Warnings: Child cruelty, child death, cannibalism, mild gore

Chapter 2: Now all they Beg for is Food

Heket stood before the pond once more, gazing out over another clutch of eggs numbering in the hundreds, and sighed. She didn't need to ponder if they were all going to hatch this time, yet some part of her still wondered – hoped perhaps – if the last time had just been an anomaly.

Last time… Though the pain of that loss had eased with time, standing here now, again, she felt something catch within her chest. An ache both bitter and sweet. She had enjoyed the short time she'd had with her last brood, but it had ended too soon in failure. Her failure. One she did not intend to repeat. "Perhaps… if they were older…" Shamura's words echoed. That seemed like the best explanation; It had been too soon. She had been too hasty in her decision. But not this time, she vowed. This time she would wait.

She returned to check on them daily, singing to them as she inspected them and again observed their development from egg to embryo. As before this change was happening everywhere she looked, dashing any hopes – as fleeting as they were – of last brood's numbers being an irregularity.

On the twenty-first day they began actively moving within the transparent jelly, indicating they were about to hatch. She did not bother to return the next day as they would be recovering from the ordeal and unresponsive to her presence, and so returned the day after. "Mama!" They cried as she waded into the water. "Mama, Mama!"

The sight of them wiggling their little bodies as they tried to swim to her was like a soothing balm on the bitter ache that still persisted. She smiled down at them fondly, holding out and taking into her arms any that could reach her. "Hello, my children."

They gazed back with adoring faces. "Mama."

For the fate that awaited them, she began preparing them early, preaching to them as she did her followers. When the tadpoles had grown big enough to begin crowding the pond with both their size and numbers, this time she did nothing, though she did not know when the right time would be. Perhaps when they were froglets? Would they be old enough then?

Heket waded into the pond, and the tadpoles flocked to her as they always did. "Mama, Mama! We're hungry!"

"Mama, feed us!"

She sighed. In an alarmingly short space of time – a matter of days to be precise – food was becoming the first thing they begged of her. "I have food, my children," she assured them, and tossed them some food, a mixture of meat, fruit and vegetable dishes. "Eat up."

Before they would eat it all, but this time the fruit and vegetables went ignored, with the meat disappearing in a matter of minutes. The tadpoles gazed up at her imploringly and one – the boldest – swam forward and asked her. "Mama, can we have more?"

She blinked down at them in surprise. "More, my child?" She looked to the uneaten food left on the pond floor. "Will you not eat your vegetables?"

They all shook their heads. "We don't like veggies, Mama. Not anymore."

She blinked again. "I see… Very well, I will return with more meat."

Their appetite grew more still with each rotation of the sun across the sky, such that three feedings of meat dishes a day were soon not enough. Then four, then five. It was as if every one of them was transforming into a bottomless pit; They could eat all day and still be hungry. She remembered when they clamoured for her attention. Now all they begged her for was food, tugging at her cloak with their tiny little growing hands, and gazing up her with wide, imploring eyes. She began sharing with them some of her energy in an attempt to appease them, but that too very quickly became not enough.

As their demands grew, more and more it became more than she could give. Cracks were beginning to appear in her cult. Dissenters were on the rise. They were growing angry that she was demanding more from them – more devotion, more sacrifices, more food – as her children demanded more from her; That food was being funnelled into the mouths of her tadpoles instead of her followers', and now they were starting to go hungry as well.

Heket sat on her throne as a dissenter – a fennec fox with white fur – was dragged in and thrown to the floor at her feet. She bared her teeth at him in a displeased snarl as he got to his knees. "I have been told that you have expressed a desire to leave my cult. That you wish to leave the Old Faith. Is this true?"

"What're you going to do about?" He spat his reply. "Starve me into submission? I'm already starving!"

"No." She rose and stalked toward him to seize him by the ears and raise him to her face. "I have a better purpose for you in mind." She returned to the pond, dragging him along behind her by the ears, and the tadpoles gathered around her as she waded into the water.

"Mama! Mama!" They called out excitedly, eager for more food as always.

She raised the dissenter aloft. "Come, my children! Feast! Sate your hunger on this heretic's flesh!"

