You have become as comfortable in the dark as you are in the light. Your Skills have improved, along with your Levels, and you have each proven you are dedicated to our ways. I ask you one final time: do you wish to end your training? Do you wish to never return to this place?
They did not speak, and the ant dipped her antennae in respect.
Then come and take your rest.
The ant walked from the chamber and the three human youths hesitated. They had never left this single chamber within the sanctum in all the nights they’d been there. Were they supposed to follow? The three looked to each other for support and finally summoned the courage to step forward. The tunnels were winding and long, yet they followed easily, their movements flowing, their limbs suffused with almost inhuman strength and agility.
Tunnels eventually gave way to corridors of carved stone, which changed to vaunted halls, which led to a grand temple. The ants were everywhere now, along the walls, the ceiling, alongside them on the ground. Even so, they were able to follow the nameless one without losing her in the crowd of nearly identical creatures. They could find her anywhere. The temple was strange, the floor carved into a giant circle divided into eight massive segments, each filled with ants at rest.
The nameless one led them outside the great circle until they and a host of ants stood just outside the segment, waiting. Soon, all the still figures on this section of floor began to stir, stretching, and then leaving from the outer edge of the circle. Once the segment was empty, they began to shuffle forward as an ant signed to each member as they passed. Eventually, the three children reached the front, and the figure turned to them.
Good work, nameless ones. Please take your deserved rest, as the Eldest intended, she signed.
The three children choked up instantly, though they did not know why. Emilia couldn’t say which was the first to sob, perhaps Allison, or Trean, or even herself, but once they did, all three began to openly cry, their wailing the first sound to ever be heard within the heart of the Sanctum. As they wept, the ants continued to march onto the segment, and as they did, each of them stopped to embrace the three, a leg thrown around them to press their shaking bodies against hard carapace, an antenna reaching down to gently pat their heads. After a time, the nameless one gathered them and led them onto the circle where they found three soft, comfortable beds had been erected for them.
Sleep, nameless ones. You are one of us now, and we will never abandon you.
Exhausted and drained, the three folded themselves into the warm blankets and fluffy pillows they’d been given and slept more deeply and rested more thoroughly than they ever had before.
Emilia awoke in the orphanage, a soft smile on her lips and gladness suffusing her soul. She rolled out of bed and began to perform her regular morning chores, assisting the little ones to prepare themselves for the day while Maria prepared breakfast downstairs. When she arrived at the table, Maria took her to one side.
“Is everything alright, Emilia?” the old woman asked. “I know you’ve been busy with your new apprenticeship and all, but you just seem so much more quiet than you used to. I hardly hear you make a sound these days.”
Emilia looked up into the familiar face of their caretaker and noticed something.
“You look tired, Maria,” she said, reaching out with one hand to touch her on the arm. “Are you getting proper sleep?”
64. Raised in the Shadow, Part 3
No matter how much he did, there was always more to do, Beyn lamented as he faced down a desk full of paperwork. Whoever managed to start creating paper in Renewal was both a blessing and a curse in the priest’s opinion. It was so much easier to organise things now, but the sheer number of documents he had to deal with was almost dizzying. Or perhaps that was just the mana deprivation…
The priest raised a hand to his temple and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the moment to pass. Immediately, an aide was at his elbow.
“Are you alright, head priest?” he asked.
“It is nothing.” Beyn waved him away. “I simply need to return to the Dungeon. I am not currently acclimated to the surface, and it is taking a toll on me.”
“Perhaps you should rest,” his aide encouraged him. “You’ve been working for days now.”
Beyn frowned.
“I have little choice. The work must get done, and I have to do it before I return below ground. I wish it were otherwise, but these projects require my attention, and they shall have it.”
His brothers and sisters in the faith had expanded to the point where they had become a church in the truest sense of the word. The faithful flocked to the cathedral to hear their words, the ranks of the antspeakers grew every day, and the donations the people provided, despite being asked not to, had to be diverted to worthy causes. The orphanage needed more funding and the cathedral would provide. So many poor children were left without families after the disaster that it broke Beyn’s heart.
When the Colony learned that these children were without family, food had begun to arrive on the orphanage doorstep within the hour, grown fresh in the fields below. Diplomant had been openly confused at the concept. Although the ants intellectually understood that every human was not part of the same family, it still didn’t make sense to them on a fundamental level. Since all the people of Renewal lived together in harmony, then they were one Colony, surely? And if they were one Colony, then they were family. That is only right!
Just another way in which they teach us, Beyn thought.
Still, the forms in front of him had to be dealt with. The next one came to his hand, and he forced his tired eyes to focus.
“Mission to the farming communities,” he read aloud before diving into the document.
More and more smaller villages were being established across the former territory of Liria and even extending into the border kingdoms. The ants had even expanded to the site of the former capital and established a mighty hill there, sweeping aside the rubble and destruction Garralosh left behind in a matter of weeks. Wherever the ants went, the people were sure to follow, and a small community had left to establish a new steading there, unafraid of the Dungeon entrance that the Colony now guarded.
This was wonderful, of course. As the people spread, so too did the new way, which lifted his heart and nourished his soul. Yet these far-flung communities were no longer able to attend the cathedral, could no longer be nourished by the teachings of the Colony, which was a tragedy. He skimmed the proposal. Sister Yowyn had gathered a team of ten who were willing to go on a two-month mission to the villages, preaching and assisting the people in whatever way they could.
Beyn brushed a tear from his eye. Truly, wherever there was a need, his brothers and sisters would step forward without hesitation. Their hearts were so pure they shone like mirror glass. This endeavour must be approved. Things would grow more difficult for them here in Renewal and within the Dungeon beneath with ten of their number away, but they would rally together as they always did. The work would get done.
One matter dealt with, another followed as Beyn drew the next paper from the stack and began to read. He worked long into the night, long after his aide had left and the town had grown quiet. A solitary lamp was the only source of light in the office in which he worked at the rear of the cathedral. Distantly, he could hear the hum and mutter of the few souls still within the nave offering their devotions to the Colony, but no other sound reached his ears as he continued to work.