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The Swarm's Host

Chapter 6: A Pair of Strangers in the Snow

Eragon felt his breath catch in his throat. He was already on edge as it was, but then it screamed. It felt high pitched and yet deeply guttural. He caught sight of its movements and before he knew it, he was darting backwards as the monster fell upon the ground, wings outstretched and beating furiously like a wasp's own tempo.

He suddenly pulled his bow up and readied an arrow towards the monster.

"Don't make me shoot. I will hit you."

It hissed his way, getting lower to the ground as its back tail snaked around.

"Hit, yes. Kill, no."

Eragon steadied his aim, showing no intent to let up as he waited for it to attack. If it just opened its mouth –

"An arrow inside … my mouth will take … the damage. Not fatal."

He snarled, "So you have been meddling in my head."

The monster growled, "I have … little influence … and I have … no intention."

"How do I know that, monster?"

"You … can read my mind … too. We are both … connected."

Eragon's aim faltered as he heard it speak. Did he really have that capability? No, it could be lying to him.

"I could … eat you … rip you … apart … You are … fragile … too fragile … weak … but I do not … want that."

Suddenly his mind went back to the deer, the wolves … and the other corpses. He ran through them again, double checking the bones in his mind's eye before he realized a strange discrepancy.

"You … you haven't eaten any humans," Eragon breathed heavy.

"Was tempted … the traders … your brood spoke true … they disturbed me."

He scoffed, but now he was truly conflicted. The monster was brutal and violent, but it was intelligent. It could have killed people, killed Eragon maybe while he was in his sleep and yet, it didn't. The several weeks had been quite a while, plenty of time for it to get a taste for killing sentient life.

You Terrans … are social entities … it would not … be in my best interest … to kill.

Finally, Eragon let his bow down and almost on cue, Eragon saw the beast's posture relax. Somehow, he felt it was genuine, like a wave of relief was running over him. Perhaps the monster wasn't lying when it came to the double-sided connection.

"What are you then?"

Zerg, it answered matter-of-factly. Eragon scratched his head at that one.

"Zerg? I've never heard of that."

"That is obvious …"

Eragon waited, the silence only growing as the awkwardness stretched on. The cold air was starting to sink through his clothes, water finally reaching through the fabrics and leathers he thought would keep him safe. That should have taken hours, but then again, how long had he been walking?

"Two hours," it answered, "You have … travelled far … you were very slow."

"If you wanted it me to find you so quickly, why did you have me look for you instead of coming to find me yourself."

"To experiment."

Eragon scoffed, "What?"

"Theory … testing … I am only days old … this form … baser instinct muddled …. Connections frayed … old instructions … dying words … I am what I am."

Such an answer only served to confuse Eragon further. What was this thing going on about? Testing? Dying words?

"What are you then … your kind," Eragon asked, "You said you were Zerg, but that tells me nothing."

"It is … what it is," it answered, slowly moving again as it circled the clearing. It was, however, not looking Eragon's way. Instead, it seemed to be guiding him somewhere. Eragon followed.

"I am … foreign … alien," it started, "My goal … was simple … survive … and now … even that … has changed."

Eragon sped up his pace, which was rather difficult with the snow. At least the creature had the decency to walk rather than fly.

"You speak more riddles than Brom."

It snorted at him, "This Brom … he hides in secrets … deception is his ally … I know this."

Eragon rolled his eyes, "I'll let him know what you think."

Deeper into the bare forest now, the pair moved quickly together, not once stopping for one another. Eragon had an inkling of a feeling that the creature was still seeing if he could keep up, which only infuriated Eragon further. This was the monster he was afraid of? If the monster was reading his mind now, then perhaps he could express how much disappointment he had in this fear of his. This thing wasn't aggressive or bestial as he predicted – it moved and acted more like a pest.

A scared little insect, in a way.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked.

"Nest … home … it is closer to your home."

