Interlude: Kelekh'i
Ahlok scrambled around the tiny forest clearing, so panicked she was at risk of burning through her ether reserves. Where was he? She had to find him - or she was dead, she was gone, she was forgotten. He was everything. He was all they had. Where was he? Her secondary arms twinged with growth pains, but that was something else, something unimportant, where was he, where was he, WHERE WAS HE?!
Then she heard it: tiny, squeaky, chirping laughter. Ahlok raced towards it on all four intact limbs - her secondary arms hadn't fully regrown, but that didn't matter, not right then - and almost ran over them. Four little ether-blue eyes darted up to squint at her, full of unapologetic mischief. The war beast pup hanging over the hatchling licked his plumage of red-and-gold bristles, eliciting another high-pitched giggle.
Ahlok snatched Mezha-kel up. "Oh you... you trick-maker! You ploy-spinner! You fear-founder!" She cradled him close, arms wrapping around his squirming form. "Do you hear mine-hearts, little Kell? You gave me such worry!"
His pup friend barked at her. Ahlok reluctantly crouched down. "Do you see him, flesh-render? Are you catching his scent, ever-loyal? He is alive, he is well, and he is..." she trailed off, closing her inner eyes in stern consideration, "in very big trouble. It is time to slumber, not play."
The pup barked again. It didn't much care for sleep, apparently. Neither did Mezha-kel, if his energetic struggles were anything to judge. Ahlok hissed out an exhausted sigh; she had never anticipated hatchlings would be so much work - and it was just the one! And his sentinel-beast too, but the hounds were normally so compliant, yet putting them together with the little heir created a devious crew she simply couldn't handle.
"You are driving me to mine-wits' end," Ahlok firmly told the hatchling. Mezha-kel bared his little mouthparts. A few tiny needle-narrow points jutted from both his upper and lower jaws, marking where his teeth had begun to sprout. In truth, though, he only really had the two little tusks on the end of his mandibles handy - but by the Great Machine did he know how to use them, much to her growing dismay. Ahlok kept her fingers clear of them lest she be subjected to a surprisingly painful nip. Mezha squealed unhappily.
"Nama. The sun may have risen, but this is a Riis-night. You must sleep, little one, or you will grow cantankerous. And no worthy Kell is cantankerous, I tell you that now. A Kell must be fair and understanding and cunning and brave and-"
Mezha grabbed the edge of her mandibles and tried to pull on them, though he hadn't the strength to do so. Ahlok grumbled and leaned closer.
He went to bite her.
Ahlok pulled her head back, inner eyes fully closed. "Mezha!"
The hatchling gurgled and smacked his fangless jaws together in a vain attempt to mirror her own clicking speech. Ahlok sighed again; he was so much work. After a moment spent gathering up her scattered patience like well-preserved ether-canes, Ahlok tilted her head to the side. "Shall I sing to you?"
Mezha's grumbling little complaints tapered to a halt. He stared at her with a greedy little hope gleaming in his eyes.
"And then you will sleep, yes?"
He made no sounds.
"Oh please, little kelekh, I must sleep too. I will buy a night of peace with a song. Eia?"
Mezha chirped once. As much an affirmative as could given by the soft-shelled hatchling. So Ahlok sang, low and soft, of a lullaby her own mother had hummed to her and her sister, which had been in turn sung to her by her mother, and her mother, and her mother… all the way back to Riis of old.
"The suns have set. The day is done.
The pink gives way to gray.
The beasts of field find warren warm to keep the chill at bay.
But you are not a beast.
And you are not the sky.
You are your mother's love-made-flesh, fragile as a sigh.
And so you need no warren,
Only mother's warm embrace,
A soft cocoon of nursle, our hearts alike in pace.
So I hold you mother-strong,
Love a beacon, burning bright,
Second only to our Machine's eternal Light."
Mezha ceased all motions. His eyes widened and brightened. Even his dutiful war beast settled down. Both curled on themselves, content and happy. Ahlok's hearts ached for them. She was singing them lies. She nonetheless carried on, voice little more than a whisper.
"And so I hold you, young-one,
In our Machine's eternal Light.
Guard you as you slumber, dear,
In our Machine's eternal Light.
Wake soon, my young so rested,
In our Machine's eternal Light.
Feel the mother-warmth, hatchling,
In our Machine's eternal Light."
Her blood ran hot and her tongue tasted bitterness. The only Light to be found had let them down - had let her sister down. Ahlok very nearly choked on the resurging grief. Riilix...
"Your mother must retire now,
Let you pass the night onward,
But love will keep a hearth alight if this, your heart, I stirred.
For you are not alone, my nymph,
'Neath your chest, our love does beat,
So mother never stray too far, though distant we may be.
And we'll embrace in-"
Footsteps, methodical and steady, reached her hearing. Ahlok straightened up and turned around just as Captain Kiphoris and two elves walked into the glade. Ahlok narrowed her inner eyes in distaste and accusation. Kiphoris, upon seeing her expression, slowed for all of a moment and then carried on. There was a sad smile in his eyes, honest and apologetic and ridden with guilt, but the tone with which he addressed the elf-humans was pleasant and welcoming, though she could not understand a word of it. Human speech was a very strange thing - much softer and more wordy than Low Speak.
Kiphoris turned back to her. "Have I interrupted?"
Ahlok murmured something even she couldn't make out. A wordless grunt of yes, but I'm not allowed to tell you that.
"Ah, no matter." He held out his hands. Ahlok reluctantly gave him Mezha. The little Kell grasped at the Captain's fingers with giggling eagerness. "Shall I finish the song for you, little one? Eia, I think I must. It wasn't fair of me to cut it short, was it?" He cleared his throat.
"And we'll embrace in night's retreat,
When skies are pink once more,
When twilight grounds fear and deceit against the evening's foreign shore.
So shed no tear now, my young,
You're within my ever-sight,
For always love it carries, by our Machine's eternal Light."
His voice was deeper than hers, and rougher with officer-speech, but it was just as pleasant as she expected. Not Inelziks-quality, though pleasing to hear all the same. Once, perhaps, Ahlok had looked up to him - nama, more, she had adored him! He had been fair to his crew, exotic of plumage, bright of eyes, quick of blade, sharp of mind, and gifted in the glimmer-loom ways of the Gentle Weavers. But... after Riilix-
One of the elves stepped forth. It was almost half the size of the other elf-human - was that their noble Däthedr-Mrelliks? - and herself, with bright eyes and a sheening presence around it. Carefully groomed brown fur fell down over its neck in wavy patterns. It was... smiling.
Ahlok took a step forth, instinctively trying to put herself between the little Kell and the unknown human.
"Nama," Kiphoris gently told her. He met the short human - a child, perhaps - halfway. "Dusan has a gift for Mezha-kel."
The elf-child proffered an orb of elegantly carved wood. It was in the form of an Obleker-series Servitor. Mezha greedily grabbed it and tried to fit the toy into his craw. It was fortunately too large, but the hatchling gave it his all. Dusan laughed. Ahlok felt her hearts slowing. Her panic subsided. Kiphoris glanced at her - and even with a brief gaze he seemed to understand.
She half-turned away, unable to look at him any longer. Instead, her attention drifted to the elf-humans, and when her curiosity had its fill, closed her eyes and listened to the innocent laughter of happy, innocent, oblivious children.
AN: Thanks to Nomad Blue for the edits! The lullaby is the traditional Eliksni one from Athrys's Embrace.
I want a Smallen plushie.