With more time and a little assistance from one of the new spawnlings named Childra that could use rudimentary water magic, I finally got to see my new “brand” as I decided to call it. The mark was a pure white spear, pointed up and forward, and at the base was a strange little wiggly bit, something I wasn’t quite sure what it was until the [System], unprompted had informed me:

[The marking on your chest is the divine representation of the Goddess Nievtala’s domains: victory and conquest. The spear points ever onwards, towards the next conquest. The banner below the spear is representative of the nations and powers felled before the insatiable progress of Nievtala’s cause.]

It could be clearer to see, but I recognized the fact that it was a tattoo on scales, not exactly a combination leading to great depth of detail in artistic rendition. In a moment of what was either delusion or enlightenment, I decided to take up my own spear in response to my new decoration. When I held my spear again, it felt more comfortable in my hands and I subconsciously dropped into a battle-ready position. Nothing seemed to have changed, and a part of me wondered if it was simply a self-fulfilling mentality–that since I felt like I would probably be more comfortable with the weapon now, I actually would be.

Nonetheless, I decided to not let the spear out of my immediate grasp from now on, given that a goddess had branded me as her chosen and the spear was her divine symbol. I figured that a greater understanding and familiarity with the weapon would serve me well, even if it ended up being more of a sort of a religious icon than an actual weapon I utilized, but considering my previous life’s rudimentary training was built upon by this innate understanding, I was sure it would be a practical weapon.

As I began walking away, into the swarm, I heard Sybil begin speaking. “Something you need to do?”

“I… I feel like I need to look into Farahlia, see if there’s something that she’s trying behind the scenes.”

“Was it not just last night that you said that you generally trust her and her intentions?”

“Yes, just… something you said and a gut feeling, I guess.”

Sybil shrugged. “All right then. I’ll get some people on that as well.”

I smiled and began to walk away as I gently tapped Sybil with my tail. She joking nipped at it as I went, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of when she had mutilated herself to prove herself to Took all those months ago. Unthinking, I leaned down and gently, softly nipped at her tail where the scars remained, the bite quickly transitioning to a nuzzle. Without me realizing it, Sybil went completely still at my focus, her eyes searching for my own.

After a moment’s silence, I finally turned my gaze to my Gamma, my friend, my mate. “What was going through your mind when you did this?”

A shrug. “That I needed approval from Took to ensure I continued in your good graces. She mentioned the willingness to shed blood, and so I did so.”

“As I remember, you didn’t hesitate for even a moment.”

“You remember correctly.”

“How?”

“I am willing to do what is necessary to achieve my goals.” Sybil spoke plainly, as if it were the most average thing in the world to do, to permanently scar yourself for immediate recognition. A part of me, a part I wasn’t sure was all khatif, understood the mentality: be cruel to those who stand in your way, even if that which impeded your progress was a part of yourself. I was shook from my introspection by Sybil’s words. “If Farahlia is, in fact, planning something malicious, what do you plan to do? Can you do what is necessary to prevent her from stopping you from achieving your goals?”

With a deep breath, I gathered and steeled myself, realizing that my answer was honest. “If she’s turned away my tolerant hand, then she’ll die.”

…

For the next day, Sybil and I applied ourselves towards truly investigating everything we could find about Farahlia from her actions, who she hunted with, who she ate with, her children, her schedule, everything. I wished I had even a bone of subtlety in me in my own investigations, but I consoled myself by saying that my own actions acted as a smokescreen for Sybil’s efforts.

In the midst of this, it seemed the entirety of the swarm had things that they needed to talk to me about, from where exactly we were going to what to have for breakfast to who should hunt with who and so on. Even Shemira came up at one point, saying, “You should let Joral know that you’re proud of him and trust him. He’s been on eggshells since the last times that he’s taken initiative you’ve exploded on him.”

I couldn’t refute her words, and so I settled on letting Joral know about how I was glad he was growing into a good leader when I wasn’t so focused on knowing for sure if Farahlia was the forked tongue I was looking for. Instead of being able to take action on my own terms, however, I was forced into the conversation as Joral himself approached me.

“Um… Shemira says she talked to you? About–”

“Yes, she did, and she’s right. I trust you, and she was totally right.”

“Really? You think she’s right?”

“Of course. You’ve proven yourself smart, willing to take initiative, and capable. I’ve always thought that you’d be a great Alpha, once you were a little more polished. Now, you’ve got that polish. I’m proud of you and what you’ve done. I’m looking forward to what you can achieve moving forward.”

Joral stood up straight as I spoke, then nodded, proud and trying to hide it. “I’ll make sure to make you proud. I’ll never forget that.”

I rolled my eyes internally at the melodrama, then nodded to dismiss him as I continued my investigations.

After a day of learning nothing new, just that she was constantly flirty and apparently lusty while also not being much or a leader of her own merit, I was frustrated enough with my own efforts to ask Farahlia directly.

“What do you want?”

Immediately she sidled up next to me, trying to flick at me with her tail. “I want you to dominate me, Alpha.”

I snapped my tail out, firmly slapping her across the face, not hard enough to send her reeling, but enough to snap her out of her attempted seduction. My face was a picture of stone as I repeated myself, “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” Farahlia’s tone was sullen, lacking any of the demure flirtatiousness that constantly permeated her bearing.

“I mean, what do you want? I can’t imagine that the only thing you want to do in life is rut. It’s enjoyable, sure, but that is far from all that there is to a continued existence. So, what do you aspire to have, to do?”

“You didn’t need to slap me to ask that… Could it be that this is the kind of play that…” slowly, the flirt was edging back into her voice, but as I raised my tail threateningly again, the coquettish words slowly faded into nothing. She sighed, then continued. “I think that, at the core of it all, your Sybil and I have similar desires: to be safe, to be protected, and not to be owned by some bastard with more strength than he knows what to do with.”

I scoffed. “That seems pretty contrary to what you said when I defeated you in that duel.”

A shrug. “Didn’t go according to the plans I had. Instead of my magic, I decided to try the real way. A male who’s in love with rutting you is pretty easy to manipulate, so I was just hoping I could do that to you.”

“Makes enough sense. I’ve met some who are slaves to that.” I paused, then began the true questioning. “Do you plan on doing anything to weaken my control over the swarm?”

“Of course not. Not like I could anyways. A loser who doesn’t realize they’re beat is annoying to the extreme.”

“Do you feel like having me as an Alpha allows for your general wants to be provided for?”

A sigh. “Well, good enough. I do wish you’d take me at least as a sub-mate, give me that higher position, but I don’t think it will happen if I’m honest with myself.” A coy smile. “Unless…?”

I raised my tail again, with a slight smirk this time. Farahlia chuckled, ducked her head, and spoke, “Didn’t think so. So, I’m not a threat to your rule. Please…” her voice cracked briefly, “don’t kill me. A living loser is better than a dead rebel.”

I wasn’t sure… but I wasn’t so sure anymore about if Farahlia was the forked tongue.

Fork it.