AR Chapter 501 (Patreon)

The days passed quickly, and I enjoyed the better relationship with my goddess that’d come as a result of our conversation. Though the conditions I’d presented to her, obviously, were unwelcome, she’d accepted them, and was willing to engage with me as what might be called something approaching equals. I didn’t even try to lie to myself and say that we were anything even approaching equal to each other, but having seen my resolve to do what was best for my people, even if I had to cross her, it surely hadn’t been very difficult for the goddess to realize I was a much better stubborn ally than a dead enemy who would poison the well as I died.

“I have a new robe for you,” Sybil said as I returned to our home after spending time with Arwa and the other wolfstags. After they saved my life in the final moments of the battle against the Misti Hawar, I’d realized how much I neglected them for the past years. Arwa especially enjoyed my presence, staying close to me whenever possible. It was strange for me to see her aging, especially as she started to go slightly gray in the muzzle.

“How is this one different from what I’ve already got?” I asked as I walked past Sybil into the bathroom. A series of clay pots were already there, prepared for me, each one full of sand and held over a fire. We hadn’t yet figured out a way to create an entire immersion bath that stayed warm, but like this, I could warm up my bath to my liking without pulling one of our precious magical soldiers away from their duties every day. It was a wonderful innovation that’d been made, and was being instituted all around the city for others to enjoy.

“The violet dye has been completed to my satisfaction. Now, it does not fade, and this will be your official color. That paired with the charcoal pants will be your uniform, so to speak.”

“Something else to help others see that we’re a civilization?” I asked, pouring three of the pots straight into the sand bath without feeling the temperature anywhere. I overlaid my thermal vision to watch to see if the bath was the right temperature as I took a stick and mixed the sands together. The bath’s colors changed from a cool purple to a weak green, and I poured two more pots of hot red sand in as I cycled out more sand into the now empty pots to warm it up for my leisure.

“Exactly.”

“In that same vein,” I asked, stripping off my clothes as the sands reached my desired temperature, “how have communications with the Union been?”

“They continue to be polite whilst providing no information,” she answered as she brought handfuls of sand to the base of my neck, where my larger head frills shrunk to only a few inches tall along my spine from my shoulders down. She scrubbed along my neck and I rumbled in pleasure. “They seem to wish to see in what way we will deal with the egg destroyers before they give any advice, information, or further contacts.”

“Not a bad approach, even as I hate to be subjected to it,” I granted. I turned and nuzzled her hand before I slipped down deeper into the sand. Once everything but my head was buried, I drew on my sonilphon and pulsed my magic to force the sand to scrub me. I sighed contentedly as I looked up at Sybil. She knew what I was asking for without saying anything, and she strode over to the side of the room, collected another two pots, and poured them onto the sands.

“The ants probably don’t have much information for us no matter what we do. They aren’t concerned with the surface. We aren’t too far from the Colonies becoming more active, are we?” I confirmed as the sands got to the point that they were just the right temperature, teetering on the side of too hot.

“Joral estimates two weeks before the Royals might begin to send a communication,” she confirmed.

“If that’s the case, postpone the expedition to the north. We’ve reestablished contact with Tala, that’s enough for now. The thickfeather migration back south to the Misti Hawar lands shouldn’t be too far off either, so the wyrms will be especially active. If the Colonies, contrary to what we expect, become vengeful, we can’t have the expedition trapped between ants actively searching for them and the wyrms on the other side.”

Sybil didn’t respond verbally, and instead moved onto the next subject. “The few scouts we’ve sent to the eastern shores have seen more boats than before. There is a stark difference in the build materials and structure, so they’re reasonably certain that it is not an increased level of activity from the Union but instead the appearance of another nation.”

“There’s no way it’s the indlovu, right?” I confirmed.

“The vessels were not close enough to perfectly confirm their size, however, the estimation is that even a Keel would struggle to fit on board, much less an indlovu.”

“Moonchildren or Sunkindred?” I wondered aloud. “They never seemed to care to sail, but, then again, we weren’t asking them if they liked boats.”

“There is no way to say.” Sybil didn’t seem to care to entertain idle wondering. It didn’t take me by surprise, and she continued, “As it was a scouting vessel, we can assume that the inhabitants of the ships were able to see our people in turn. There is a potential for enemy approach, though any staging ground coming from the ocean would have to brave the wyrms’ hunting ground or come from the opposite side of the Shandise.”

“And how goes our relay system to the peaks and the opposite side of the mountain range? I know that much of this is still new and experimental.”

“It is progressing, but it has yet to progress to a point that it could even be considered moderately functional, much less valuable.”

“So, given the usual Sybil exacting standards, we’re able to communicate rudimentary signals in a time faster than running it, but not at the projected level of efficiency?” I spoke teasingly, and she whipped her tail against my shoulder in teasing frustration in response.

“You are not far off the mark. However, more concerning is the inconsistency in the clarity of messaging. There have been multiple instances in which the message being sent along has become hopelessly garbled in the transit between even three relay stations. We are a long way yet away from what we need this communication system to be. For simple messages, such as danger or asking for help, the method yet functions.”

“You’ll figure it out,” I said, smiling up at her. She started to say something else, to continue speaking business, but I reached up, grabbed her by the ankle, and pulled her into the bath with me. Both of us knew what my intentions were as I did so, and as she didn’t disagree with my “distraction,” I happily took her into my arms, enjoying the warmth of the bath before we inevitably exited it in an attempt to create another clutch of Keel children.