The setsulah, led by Ammon’sil, pooled their thoughts, allowed their mana to flow together before they collectively wove their spell and brought it back, laying it over their eyes. With their senses overlaid, the ka’armodo accepted the stimuli they provided and fed his own back into the collective. Each of them shifted in place as the ant army in front of them blazed with a richness of energy that they had not expected to see. More than that, there were ebbs and flows that should not be. The big one at the front, there was something… odd. Rassan’tep concentrated hard, and even then, he could just barely grasp the edges of that strange eddy, a curious ripple in the fabric.
[Release.]
The spell was allowed to unravel, and the seven of them contemplated what they had seen.
[Speak your thoughts,] he invited his bond servants. [Do not stand on ceremony.]
Ammon’sil spoke first, as was his right.
[There are more than we expected, and they are more highly evolved than anticipated. This force is not to be underestimated.]
[The tier six has a core bursting with energy. Should it evolve again, it may even develop to the Mythic stage,] Rapsep’sil, wife of Ammon’sil, spoke next.
[A possibility exists that we may not be able to overcome them,] Chahan’sep spoke next, the surprise evident in the movement of his thoughts. [There is more to this colony than perhaps we expected.]
[The others may not see as clearly as we have. I believe they may still think us to be a vastly superior force. It may be wise to consider retreat,] the youngest, Yuwan’sil said, which caused the others to stare at her for her impudence.
[Peace,] the powerful mind of Rassan’tep rumbled. [I asked that you speak your thoughts, did I not?]
[You did, Old One,] Ammon’sil replied.
[Young Yuwan may well have the right of it. There is a chance we are outmatched here, which I did not foresee. There is also a strong possibility the others will not arrive at this assessment, or ignore it even if they have. This is the brash attitude of the young, and it should not surprise us. How can we expect them to know better? They have but a mere century of life behind them.]
The old ka’armodo considered for a time.
To an outsider, the standoff between the two forces, still over a kilometre apart, would have looked bizarre. Neither side moved. Not a muscle, or a twitch. The insects, as was their way, stood in perfect ranks, motionless, as if carved from stone. Likewise, the ka’armodo, with the patience born of their long-lived nature and their reptilian ancestry, did not stir, waiting and watching in perfect silence as their elder contemplated his course of action.
[We have been given a task by the Mahaan, so we shall carry it out,] he declared at last. [I will speak with the others and see what their appetite is like.]
He withdrew his thoughts from the connection he shared with his bondservants and expanded a bridge toward the other ka’armodo, who quickly latched onto the mana weave. Communicating via thought was so much faster than other methods, allowing them to both analyse their foe and coordinate themselves.
[We have taken a measure of our opponent. They stand between us and the garden that we have been ordered to destroy, and it does not appear as though they will let us pass through easily. What are your thoughts?]
Generally, the next oldest would be the one to respond, but given that this war party was formed of adolescents and young adults, the hierarchy wasn’t clear. As a result, dozens of minds leapt forward at once, creating a clamour as they competed with each other.
[These weak monsters shall be swept aside!]
[How can they think to compete with us?]
[We must obliterate them to send a message!]
[I believe some level of caution may be required…]
The final voice, a young female, was immediately piled in on as the others decried her perceived cowardice and lack of determination.
[These insect monsters have cowered before us for weeks. Now that we arrive in force, they believe they can stand up to us? They shall be crushed beneath our claws, their attacks will brush off my scales like grains of sand. We should assault them immediately and rout them before we torch the garden.]
The Old One blinked slowly. Such a course of action would result in a resounding defeat. The ka’armodo were large and powerful creatures, each weighing tons, yet they were ill-suited for massed combat. In short skirmishes, they could throw their weight around and utilise their poisonous bites to great effect, but against more than a hundred times their number? They would be surrounded and picked apart, throwing away their greatest advantage, their magical superiority. Rassan’tep was tempted to show his teeth in contempt but managed to restrain himself. He wasn’t young anymore. Such a display was better left for the impetuous and foolish.
Still, this attitude gained much support amongst the youth ,and they stirred, as if contemplating rushing forth at this moment without waiting for his order. An unthinkable course.
[You’re too hot-blooded,] he rebuked them and could feel the young minds recoil at this stinging insult.
Such a thing to say to a reptile… yet they deserved it. Charging into the enemy? Such foolishness.
[We are not here to fight ants, we are here to destroy the garden. Ranged bombardment. Form teams of five and prepare to arc your spells over the insects. You have two minutes; begin now.]
Separately, he reached out to the poor female who had been rebuffed by the others for her caution.
[You have the right of it. I will commend your insight when we return.]
He didn’t bother trying to correct the others on their misjudgement. They wouldn’t listen to him, regardless of his standing or age; only experience would teach them, so that was what he would provide.
71. Rising Sands, Part 3
Life without the Eldest to guide has been difficult for the Colony. They sleep, a deserved rest to be sure, and in the meantime, we have had to adjust, to overcome the challenges that Pangera presents to us without our wisest councillor and most farseeing leader. It has been like growing up for the Colony, in many ways. No longer were we able to rely on someone to guide our destiny; instead, we had to collectively decide it for ourselves. Perhaps this was the intention of the Eldest all along, but only now that they sleep are we truly able to break away from this dependence.
I hope they are proud of us for what we have done. I believe they will understand, when the time comes.
In a few scant minutes, the ka’armodo and setsulah had gone to work, taking a commanding hold over the mana around them and drawing it in to form intricate weaves of magic. For every ka’armodo, there were at least two bondservants, which meant each team contained at least fifteen minds, pooling their mental resources to craft the great siege spells they would launch to destroy the budding garden of the Mother Tree.
It was a difficult spell, one that required a powerful collective to craft. The Old One did not join any of the teams, instead he observed the reaction amongst the ants as he worked with his setsulah to craft his own artillery spell. One of the many benefits that age brought was the means necessary to support a greater number of bond servants, and Rassan’tep had been particularly choosy in selecting his setsulah. All of them were powerful mana manipulators with their own specialities. What’s more, they were excellent at cooperative spellcasting —everything a ka’armodo could possibly ask for. He was exceptionally proud of them.
As for the ants, they didn’t appear to have a strong reaction at all, which surprised him. There was almost no chance they were unaware of the spells being woven so close to them, as most of the teams were putting no effort at all into concealing their work, as if daring the monsters to do something about it. As he watched, his vision enhanced, and he could see the ants still stood at attention in neatly ordered rows.