The white nothing clears up again to the familiar view of a rune covered cell and Harijia looking at me intently. I'm not going to cause a scene this time and obediently go to the rear of the small room and press my head against the device. The headache was manageable and is completely gone in just a bit longer than ten seconds. When I begin to move away, Harijia speaks up.

"Longer," she hisses.

When I don't immediately obey, she repeats the command in a more threatening tone. I don't see any other way out of here. Reining in my temper I push my head back again. There is barely any sensation now, just something cool on the back of my head. Ten seconds, twenty, thirty and longer I stay there. Around the one minute mark she visibly slumps and opens the door.

"Nothing, right? Now, get out." The words come out short and terse.

It takes me a moment to realize. She is trying to recreate the one time where I was summoned in quick succession. I hope she's not going to lock me up for several days again to see if that helps, but it may be inevitable. Better get out of here before she changes her mind! As soon as the cell door is far enough open I sprint out, regardless of how close that will take me to Harijia. I'm sure I can feel her stare following me out down the corridor, but I don't look around to verify.

The next few days I spend trying to avoid Harijia and any other keepers, just in case she's looking for me. It's not as easy as I thought it would be due to quite a few of the younger swarmlings still following me around. They seem to take it as a game and are soon copying me in a grand game of hide and seek with over fifty participants and no clear rules about who is hiding and who is seeking. A number of other demons are ambushed by accident with varying reactions. Some are very upset and cause quite the uproar until they're certain all nearby swarmlings are gone. Others join in with the chaos for a while.

The first kind does not surprise me, but the second does. Perhaps it shouldn't have? I have noted it before, aside of my kinship bond with other swarmlings I can feel a similar feeling with the other demons here. Something tells me that we are the same species, even when we are different species. I think that is why they call all of us demons even when we are all different.

It's a good thing, in my opinion, as they add a bit more to the little chaos we are creating which helps me stay out of sight. After a few days some of the older members of our fake swarm join in too, always as seekers as they have a harder time hiding. Plus, if they start running there is no way we can catch them, so it's more fun for all involved if they are the hunters. It's also hammering home many of the lessons I recently learned in the dungeon.

Stay close to a surface, mind the colors, don't make a noise. Sometimes, to stop moving when you spot someone is a bad choice. The absence of noise and movement will immediately draw attention. It's fun and keeping me busy, but there is one more thing I want to work on.

As much as I don't want to admit it, I'm still weak. The other swarmlings my age are not much bigger, sometimes even smaller, but they are much bulkier. All their limbs have more well-defined muscles than mine. Except for the flying ones, of course, and I have been styling myself after them. I won't give up, I will still work on flying one day, but perhaps it is time to work with what I have now instead.

It's somewhat funny. My one plan that could be described as a 'theory' may have done me more harm than good. In order to fly, I need to stay light. It has taught me something new, though. This 'plan' was based on everything going as I wanted to. I only need to take one look around to know it never goes the way I want to, so I should plan accordingly. My new plan is to get stronger fast and figure out how to fly later. One thing I remember. I will not always be here, I will not always be safe. I need to make the most of this time.

An additional and unwanted result of this change in thinking is the number of problems I can think of keeps growing. Trying to think of ways to avoid as much serious trouble is keeping me awake at night and giving me a headache. I'm calling these thoughts 'What Ifs' and they are very distracting and not very helpful.

I need to focus on my new training. It's a simple training. Find a big rock and push it. When it becomes easier, find a bigger rock and push it. If the rock is too heavy, hit it with my claws until it isn't. I still remember how hard it was to push my claws through the Drallith's hide and how powerless I felt when I got stuck. Neither my rear limbs or my front were strong enough for what I needed to do and I ended up being used by Mari. I will not let that happen again.

I start off with lifting small rocks from the ground. It's a movement I'm not used to, using only my rear limbs to stand and my front ones to grasp. It's still heavy and I need to use my tail a lot to maintain my balance. If I ever run into doors that open the wrong way, at least I'll have a chance with this practice. Cautiously stepping backwards while holding the rock, I trip and fall. It may take some time to make this work.

Frustrated by my continuous failures, I decide to leave this be for the rest of the day. I really feel like hitting rocks now, so I pick some solid looking ones to vent some frustration on. Normal slashes score the surface, but it's not what I'm aiming for. Forcing my claws together again, I thrust towards the stone! It hits with a crack and glances off. Some stone fractured, but there is also a jagged bit on my claws.

Again and again I strike the rock. Tiny differences in the stone in front of me have a large effect. Sometimes a single hit causes large fractures, sometimes none at all. An unevenness may cause my claws to slide off or help me bring my strength to focus on one point. There is no way I can tell yet what causes the different result, but I've come far enough to tell what it will be on the moment of impact. It saves me from being unbalanced when all my strength is deflected off to the side at the very least.

The swarmlings who usually accompany me have started to drift off. This is not a fun new game to participate in. Some stay to observe me and laze about doing nothing, while others go back to playing their favorites from the new games. I'm slightly amazed at the apathy. I know now that the swarmlings back at the colony were not lazing around but standing guard. Why are the ones here not doing anything? I will find an answer, some day but not today, so it goes on the list of things to think about later.

In the meantime it's time for the next exercise. Choosing a boulder of a bit less than my own size I prepare to push it, using the strength of all my limbs, except the spike-things on my back. If they're not going to be wings, I should find some use for them other than stopping lightning. Pushing a shoulder against the rock I push, without result. I did not expect result. I expect to push with everything I can until I can not, then I will repeat it again and again.

