To the most Honorable Lord Ursten,

In reply to your request for information on the creatures known as 'swarmlings' for a project you do not wish to disclose, I will provide you with only the information I wish to share. That is to not name these creatures swarmlings to any sage, wiseman or one of those newfangled researchers of any repute. The name for their species is 'senilimed', as any could have told you if they hadn't been insulted by your missive. Whichever peasant first named them 'swarm' is guilty of a heinous crime and the blasted creatures liked it so much it's become the standard now. They are not an actual swarm, they are not some kind of insect variant or hive. They're social egg-laying animals living in a pack with an extreme caste system who prefer to make their homes in burrows or caves, that is all there is to it.

- short letter from an unknown sage

While Mari probably wants me to rush outside and do as I'm instructed, I take my time to explore the dungeon. It has changed. Not the corridors or caves or anything, but it feels different. Before, even further away from the core, that feeling of 'dungeon' was flowing past me in a rush. Now it feels like there is still some flow, but calmer and steadier. Was it a growth spurt? If it's a living thing, that would make sense.

Exploring the path leading outside shows more intriguing changes. The main tunnels have something flow from outside to the inside while the smaller tunnels that wind around them have the dungeon energy flow from inside to the outside. Where the tunnels reach their highest point, sometimes the rock turns to densely packed dirt. Those places are the most interesting as the dirt feels like it's absorbing some of the dungeon-stuff. Plants flourish, though mostly lichen and moss since it's still underground, and so do the insects scurrying about. I eat some of them and some of the dirt to confirm that they taste different too.

I have no clue what makes the dungeon feel like the dungeon and I have no clue what it does with all the different energies, tunnels or what it wants and needs. Nor do I understand why other creatures react to it like they do, aside from what I've been told and what is obvious. They are drawn to it and change, much like how I change when I'm summoned, but slower.

While chewing on one of the bigger beetles that actually bit me hard enough for me to feel it, I bite down on something hard. Worming it out of my mouth with my tongue I drop it on the ground. It's a tiny light brown crystal, smaller than a pebble, maybe only as big as a few grains of dirt clumping together. It smells like beetle and dungeon. It looks and feels vaguely like the crystal Tarvinder showed me as mine. I can't remember everything he told me about them. Should I eat it? I'm sure Tarvinder would want me to bring it back.

My main concern is the fact that it's crystal. Kind of like glass and the glass I swallowed earlier is making a slow and uncomfortable way down my body. I will have to remember to not eat glass in my actual body. After a moment longer, I scoop it up with my tongue and swallow. The damage is already done, so a little extra won't hurt is what I tell myself. After a short crunch, I swallow the tiny shards. Nothing strange happens, so I'm probably safe.

Even with the flows severely reduced in intensity, I can still orient myself in the direction of the exit and the core. Heading for the former at a brisk speed without neglecting to pay attention to my surroundings is a slight challenge. I still have a tendency to focus on either moving or observing. The coming days may provide me with the training I want for this.

The path is not the same as last time. Tiny openings I and Mari had to manoeuvrer through before are wider and larger. A human would still find it a bit of a challenge, but this is nothing to me. Aside from the general widening and heightening, nothing much has changed and the place still looks like a natural cave for the most part. It's still quite lifeless, though some normal lizards, bats and other creatures have moved in since last time.

The strangest sensation occurs as I approach the opening to the outside world. It feels like the dungeon is retreating. I stop to get a better reading on the sensation and truly, the feeling of the dungeon is slowly but surely fading, pulling back into the depths. If the only purpose was to punch through to the outside, it would make sense. It does make me wonder what it will do if this cave ever gets blocked. Something to think about when it happens, not now.

The exit is still the same, ending at the canyon. There is still no way to cross, left and right show nothing of interest and down is the wrong direction. That leaves one option, up. The rock is like any other rock face and easy for me to climb. It's still a long way up, so no need to rush and waste energy. As I keep my body close to the wall of rock, small irregularities pass me by. The rock is smooth as glass, here and there, in irregular patches. I can see where it has broken off in places. It looks to have been a layer of several centimetres thick. Tarvinder probably knows about it, so I file it away as something to ask him when I have the chance and if I remember.

The most annoying part of the climb is the wind. By all rights, there shouldn't be as much or even any wind, but there is. And it's making more noise than it should too. When I turn my head I can see the other side of the chasm is littered with cave openings. This side has its share too, though it's hard to get an accurate idea of how many. If it's just as much, it'd mean the rock here is riddled with bigger and smaller holes. I bet a colony would find a good place to settle here.

However, the sounds are coming from those caves too, or so my ears tell me. Whistling, moaning, thrumming and a whole host of different sounds that sound to big for anything else I've found in the caves so far. It's making me nervous, which is not a good frame of mind to climb a rock wall. A piercing wail startles me and I miss my next grip. Instead of wrapping and around a little ledge, my claws skitter off one of the glassy surfaces.

