As I left the spawnlings to the “tender” care of my children, I finally let myself think about why this new [Quest] worried me. It was a repeat. That in and of itself wasn’t worrying, but that the ways to grow seemed to be limiting themselves was. I couldn’t help but ask the [System] if this was a portent of negative change for my future growth. The response was only slightly better than the usual [The Administrator has deemed it unnecessary to divulge that information…]

[Quest given growth is dependent upon evolutionary restrictions, and will progress according to the genetic predispositions of your evolutionary stage.]

So… maybe?

No response. I sighed and went back to the swarm and began working to continue smoothing relations between the two swarms that were now melding.

The next morning, we made our way back to the waiting kamory with our newly upsized swarm in tow. Mpitar put on a stoic face as we made our appearance, but couldn’t hide his nervousness when the number of keelish appearing from the surrounding trees continued to increase past one hundred. When our numbers surpassed three hundred, he began to reign in his visible emotions, and when all nearly five hundred of us were there in front of him, Mpitar was able to control his expression, while the rest of his kamory kept shifting their weight and only barely keeping from shifting into battle-ready positions.

I casually approached Mpitar and asked, “Is there somewhere specific you would like us to begin our hunt?”

Only faintly I noted the grinding of his teeth before the terse answer, “We’re moving in that direction. We’ll meet them after we begin today’s travel tonight.”

I smiled politely, “Sounds good.” before turning to Took. “Take a full hunting pack with you from our original swarm, and twice as many of the newcomers. Hunt as many as you can in that direction. The more impressive, the better.”

Took nodded, and I wasn’t sure if it was in response to my petty instructions or her own displeasure with these Moonchildren, but she smirked as she rounded up about seventy keelish and trotted into the distance. I could hear Silf and Joral barking commands at the newcomers and insulting their every mistake and slow reaction, and I was sure that it was going to be alright as we had this upcoming week for Sybil to use her magic to counteract and adjust the effects of Farahlia’s magic.

…

The journey to the boundary of the Wilds, the Sheer Pass, was longer than the originally planned ten days in total. With the addition of the spawnlings who, despite their willingness, needed accommodation to allow for their size and health, the trip ended up taking twelve days. In those days, I finally completed my [Skill] evolution of [Improved Vision] to [Raptor’s Eyes], a [Skill] that enabled both of my vision’s clarity and field to expand. It was a Nievtala-given blessing to finally be able to use my heat vision, after all this journeying in the dark with gimped visibility.

Took was progressing quickly with many of the newest members of the swarm, and made at least one hunting trip a day, with no more than two “gummies” to one “fang” (gummies being those who hadn’t yet earned their teeth, a fang one who had cut their teeth on the foe). The gummies were quickly growing better the longer they spent without having their minds warped by Farahlia, and Sybil was constantly exhausting her magic to counteract all the remaining, powerful influence left by the ex-Alpha’s lust-amplifying magic. In fact, Sybil was so overworked that Shemira was finally being assigned work, and was quickly proving herself to be a diligent, intelligent worker.

The triplets and their pack were working the spawnlings hard, and the initially reticent and distrusting spawnlings were quickly settled into a new system. Initially, they all resisted and resented any commands or assignments, but the trio’s lieutenants, especially Trai and Foult, (Foire’s children) beat into them the need to obey authority. It wasn’t quite beatings that were doled out, but a tail’s smack to the back of an unexpecting head punctuated the commands sufficiently for the spawnlings to begin truly listening to the commands issued by their seniors. The spawnlings actually were making great progress, especially under Iituli’s magical tutelage, and they all seemed quite taken with the idea of becoming magically inclined themselves.

On the other hand, Isnanna had begun developing a relationship with a couple of the Moonchildren, she had almost become trilingual at this point, learning enough of the common tongue to communicate, and various basic phrases in the Moonchildren’s tongue, Fitendra. She laughed with them, and let me know that the main reason the Mpitar was so hostile to us was that one of his old friends was killed in our fight for fahvalo status. Apparently, a couple of the other Moonchildren were upset with him about this, since he was openly disregarding the ancient ways, but a majority of this kamory was more progressively minded than most, so these traditionally minded individuals kept quiet about their insubordinate thoughts.

At the knowledge of this, I approached Mpitar just a day out of the Sheer Pass.

“Do you still want that fight?”

He didn’t even look at me as he responded. “I never did. There is nothing to gain: If I win, everything remains the same, except you may lose influence, and you seem to be the best option for your… people’s” the word seemed to cost him something, “leader. If I lose, I lose face and influence. There is no benefit for me.”

“A surprisingly intelligent and premeditated answer.” I trailed off for a couple of steps, but just as he began to lengthen his stride and attempt to gain some space on me, I called out, “Do you acknowledge me as fahvalo?”

Mpitar stopped in his tracks, literally bristling but still not looking at me. “You do not want the answer to that question.”

I smiled. “I think I do. Do you consider the word of Bloodpriestess Ana to be correct? Should I be acknowledged to be fahvalo to you, the Moonchildren?”

As he turned, slowly, I wondered if maybe I’d pushed him too far. There was a glint of the desire for violence in the Mpitar’s too-large eyes as he spoke, “Bloodpriestess Ana considers you to be fahvalo, embodying the concept of desperation. Right now, you seem to be embodying the concept of pride, one you need to abandon in desperation. Do you still want the answer to your question?”

My smirk extended. “I am desperate for validation, desperate to know that others in the Moonchildren agree with the one who has vouched for me. Am I wrong to embody another aspect of the same concept?”

His reply was an angry hissed whisper. “I acknowledge you as fahvalo.” A barking, coughing call sounded, and his kamory gathered around him before all them ascended into the trees and stayed arboreal for the next day.

Sybil’s voice came from behind me, “I don’t see why that was necessary.”

“Strictly speaking… it wasn’t. I just couldn’t stand his attitude.”

A slow nod. “Perhaps a wise choice. Perhaps not. Only time will tell.”

I grudgingly nodded. “One more day, they say. I don’t think this will matter longer than that.”

“Perhaps.”

…

A day later, the jungle thinned out around us, and in the distance I could see two parallel mountain ranges. Above me came Mpitar’s voice.

“We have escorted you to the edge of our lands. If we find you here without welcome again, there will almost certainly be consequences.” And without another word, the faint sound of the kamory’s retreat was all that we heard or saw of the presence of the Moonchildren.