The fox struggled in her grasp suddenly afraid, as the tadpoles circled below him. One leapt from the water and latched onto a leg. He screamed and tried to kick them off, and succeeded, but with the tadpole falling back into the pond with a chunk of flesh in their mouth. Blood gushed from the wound and now blood was in the water. Three more tadpoles followed, one after the other, latching onto an arm, a shoulder and his other leg. He flailed and screamed as they whipped their bodies and bit down, and all three fell back with a chunk of flesh each. Heket let him drop and he disappeared below the surface. The tadpoles were on him in a flash and the water, churned by the thrashing of their tails bloomed red. She smiled wickedly, relishing the sight, but the smile was short lived as the tadpoles were again crowding around her and some tugged on her cloak. "Please, Mama, give us more! We're still hungry!"

She heaved a long suffering sigh. Of course they were still hungry. They were always hungry. "I have no more food to give you, my children. You must be patient."

"Mamaa," they wailed and she sighed again.

"I will return when I have more, as always." She turned to leave but a tadpole clinging to her cloak stopped her and she looked down.

"Mama… Mama…" The tadpole whimpered as tears leaked from their eyes. They were weak with hunger and not long for death, and must've used all of their remaining strength just to reach her side.

"I have no more food, my child. I cannot help you." Fresh tears rolled down their face at these words and their lip trembled, so she knelt down and gently laid a hand upon their head. "But perhaps if you are strong, you will feed upon my return." The tadpole sniffled and reluctantly let go of her cloak, allowing her to pull away. She had taken only a few steps when an eerie silence descended on the pond and she turned back in puzzlement and curiosity.

The tadpoles were staring at their starving sibling in a way they had never stared at each other before. It was predatory. It was hungry. One darted forward and nipped at one of the starving one's back legs, testing their response. The tadpole flinched and whimpered, too weak to do anything else. Another one darted forward, nipping at their side and the tadpole began to cry."Mama…" They tried to crawl to her. "Mama…" When their siblings came again, piling on them in numbers, it was with teeth, biting and tearing at their flesh and they screamed; Screamed in pain, screamed in fear, screamed for her. "MAMA! MAMAA!"

But Heket made no move to intervene – it was already too late anyway – instead she watched it all unfold, not with horror or disgust, or anguish, but with fascination, and the feeling of being on the edge of an epiphany. As if she held all the pieces to a puzzle but had yet to work out how the pieces fit together. The tadpole's screams soon died away and the feeling passed. When they had finished, all that was left was a blood stain. Heket approached the blood stain and the tadpoles stared back in complete silence as they awaited her judgement, the air thick with tension. "As I have said, my children," she spoke at length, raising her head to meet their gazes. "Only the strongest of you will survive." And the tension was released.

Another week passed and Heket was becoming convinced of the idea that there wasn't enough food in the world to feed her children let alone in her domain. She loved them still, but they were wearing down her patience, and she was starting to lose her temper with her followers, driving wedges between herself and even her most loyal and devoted. She knew this could not go on, so in desperation, she penned letters to the other Bishops, begging, pleading, beseeching them to send any sacrifices, dissenters and food they could spare her way.

She was not surprised when this prompted the appearance of Shamura. "I see they have inherited your appetite as we suspected, sister," they said with a mildly amused smile.

Heket heaved a long suffering sigh and massaged her forehead with one hand. "Yes… they have…"

"They are Children of Famine, so perhaps it was inevitable. We can only hope that it will not prevail into adulthood, though… this was not the way with you, sister."

"It must not, as I cannot keep up with them now, sibling," she confessed. "Their hunger has no end. Always they demand more. I have no more! And now my cult is suffering as a consequence…"

The humour faded from Shamrua's expression at these words. "I see. Then, perhaps… it is time…"

Heket swallowed and nodded somewhat reluctantly. "Yes…" She sighed. "Perhaps it is…"

"If they are strong, they will survive," they assured her and she nodded again, wordlessly.

Heket led Kallamar to the pond and the tadpoles greeted her with their usual cries of hunger. "Mama! Mama! We're hungry!"

"Mama, feed us!"

She sighed. "My children, this is your Uncle Kallamar," she said, before he could make any comments. "He is family, not food." He chuckled nervously when the tadpoles aww'd in disappointment. She gestured to them. "If you would, brother?"

