Chrysalis

Rassan'tep opened his eyes slowly. The warmth on his scales spread in waves through and penetrated deep into his muscles which nearly drove him back into rest, but the patient, still mind of his attendant helped focus his thoughts.

[What is it, Ammon'sil?]

[You have been asked to accompany an expedition, Old One.]

The great lizard blinked once, which was enough to cause his servant to prostrate himself immediately.

[I protested strongly against disturbing your rest, Old One, but the winds blew against me. The Mahaan has asked this of you personally.]

The words were digested is all things should be, with patience, as Ammon'sil remained pressed to the floor.

[There is no fault with you,] Rassan'tep said as he roused himself, shifting his legs to free them from the heated sand in which he had rested. [We must all serve the will of the Mahaan. Even if she is a young thing bȧrėly free from her egg.]

[I would not dare to say that she is unworthy to scrub your scales, Old One,] his setsulah replied from the ground.

[Rise now,] the kaarmodo commanded. [If we have been ordered to ȧssist, then ȧssist we shall. Gather the others and prepare my war garment. The sand bath can wait until our people have been served.]

Only now that he had been commanded did Ammon'sil rise and moved out the door, his steps smooth and languid despite his speed. As he awaited his attendants the Old One took deep slow breaths, his tongue flicking at the air as he gradually returned himself to wakefulness. By the time the setsulah returned, he had extracted himself fully from his bath and the six bonded servants immediately stepped forward.

Already rasped clean by the sand, his scales were polished and oiled before the ceremonial tapestries were laid over his back and neck. Next came the rings of gleaming gold around his legs along with the heavy, enchanted gorget that clasped around his neck. Bedecked in the finery that was deserved of a kaarmodo in its second century, the Old One held his forearms close his body as his servants did their work. Once all was ready, the six bowed low before he lowered himself to allow them onto his back. Only then did he step forward, exiting his temporary abode and entering the chaotic city of Bintran.

When he had made his way through the streets he found a gathering of his kind on the outskirts, the Mahaan herself in attendance. Rassan'tep approached, his arms clasped in front of him, before he roused the mana and connected himself to the bridge.

[Nice of you to join us, Old One,] the Mahaan said, eying him coldly.

He shifted his hands slightly, a pointed reminder that she was yet to grow the limbs as she had not reached her second century of life. Truly the Great Desert did not value this place if one so young had been placed in such a position of responsibility.

[Perhaps it is simply my age,] he replied and said no more, closing his eyes and resting, though he could feel his setsulah bristling on his back.

[Peace,] he said to them alone and they gradually relaxed once more.

[What of the ants?] another asked. [What if they seek to oppose us.]

[I care not,] the Mahaan replied, [sweep them aside and deal with the enemy.]

When no more was said, the Old One opened his eyes once more.

[Let us leave,] he said.

Altogether a dozen kaarmodo, each of them too young to have grown their full set of limbs, gathered together with their setsulah and pooled their minds together to create a disc of force that could carry them all. The coalesced mana lifted them from the plate and out over the cavernous expanse before lowering them to the ground before it disappeared.

[Which way?] Rassan'tep asked.

[To the east, Old One,] another replied.

With no need for excess words or actions, he led the young group across the plains. With their long legs, they ate up the ground quickly without using any skills and soon met up with two more groups of a similar size. Brief greetings were exchanged before they continued on their way. When he had considered things enough, Rassan'tep finally reached out to Ammon'sil, the most senior of his attendants.

[Tell me of these ants,] he commanded, [I had heard nothing of them when I retired to rest.]

[They originate in the second?]

[The first, I believe.]

[Unusual.]

Monsters from the first were generally inferior to those from the second, which made descending quite hard on them. Demons were born far more powerful than those from so high in the Dungeon. For them to be able to conquer two cities so quickly meant they must be highly unusual.

[They are intelligent to a high degree for such weak monsters, and several highly evolved specimens have been seen, as much as tier six, I believe. Other than this, I do not know, Old One.]

[This is sufficient. I thank you.]

More to ponder as his legs ate up the kilometres. The real question was, why the mother tree would bother expending resources to manifest herself here. Was it for the ants? Was she trying to open a new front in her conflict with his people? Bes they nip any potential problem in the bud. Sweep it away as the wind swept through the desert, erasing all traces.

Soon they had arrived at their destination. A lone scout sat waiting on a high rock and in the distance the Old One could see the still budding garden of the mother tree bursting forth from the dark plains.

All that stood between them was a sea of motionless insects.