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Chapter 9:

The Third Iteration

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On our arrival at the Chaurus Grotto, where Bentley was keeping an eye on things – Judas had left on his daily patrol of the cliffs – several of the newborns scuttled over to us, [curious] about the new people walking with their Queen.

The reactions of the College mages were very different.

Master Faralda stiffened and, in reflex, prepared a fire spell, which set Bentley on edge; knowing Skitter was both nearby and aware of our presence, I moved between the Chaurus and the mage, speaking sternly, "You have nothing to worry about, Miss Faralda. These little ones won't attack, but the Hunters will take offense if you do… as will I." And I smiled down at the little one from Frostflow, who rubbed himself against my right boot in [happiness], the feeling echoed through the little one's minds.

Happily, Faralda lowered her hand, though it was clearly hesitant; she still apologized, "Ah… forgive me, Miss Khepri. I've never seen so many Chaurus who didn't attack on sight," and she eyed Bentley warily before gazing curiously at the dark green boys and girls skittering about our feet.

Brelyna Maryon, on the other hand, let out a gleeful sound and removed a sketchpad from her bag, "Oh! They're so little!" she glanced at Bentley, who only gave her a brief glance before returning to watching the Dunmer girl's mentor; Brelyna smiled over at me, "Is it okay if I sketch them?"

"Of course!" I replied with a smile of my own, using my prosthetic arm to pick up the little one who'd been partly blinded by the Falmer; if the blasted creatures ever darkened my sight again, they would live long enough to regret their deeds against the Chaurus before I slew them.

Putting the thought aside, I ignored Bori and Companion Farkas' quiet conversation and beckoned to Farlada, who seemed a little overwhelmed by the tides of [curious] and [delighted] chitin swarming about my feet, "Don't be shy, now. They won't harm you," to emphasize this – and stop the little ones from tickling my legs – I scooped some of the wood shavings and snowberries from my bag pocket and scattered them closer to Brelyna. The young Chaurus chittered and scurried to the snack, Bentley moving closer to make sure none of them hurt each other.

"So they do eat wood," Faralda sounded amazed, which humored me. I'd explained, in brief, the diet and social structure of the Chaurus while we walked from my house, but to see it in person was clearly another matter entirely.

The Altmer woman noticed my quirked lip and approached with a sheepish smile, though it quickly turned to concern on seeing the young Chaurus on my wooden arm, "A scar?"

The scar in question was a narrow groove on the left side of the Chaurus' poor face, straight through the cluster of eyes on that side; the dear girl was still rambunctious, and clicked her mandibles in a [hello] as Faralda came close.

I ignored the woman's flinch and nodded, "Yes. Many of the poor things suffered under the Falmer's… attentions," was a nice way of putting what it. With her permission, I took Faralda's hesitant hand and guided it closer so she might feel the edges of the scar, warning, "Don't touch the scar itself. She's still healing, though she won't regain her eyes for a few molts yet."

The Elven woman was clearly becoming more overwhelmed by the moment, her gentle touch moving from the scar to the legs and body of the little girl, who turned over in my arm and batted at Faralda's questing fingers like a [playful] cat. A short, disbelieving laugh left the woman's lips before she spoke, "They're… not like I imagined, or like those I've faced in the past. Is this your doing? Are you controlling their actions?"

I shook my head the negative, smiling over at the playing little ones near Brelyna, who was multitasking, firing question after question at a slightly flustered Callidus without looking up from her sketchpad; Bentley simply observed from a distance, while the Chaurus still in the Grotto… were in the process of breeding.

I ignored the last with practiced aplomb and elaborated to Faralda, "Not actively. What you're seeing is how the Chaurus have learned to behave outside of captivity; so long as you don't enter their nests or attack them, they're willing to live and let live," I absentmindedly used my fingers to check the leg-joints of the bundle of cute chitin in my arms while continuing to speak, "Before I came along and freed them, not a single one of the Chaurus knew what the outside world was like, or that there was anything in their future but being slaughtered for material and food by the Falmer, who they hate."

"They hate them?" Faralda seemed surprised, and from the furrowing of Farkas' brow nearby, so was he; I reminded myself that they didn't have my abilities, or saw the Chaurus like I did.

I still nodded curtly, lips pursed, "Yes. Some of the larger ground-bound Chaurus have worse scars, from flails and knives; given that most ground-bound have the mentality of children, the Falmer didn't endear themselves at all to the little ones. As for the Hunters, all of them save Sophia, who is the youngest fledgling, have at least one scar or mutilation, and… well," I smiled ruefully, not wanting to darken the light of day with talk of the Reaper, and Skitter was becoming more [irritated] with each passing second, so I cut my lecture short, "I have copious notes, back at my house, and one of the Chaurus is about to enter the next phase of her life. I'll be happy to let you look over my research, and sit for an interview, if that's agreeable?"