"Are you sure it's safe?" He half asked half mumbled to himself, but gathered his courage and waded into the pond. The tadpoles flocked around him, gazing up at him with interest and curiosity. One even tugged on his cloak. "Uncle Kallamar, are you here to feed us?" They asked, with big round eyes full of hope.

He gave them a look of pity in response. "I'm afraid not, nibling."

The tadpoles again aww'd in disappointment. "But we're hungry." He glanced back at Heket who nodded and he sighed. He raised his arms aloft and energy streamed from him and into their bodies. They cried out all at once as the sickness took hold, and sank to the pond floor.

"How long do you estimate this time?" She asked once he had rejoined her side.

"Slightly longer than a week on account of their age, but no more than two."

She nodded absently. "Very well-"

"There was one other thing."

She blinked. "Yes?"

"I-I understand that last time you, ah… left them to themselves."

"Ah… Yes… I did. I am assuming that was a mistake."

"The tadpoles will need to be cared for while they are ill," he replied neutrally. "And spaced apart where possible. And the dead will also need to be removed."

"I see…" Her gaze slipped into the past as her thoughts turned to her last brood, and Kallamar dared to examine her closer. She seemed tired. Weary even. "Would it have made a difference… if they had been too young?"

Kallamar opened his mouth to reply, but reconsidered. "No," he said simply.

"I see…"

"I am sorry, sister," he blurted out, "I should have given you this advice last time."

She shook her head. "Your apology is unnecessary, brother. The fault was not yours. Is there anything else?"

"No, sister, that is all."

"Then thank you for your advice, brother. You may return to your domain." He inclined his head and took his leave, disappearing into a pool of darkness.

"Mamaa," the tadpoles wailed.

"Rest, my children. You will survive this if you are strong."

When Heket returned to her temple, she was surprised to receive a visit from Leshy. He had a pot of piping hot camellia tea in one hand and two teacups in the other. "What brings you to my temple, brother?" She asked.

He held up the teapot in explanation. "Kallamar suggested that I should make you some tea, sister."

She blinked. "Oh. How… thoughtful of him. And you, brother." She led him to her study, and once they had both made themselves comfortable, Leshy poured out the tea; A sweet herbal blend of his own creation, of which the camellia flower was a main ingredient. The healing properties of the flower were reduced in this form, to something more approaching rejuvenating. She carefully took a sip. The tea had cooled a little on the journey to her study to a shade below scalding, and so she carefully blew on the surface before taking more. "You look tired, sister," Leshy commented.

She sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"I'm afraid so…"

"I suppose it is to be expected. My children have been very… demanding of late…"

"From your recent request I gather they have developed quite the appetite."

"Yes… And that is unfortunately an understatement…"

Leshy hummed. "It is more unfortunate that they have only a desire for meat. If they still ate berries, I have-"

"That is no longer necessary," she cut in. "I had planned to have Kallamar inflict an illness on them once they had matured into froglets in order to reduce their numbers. But their appetite has become so voracious that it has, well, forced me to reconsider."

A look of understanding blossomed on Leshy's face. "Aah, so that is why Kallamar came to visit me today."

She nodded. "Indeed. I should thank him for his consideration when I see him again."

He nodded back and they both sipped their tea, lapsing into a moment of silence. "So, ah… what is it like?" He ventured at length.

"What is what like?"

"Well, uh… having children… being a mother… being a parent?"

She sighed and dropped her gaze into her teacup. "Now may not be the best time to ask me that question, brother. Their constant demands for food have placed a strain on both myself and my cult. That is not to say that I no longer love them, but I look forward to a return to normality once their numbers have been reduced to something more manageable. When some distance has been placed between myself and this… episode, and my cult has been restored. Perhaps you should ask me then."

He blinked. "I see… Perhaps I shall."

Heket finished her tea, placed the teacup down on the table and stood. "Thank you for the tea, Leshy, it was much appreciated. But I must make preparations for the week ahead."

Leshy rose as well and inclined his head. "Of course, sister, I will take my leave. But should you have need of me again, do not hesitate to ask."