An inborn reflex takes over and I throw my back-spikes out and to the sides, waving them around for balance. They're not wings, though, and don't do anything to help. It takes mere moments to regain my calm and stop my panicky flailing around. My heart is still racing when I reach for the next claw-hold. The top isn't far. The closer I get to it, the wider the canyon gets until I start to feel exposed. The far wall was never any real protection, but now creatures in the sky could see me. My dark colors make me somewhat harder to see, I hope.

Upon reaching the top I slowly peek over the edge. In front of me the ground rises, slowly at first, to a mountain peak. Patches of grass dot a rocky meadow. Here and there low growing bushes cling to the ground. It looks desolate and empty. My sense of smell tells a different story. A few different types of rodents call the area their home. One type of canine and some kind of bird are the predators who hunt them and a scent I can't place smells like the local scavenger. There are no sounds close by, but from behind me I can hear the distant cries from other animals. I try to look in that direction, expecting to see a valley, but whatever is there is still hidden from sight by the chasm walls.

I feel the most interesting bit to explore is behind me. Dragging myself out in the open, I take a quick look around. No way to cross, not that I expected anything. From here, the chasm does look different. Large rock formations are simply split in two with a sharpness that is too neat to be natural. Something happened here, something that gouged this canyon into the side of a mountain and turned the walls of the chasm into something resembling glass.

A faint sound triggers my body into a reaction before I even have time to think. Throwing myself to the side all I hear is a rush of air before pain runs up the side of my rear leg. Feathers blind me as a wing slaps me in the face, then I'm dragged off by the injured limb. Again I flail uselessly with the spikes on my back. Being held by one rear limb, moving at a great speed and, worse, I can feel the grip on my limb slowly sliding, tracing lines of pain down the lower part. Below me is the chasm, but the opposite side is coming closer and closer.

I take a quick look to identify my attacker. A brown and white winged bird with a vicious beak, clearly a bird of prey. Its wingspan is two or three times as wide as I am long. One claw holds me in a slipping grip while the other lazily tries to get a better hold on me. Most of the bird's attention is on flying. A slight change in position warns me it is now or never. I don't know what it will do, but it surely is not good for me. The only thing to reach far enough is my tail. The blade-like tip doesn't cause a bit injury on the leg holding me, but it does cause its grip to lose its final hold on me.

Tumbling through the air, I twist like so to make sure I land on my claws and not on my back or head. I would not have guessed my practice at jumping would come in handy like this, but I'll take it. The ground coming at me approaches too fast and too slow at the same time. I have time to think, time to plan, to land in a way to spare my injured limb and roll with the fall, hopefully avoiding any serious rocks. Time to tuck my back spikes close to my body and more or less lock them in place. They'll be safe there and act as a bit of protection. The sensation of speed is still there. I know I'm going faster than I should, even if it doesn't look like it right now.

I hit the ground with bone-jarring force and let the momentum take me off my feet. Rolling and bouncing down the terrain, all I can hope is to avoid serious injury. After I don't know how far I come to rest, tangled in some low bushes. Fuelled by anxiety I push myself further in hiding. Looking up, the bird is still flying around. It's probably looking for me. It knows I'm injured and where I am, but is likely loathe to dive into the bushes I'm hiding in. It gives me time to inspect the damage.

Nothing is broken, which is some good news. My rear limb may have been dislocated. While it's functioning well for now, if painful, it will certainly cause issues for a while. My natural recovery will take care of it sooner or later, but I better be careful with it. The rest of my limbs are intact, if a little battered and bruised. Some small cuts and bruises over the rest of my body sum everything up. Mostly I'm still dizzy and shaken from the tumble. I'll take a few hours to recover in the relative safety of this cluster of bushes, before I make my way further down the mountainside.

The sun is setting to my right when I decide on my time to move on. The bird has long gone, looking for different prey, but my body required rest. With the sun setting, I feel more secure about crossing the still mostly empty ground. There are some large boulders I can use for cover and some more areas with bushes like the one I'm hiding in, but by and all it's desolate. In the distance I can see trees in a valley, so that is my goal. I can see perfectly at night, I don't require sleep just yet and I can do several more days without water, even longer without food. I'm not going to let a bit of pain stop me from looking around. I'm also hoping the bird only hunts during the day.

When the sun has almost set I start on my journey. Keeping a steady but cautious pace allows me to be more aware of my surroundings. I am fortunate to be able to trust my body in situations like that, to some extend, but this was too close to my liking. Part of me tells me I can't die anyway, but another part of me reminds me things still hurt. Being killed by a big bird does not sound like something I would enjoy. Flying is high on my list of things I want to do, but not like this.

Thinking about what I could have done better keeps my mind a little distracted. When the creatures of the night start to stir, I focus only on hearing, smelling and seeing everything around me. Nothing bothers me. This high up the mountain, few large creatures wander and certainly nothing that is looking for a fight. I'm aware of a small group of canines that evade me like I evade them. Neither of us wants a confrontation.

The sky starts to light up by the time I reach the first low trees. Birdsong starts up all around. Hesitantly at first, but quickly growing in volume. I've reached my target, another too-green forest under a sky with only one sun. I'll take it anyway.