By the time it is time for 'night', my limbs are shaking. I try to hide it as I make my way to the sleep cavern. Weakness of any sort is not something I like to show so openly. I've been tired before, but this is different. Arriving at the cave I look at the wall, then at the ceiling. I've slept clinging on to some unevenness up there for many nights, but this is the first time I don't feel like climbing up the wall and a treacherous 'what if' asks me what would I do if my hold slipped in the night due to how tired I am. I will sleep on the floor tonight.

The next morning I feel some mild pain all over my abused limbs and body. This does not stop me from starting again that morning after feeding, or the next morning, or the next.

It's on the fourth day of my self-imposed training that a male devil appears at the area with the rocks. He is not like most of the other folk here, much burlier and more muscled. Most notably, his horns are bigger too. The devils that visit here normally are to help with language and with thinking. Quite a few demons listen to them every day. In the beginning I was still wondering what they were learning there. Now, realizing how much my thinking has been affected by Ara and Tarvinder, I am not sure if I want to know. If I ever do, I am sure Harijia will know and will be happy to tell me. This devil does not look like he is here to talk.

At first I ignore the approaching devil, but he comes directly for me where I am striking my rock. It is a much scored and slightly damaged rock by now, but still strong and defiant. From his belt he draws a knife. It has a slight curve to it and looks so much like a claw, I would have sworn it was one if my memory didn't tell me a knife should be metal. Maybe my memory is wrong. Cautiously I step back. No matter what it is made of, the creature handling it is still much bigger and stronger than me.

To my surprise he just walks to the rock, looking at it, then at me, then back to the rock again. He waves at me to come over. Step by step I slowly come closer. When he appears to judge me close enough, he puts the claw-knife on a place on the rock and mimics it bouncing off. Then he turns to me again and motions me to come closer. Intrigued, I accede to his request. With an almost clawless finger he points at the spot. I take a look at it but don't see any difference from the rock around it.

He repeats the same gesture, but also mimics good strikes or the solid hits that do nothing. I can see the pattern easily with that last one, but the others not so much. After a almost half an hour, I feel compelled to break the silence.

“Why,” I ask him.

The devil looks at me with surprise. “Oh, you speak already? Not what I expected from a runt.” For a moment he pauses. “Then again, just the fact you're here trying to fix that should have told me something.”

I almost sigh. I have learned it is in the nature of those who consider themselves superior to me to always talk about themselves first, rather than answering a question directly, so I repeat myself. “Why,” I say, with some of my impatience showing.

“Don't be like that, I don't have to do this, you know. I'm only here until they let me out of this hellhole again.” As his face changes to show anger, he sort of growls back in his throat and then spits some saliva off to the side before turning back at me. “Might as well do something to pass the time.”

From where his saliva is stuck on another rock comes the sound of light sizzling, which gives me an idea to try of my own. Later, first things first.

Under the devil's guidance I start to strike the rock again. He is also commenting on my stance, balance and how I rotate my body and other strange things. I try to incorporate what he says without making it too obvious I'm doing so. After an hour or more, my front limbs can't take it any more and I take a break. Lying down feels about right now.

“How you know this?” I ask him as he sits on a boulder a short distance away, chewing something smelly he got from a pouch fastened on his belt, opposite of where his knife is.

“I work with the teams up top.” He waves a hand at the roof of the cavern. “You know, the ones that don't get summoned, or not yet at least.”

The devil man is an expressive speaker, waving his arms all over the place as he explains.

“We got them working at digging, as lumberjacks and any work where strong, tough bodies and sharp claws are useful and brains aren't exactly needed. Only one of them got itself killed and the chef said it was my fault so I'm down here until I'm done being punished.” After a quick glance at me he continues. “Don't worry about that, by the way, when you get out of here you go to one of the hunter training camps, learn to work in a group and stuff, not for the work groups.” He takes a deep breath. “In any case, I pride myself in knowing everything about what you buggers can do with your claws.”

He clearly expects an answer after that, so I give him a nod, which seems to satisfy him. It's been enough for today, but his assistance has been useful. In a pensive mood I try to find a place to relax. I hadn't thought of it, but if I and the others are kept down here because we're useful, it makes sense the group I saw when I first arrived would be made useful too.

The next day he is already waiting for me when I arrive and I have the pleasure of seeing his surprise at the group of swarmlings following me around.

“Well I'll be,” he begins, before shaking his head and starting over. “Did you bring some friends, little one?”

As answer I just stare at him for a while until he starts to fidget. “Kragol.”

“Kragol what?” He replies, clearly confused.

“Not small one. Kragol.” I decided on a new name a few nights ago.

“Sure, Kragol, not the strangest name I've heard.” With a shrug he looks around at the few dozen swarmlings of various shapes and sizes start to surround the small clearing we're in. “So, friends of yours?”

This time it's my turn to shrug. “They follow me places.”

When the devil draws his knife, some of the surrounding swarmlings shrink back and I smirk.

“Shall we get started, then? I don't know how long we can keep this from the keepers, so we better get to it.” Taking a flask from the inside of his cloak he takes a small sip which he works throughout all of his mouth before spitting it out. The closest swarmlings shrink back from the stench, even from where I am it's not pleasant.

Whatever the result of this will be, at least it's going to be interesting.