This offer went over very well and, after I complimented Miss Brelyna on her sketching and offering a few of my own for her to copy, we made our way north along the ridge for a few minutes. Skitter's den was set apart from the Grotto, more due to her large size than any favoritism or segregation.

That, and her instincts were telling her to cannibalize her brothers and sisters, on top of razing the surrounding forest and nearby town, to fuel her change. Obviously, I wasn't about to let that happen.

While we walked, I explained a theory of mine to the two mages, "It's well-known and documented that a common Chaurus becomes a Hunter after a time, but what comes after the Hunter? Is there another evolution? If so, what is it? Happily," I smiled at the visitors and stroked the little one's back as Skitter let out a mental shriek of [anger] at the itching under her chitin, "we are about to find out what this third iteration is like.

"I have notes on the process Skitter, the oldest Chaurus Hunter in the herd, has gone through to prepare for this change. In the interest of advancing the study of the Chaurus, I'll allow you to copy the notes after lunch," I added with a smile to Brelyna, who still diligently recorded my words in another journal; then my smile faded, "I caution you all, however: do not go past the rope I've put in place. This change is very uncomfortable for Skitter, and my control over her when she's like this is tenuous at best. Are there any questions before we approach?"

Brelyna did, asking innocently, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned the Reapers," both Farkas and Faralda nodded, likely for different reasons, given their professions, "What can you tell us about them?"

I considered for a moment, shooed the little one back to the Grotto, and replied slowly, "They're… not the same as other Chaurus. The only Reaper I've encountered was willingly serving the Falmer; it used the Hive Mind to ensure the compliance of the Hunters, who the common Chaurus take their cues from. Whether this is the exception or the norm," I shrugged, and admitted with a small smile, "Well, I'm retired from battle, and have a business to establish. Any field research will have to wait until my livelihood is secure, and even then, I'll likely hire an escort and guide."

An escort in the form of some well-muscled and -mannered hunk who'll ensure my tent is warm and comfortable while engaging in said research. Not that I'll speak such things out loud.

"Smart of you," nodded the hunk in question, with his arms folded; I sent the ruggedly handsome warrior a questioning look, and he replied airily, "Some folk in your place don't think about the risks and hare off to the nearest ruin without preparing themselves or hiring help. Too impatient. If they're lucky, they either get killed or someone gets them out before things get rough."

Ah. And by Faralda's wincing nod, that's a rather common occurrence among dungeon delvers. Which makes me worry for the common sense of Skyrim's population; fortunately, most of the people I've met are more cautious than that.

Still, I smile at the tall, built man, "Thank you for the compliment, then," he huffs in reply, cheeks coloring slightly – I make a mental note to give him some mead later – and I ask if there are any further questions.

None are forthcoming, so I lead them to the overhang where Skitter resided.

It used to be the den of a Pale Grizzly; the beast ran afoul my Chaurus when it decided that the Grotto was a new food source, not realizing it was the other way around.

A mound of earth rose on the northward side, to keep the wind out, and a burrowed hole from the Grotto brought humid air to the small redoubt. Just outside the mound was a series of stakes, a rope of Frostbite Spider-silk providing a visible boundary; small signs, warning against intruders, hung from the silk.

Inside the cave was Skitter, who hissed in [irritation] at the visitors from her perch on the side of her chrysalis, which was shaped about the same as a common-to-Hunter pupa, except much larger and of a darker yellow.

"Hello, Skitter," I greeted my big, loyal girl, sending as much comfort and caring as I could into the Hive Mind; she buzzed her big wings with [annoyance] and [discomfort], then turned to vomit more ichor into her chrysalis. The frost troll from earlier still wasn't finished, half the mutilated corpse lying next to the big Hunter's nest, deeper into the den.

With a sigh, I turned to the visitors… who, save Farkas, were hanging back slightly with surprise and fear in their gazes; Callidus was closer to me and seemed confused by the mages' reaction, and Bori was calmly staying near Farkas with one hand on his mace, ready in case Skitter decided to attack us.

Not that Farkas seemed calm. His eyes were wide as he looked upon Skitter, and I could tell that he was fighting against drawing his sword, "Ysgramor's fists, it's huge."

I nodded and looked at Skitter myself, keeping my posture calm and relaxed, "She, and yes. Skitter was already quite large when I found her. From what I understand, most Chaurus Hunters are culled and used for armor and weapons before they get this big."

"Makes sense," nodded the Companion, stepping a little closer, but keeping himself ready for an unexpected attack; Faralda and Brelyna were moving a little closer as well, at Callidus' beckoning. Farkas elaborated at my prompting, "Bigger Hunters are faster, harder to take down, even for trained warriors. Didn't know they could change into something else, though."

"The Falmer don't let them. The ones in Frostflow would've turned her into a table, if I hadn't shown up," I said in disgust, a feeling echoed by the big strong man if his expression was anything to go by. Our conversation was interrupted by Skitter looking my way and, with an audible growl, speaking into the Hive Mind.

