Odren, the Father of Monsters, oldest and first amongst the Ancients, we beseech thee.

Grant us freedom from the prison that binds us.

Preserve us from the creations of your power.

Watch over and protect us with your omnipresent sight.

Save us from ourselves.

- Prayer of the Cult of Origin

Lost in my own thoughts, the next few hours blow past without me really noticing. The Colony finished setting everything up, setsulah arkesh came and haggled over everything, mostly the jewellery, also the end table, then it was time to pack up again.

The only thing that really jolted me out of my thoughts was when the table in question was eventually purchased. As the winning setsulah claimed the prize on behalf of his ka’armodo, he decided to open the drawers to make a full inspection of the purchase, only to recoil in surprise when a demon sprang loose.

Uncoiling himself and leaping in one smooth motion, Odin bellowed his fury, blade arms flashing with murderous red light.

[Anthony! I’m coming for your head!]

I swatted him out of the air with my mandibles.

[That’s where you ended up? I could have sworn you were stowed in a cabinet.]

Apologies were made to the client, of course, and Odin was rounded up without any further incident, which was great.

With that, our stay on the mountain home of the ka’armodo, Desert Basin, has come to an end. Oddly enough, without any real incidents. Almost boring, in the end.

No, Anthony! Don’t think that way! Expecting everything that happens to turn into an unmitigated disaster in one form or another is not a healthy way to live your life!

Honestly, I don’t know what I expected to happen, but the revelations from Rassan’tep should be enough to fulfil the excitement quota. I don’t even know what it means for me, this so-called Truth. Is there an option where I become the twentieth Ancient, then tell the others to get stuffed? I’m guessing in that case they would band together to put me down and try and raise up another one.

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Maybe I find Odren… and bite his leg until he releases me from the Call? Perhaps the best solution is that I help raise another monster to the position of Ancient, then there would be no reason to keep this hook in my guts.

But… that would only be viable if I was certain the Ancients escaping wouldn’t destroy the planet. This is too much for my poor aching brains, I’m not built to worry about things this important.

At the same time, I don’t want to offload all of these concerns to the Council until I know more. There’s nothing they can do about any of this in the present moment, and the Colony has enough things to worry about. Securing territory, bulking up our defences, training more young, securing these deals.

The cores that flow from this trade will be a wonderful supplement to our own harvesting efforts, ensuring more young ants can grow and evolve with fully enhanced cores.

Then we can see about fixing the fifth stratum.

With our business concluded, there’s nothing to do but get our trade fleet back on the water. The nest is torn down in short order and the column of ants once again marches through the port streets, tons and tons of ant goods gripped in powerful soldier mandibles.

Before long, every one of my siblings is once again stuffed below decks and I am back in place, balanced on the deck of the large, wide tub while the brathian crew works around me. There’s a lot that goes into getting a ship like this to move the way they want it to, even after magic gets involved. Lots of ropes and pulleys, climbing, knots and all sorts of other stuff that makes no sense to me.

The main thing I need to focus on is not slapping any of the crew with my antennae accidentally. And apologising to Odin, of course.

[Look. I told them to look in every cabinet, which was clearly my mistake. I had no idea you were in the end table!]

[I have unleashed rivers of blood for lesser insults than this! My anger isn’t quenched!]

He wriggles violently, attempting to lash out, but suspended above my head in his own little gravity well, there isn’t much he can do.

[I said I was sorry, now come on, let it go. We are out on the water, sailing! Great big adventure! Isn’t that exciting?!]

[What excites me is BLOOD!]

[Bloody good times, exactly! We’re headed off to the kingdom of the Golgari, that should be fun, right? Lots of big ol’ stone people, living in a big ol’ stone mountain? Sound interesting?]

[No!]

[They also hate our guts and want to kill all of the ants.]

[... That's a little better.]

Honestly, this is the one I’m most worried about. The Colony and the ka’armodo have been rattling the sabres for ages, but outright warfare hasn’t broken out. Against the golgari? They aided the Legion in their siege, the very same Legion that is ominously sailing over our right shoulder, metaphorically speaking, right now.

Were it not fortuitous timing and my siblings punching well above their weight, we would have been wiped out in the conflict. The ants haven’t forgotten, and I’m sure the golgari aren’t pleased they were beaten by an upstart monster nest. They seem proud to a fault.

[Hopefully, it doesn’t all go bad,] I say to Odin.

[You don’t sound convinced.]

I’m not.