhostile stance, to its limbs swinging through air before I have the time to react.

I slither back into the air and inspect where the dohrni struck. Half a dozen scales are crushed, blood leaking through the remnants despite the mostly blunt force. A few ribs are broken, and I’ll have to grow at least twice my size to recover.

If I could grow to just that much, the strike, no matter how fast it is, won’t hurt me… but I can’t do that without sacrificing my bends. I still can’t force them much bigger than my smallest size.

The dohrni stares me down as I watch from a loop of bends above. He flicks each limb one after the other, shattering the air and leaving crack after crack to echo through the streets. None of the other warrior caste move. Upon this dohrni’s attack, they each back away.

“Remus? Sir?”

“You three should stay out of this,” the dohrni says, never breaking eye contact with me.

A gauntlet crashes past me, my head whipping out of the way to avoid it. My eyes left the dohrni for only a moment, but that is all he needed to spring forward, and arrive close enough to swing. Sneaky. But also Intelligent. I slide through a bend, but the creature alters the trajectory of its swing mid-course. The impact uses the bend against me, pinning me in place to take the full brunt.

I coil around in pain, passing through another bend to bite at the base of tentacle before ripping the flesh free. The dohrni takes a step back, and I take some space too. My wound is rather bad, and I really should gain some size before I get any worse injuries; I don’t know what other tricks the sapients can pull that I’m not accustomed to in my fights.

Just as I’m about to give up on my bends and take on the dohrni with my greater size, the streets suddenly thrive with warrior caste members. Dozens turn the street corner in near unison, and are quickly followed by plenty more.

The hive is reacting, and if I do take on my true size, there will be no leaving; the only path I would have is that of a slaughter.

My opponent, the dohrni, clutches his wounded tentacle. It hangs unmoving, while blood flows freely, dripping over the stone of the street. I’ll have to be satisfied with that as its punishment alone. Any more fighting is only asking for more of the hive to show up.

I let go of any reservations about hiding myself. It’s not like they don’t already know where I am.

A powerful hiss ripples through my minuscule throat with the full power of my being. Doing so with my smallest size makes me feel like I’m squeezing through a tight hole, but my presence flows regardless.

My hiss thrums through space, freezing everything it holds. The world falls silent. Every sapient’s muscles grow stiff, unable to move. Their eyes glaze over, unable to see. Water stills in the fountain, no longer flowing, and the warm lines threading through the nests extinguish entirely.

Only the dohrni before me seems to remain aware, even if his muscles grow as stiff as any other. Wide eyes show realisation and fear where they weren’t a moment ago.

I have no hope for this hive any longer. They’ve grown too aware of my existence and it will only grow more difficult to listen in to conversations if warrior caste like this dohrni search for me. As much as they seem determined to die at my fangs, I don’t actually want to kill them.

Twisting, I pass through a bend and disappear from his sight. The next hive I find, I’ll learn from this one and remain far more discreet.

I ignore the permeating silence as I leave the hive.