[queen] [ready] [safety] [concern]

"It's okay, Skitter," I smiled, taking a step closer to the rope and sending as much reassurance to the big girl with my next words, "Your brothers and sisters will watch out for me, and you, while you sleep."

Skitter nodded and, without further ado, scuttled into the chrysalis; the ichor rose up to the lip of the construction…

And I felt [relief] flow from her, accompanied by an absence of itching. It was like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It felt so good, I closed my eyes and sighed. The itching had been such a constant companion over the past weeks; I was glad it was finally gone.

"Oh!" Brelyna's exclamation made me open my eyes again. Skitter had apparently shed her exoskeleton, which was now forming a seal at the top of her chrysalis; as her [contented] emotions rippled into the Hive Mind, bringing an illumination of [joy] from her brothers, sisters, relatives, and her children yet unhatched, I felt something else…

Clicking my fingers, I spoke to Callidus, who was prepared with my journal on Skitter's progress, "Note: Skitter has entered a trance that is very like the common-to-Hunter change. Physically, her chitin processors are already reconstructing her exoskeleton; new organs and muscle groups seem to be forming. I am also sensing what I believe is a connection to the land's magic, which is pouring into her body and facilitating these changes; this hypothesis is based on the feelings my power presents while observing spriggans, which is the most similar sensation I can think of. Mentally…" I trailed off.

My power was picking up distant echoes of [pain], [suffering], [fear], [hate], and [apathy]. Other Chaurus were crying out, in the far distance; it wasn't easy to hear them clearly, and the images were hazy at best, but I had a good idea where each of them were.

There were two small clusters to the east, one that was very far away to the south, and another in the south, but closer and larger than the other three combined.

It was distracting, though I could still hear Faralda saying something about how revolutionary my discoveries were; more than distracting. It was something familiar to me.

I continued in a clipped tone when Callidus shifted and whispered my name in concern, "…Mentally, Skitter has… begun receiving distant signals of the Hive Mind; I believe these are areas of high Chaurus concentration. Due to previous observations, and the feelings being transmitted, I believe these are long-term Falmer lairs where Chaurus slaves are kept as breeding stock. Investigation by appropriate organizations is being considered. End notations."

I turned from Skitter and looked over my friends and visitors. Callidus was finishing the notes with a hard, determined expression; Faralda was silent, seeming to take my words seriously. Brelyna seemed nervous, glancing at her mentor for further direction.

My gaze turned to Farkas, who was watching me with an assessing frown, and Bori, who looked concerned but unsurprised; good man, "Mr. Farkas, I will need to speak to you in private, after lunch; I may have need of the Companion's services. Bori, your map, please."

At the same time, I made a cluster of bugs near the barracks, where Judas was standing watch, and quietly buzzed to Captain Frokmar Banner-Torn, warning him that there were many Falmer in the ruin to the south, and that they were preparing for a push to the surface, if the images I was receiving were correct. I suggested informing the Vigilants, and was promised a rider would be dispatched presently.

While I ensured the safety of the Pale, the Hive Mind's illumination of [joy] was joined by [hope]; those Chaurus that were hibernating and not in Dawnstar could hear my Chaurus speaking of their Queen, of the [happiness] they'd found on the surface of Skyrim, away from the Falmer. A twitch of my will added a [warning], to be careful in dispersing these thoughts.

Once done, and the locations of the Falmer settlements were located – Farkas was well-travelled, and Faralda knew the locations of many ruins and grottos around Skyrim; Bori promised to prepare a detachment to check the nearest ruin – my smile returned, and I invited my visitors to lunch, dismissing their concerns over my revelations.

I detached Skitter from the other Hive Minds, for the moment; I would check on each cluster regularly to examine their progress. Additionally, I told Imp and Sophia to keep an eye on their elder sister, and implemented a watch rotation; it wouldn't do for a wild animal or, Gods forbid, the Falmer, to kill Skitter before she finished changing.

In the meantime, I engaged Farkas and Faralda in a discussion involving spriggans, their connection to nature, and the similarities I felt when compared to Skitter's new ability; it was a thoroughly delightful conversation, the Companion knowing more of the traditional myths and legends regarding the nature avatars, while Faralda's knowledge was more academic. It was a most pleasant distraction, and allowed me to step closely with the hunky Nord, who enticed me with his musky scent and deep, steady voice.

The matter would be dealt with, in time, I assured them, and spoke no further on the things I felt, no matter how troubling and alarming they were.

For there was something else, an echo of [hunger] that kept telling the Chaurus to [obey], deep beneath Skyrim, barely a whisper to my senses, and I dared not examine it too closely, lest I accidentally reveal my hand too early to an unknown element.

I'd sworn, in the cold of Frostflow, to destroy any Falmer that crossed my path.

Hopefully, the rest of Skyrim would aid the Chaurus and I in our incipient rebellion.