A week later, the tadpoles' numbers had been whittled down from hundreds to just twenty-three. Heket was preparing a pumpkin and meat soup for them at a cooking station that had been set up beside the pond. She was alone, having sent her followers away to care for the tadpoles herself, and was idly stirring the soup with a ladle, trying not to think about how none of them showed any signs of improvement. How they were still just as sick as the ones that had gone before, sometimes in the night, or sometimes before her very eyes. Perhaps… she should consult with Kallamar about lifting the sickness…

As if her thoughts had summoned him from the aether, Kallamar rose from a pool of darkness and she blinked. "Kallamar? What… what are you doing here. I did not send for you…" Not yet at least.

"I came to examine the survivors and cure them of their affliction if necessary," he explained and gestured to the tadpoles as he added. "You have your numbers, sister, I see no reason to let their suffering continue." As she stared at him he felt his confidence evaporating like a drop of dew in the morning sun. "D-do you not agree?"

"I do agree, brother, you… read my mind in fact. As you can see, it would seem that curing them is necessary."

His brow furrowed in concern at their condition. "Yes… I do see." He wasted no further time and went from tadpole to tadpole, curing them with a touch.

"How long until we see an improvement?" She asked as she joined his side.

"A few hours at least."

She nodded. "Then thank you, Kallamar. I will take it from here."

Kallamar looked from Heket to the tadpoles and back. "It would be easier… if I helped…"

"You need not trouble yourself on my behalf, brother. I can manage."

"It-it is no trouble…"

She blinked. "Well… if you are offering, brother…" He nodded and she paused for consideration. "Very well," she decided at length. "The soup should be ready by now, so you can help me feed them."

They toiled through the day and then the night. Kallamar's heart sank with every dead tadpole he had to carry away, until by dawn of the next day, twenty-three had diminished to just four. He tried to keep the concern off his face as he appraised them; Not one of them looked like they would last the day, nevermind till the next morning. He glanced at Heket who was cradling one of the tadpoles in her arms. From her expression she was thinking the same. This required reinforcements. "Sister," he said. "I shall return momentarily." He returned with Leshy minutes later.

"Is this all that's left?" Leshy blurted out before he could stop himself. Kallamar shot him a look as Heket closed her eyes and looked away, and he winced. "I-I mean… I'm here to help. I have…" He held up a basket of camellia flowers. "I have flowers." He mashed the petals with a pestle and mortar, adding water until the petals had become a paste. He carefully scooped a tadpole into his lap and froze, giving a wide-eyed look to Kallamar, who took the body away without a word. The other three were carefully spoon-fed the paste one after the other. And then they waited.

Morning became afternoon. Leshy's went first. Afternoon became evening. And Kallamar's followed, leaving Heket's as the last survivor. And now they were, with evening turning to night, sitting together in a circle, simply watching and waiting. Heket began to hum the melody of a song as she gently rocked the tadpole in her arms. Leshy and Kallamar exchanged looks; It was the song she had often sung them to sleep with, when they had been children themselves. The tadpole stirred and opened their eyes. "Mama…"

"I am here, my child."

They gazed up at her and smiled. "Mama…" She smiled back. The tadpole closed their eyes and exhaled. The smile drained off her face as she waited for the tadpole to take their next breath. But it never came.

Leshy and Kallamar's eyes widened in realisation. "… Sister…"

Heket swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath. She placed the tadpole to one side and stood, wading further into the pond so they could no longer see her face. "Thank you, Leshy, Kallamar, for your assistance." Her voice sounded far away, as if she was operating on another plane of existence. "You may return to your domains."

They both got to their feet to object. "Sister-!"

"You are dismissed!" She gripped the edges of her cloak and added, so quietly. "I would like to be alone now…"

They exchanged looks and nodded, arriving at the same conclusion; This called for Shamura. "As you wish, sister," said Leshy, inclining his head.

"We will take our leave," Kallamar added, inclining his. They both disappeared, sinking into pools of darkness. Her barely held together composure crumbled away and she dropped to her knees, a sob tearing from her throat.

"Sister…?" She heard from behind her.

She sucked in a breath and turned to investigate. "Sh-Shamura?" Shamura waded into the water without another word and knelt beside her. "Shamura," she sobbed, "what… what did I do wrong this time?" They hung their head and said nothing, for they did not know either.

A/N: Meanwhile Narinder is too busy shepherding tadpoles into the afterlife to appear in this fanfiction. Narinder: Not again! Dx