"You could have led me there from the start then. This was a waste of time."

It turned about, suddenly lunging forward. Eragon stepped back as its face reared into his, sniffing and snarling in agitation.

"It is stupid … to lead … unknown elements … into your home … then again … you wouldn't understand … you are moronic enough … to bring … me to your domicile … idiot."

"Your egg was different. I thought you were a rock I could sell."

"Stupid … stupid …"

Eragon snarled, almost adopting the monster's behavior, "First you call me weak and fragile, then you call me stupid. You want me to follow you or not?"

It glared, or tried to as far as Eragon could tell, but slowly retreated, turning back towards his intended destination, "Stubborn … very stubborn."

"Better stubborn than whatever you are, monster," Eragon snapped back.

It stopped talking, opting instead to lurk in silence as it led Eragon deeper towards its nesting site. Here, he could see other corpses, but these were far more cleanly picked. They were but bones with some even broken apart with their marrow extracted. The trees in the area twisted as though wilting like a flower. Their shapes came ever closer, twisting together before they eventually kneaded together into a small hut. There was only one entrance and one exit, just barely large enough to fit the creature. Even its makeshift cushion of rocks, twine, and bone was woefully inadequate.

"Growth … unnatural," it answered before Eragon could verbalize a question, "Gradual … not rapid … metabolism uncontrollable … cellular growth consistent … my genetic sequence is resistant to changes … it annoys me greatly."

The words didn't process. He might have understood intent, but understanding this verbose creature needed more than just empathy.

"Can you speak plainly?"

He saw it bristle, nudging itself into the nest before it looked his way again.

"I need to eat too much … hunting is … a bother."

Eragon blinked. Was it … being lazy? Eragon didn't know what to make of such information, only that he could feel its annoyance through their connection again.

"It is an imitation of you."

"So you claim," Eragon laughed, a weight lifting off his shoulder as he found a dry patch of ground to sit. The area around the nest was surprisingly uncovered. It must have been the trees … or maybe it was what was on the trees that was doing it. He touched one of the trees' bark, feeling a substance stick to his skin before he plucked his hand back. It was … really warm.

"My bile is effective … at melting snow."

Eragon grimaced, "Your … bile? As in your vomit?"

"It does not originate from my gut … it is an adapted organ … near my throat … I do not know it's original function."

Organ, adapted, original function – Eragon wiped it away, trying not to confuse himself further. He needed answers that weren't about the creature's body.

"What do you want?" Eragon asked again, though this was a far more amiable tone.

"To know … to learn …"

"If you're trying to learn from me, then you're talking to the wrong person."

"I must … we are connected … I speak to you and you alone."

Eragon snarled, "Then connect with someone else."

"I cannot … the bond … is unresponsive … and it is not controlled by me."

Eragon paused at the noises the creature made, feeling the bond light up again. Frustration, annoyance, acceptance – all of these things rung true, but there was another blip of feeling inside.

"You're scared," he muttered, "You have no idea what's happening, do you? You know what I am. I'm … Terran … but you don't know anything else."

The creature grumbled. Unresponsive – Eragon suddenly felt inclined to dig into the bond, draw into the beast's thoughts like it had done so to it.

"You're … you were watching me because you have no idea what's going on. You have no answers."

"No …"

He scoffed. Suddenly the weeks that he had to himself, the ones that stretched out into what seemed like an eternity, deflated harshly. It was like waiting for a shepard's pie, only to see it come out burned and mangled. Or like hunting a deer for days, only to come up with nothing.

"It would not be … if you were more effective at hunting."

Eragon turned to the monster, "Like I'd care about the advice of a monster … and what's your reasoning? Why are you so concerned about how I've hunted?"

"We are connected," it bristled again and Eragon felt the monster's feelings reach for him and though he backed away, he could not detach himself entirely, "Your success … is my success … I can feel your thoughts … it goes through me … that much is all I know."

And I, you – Eragon thought to himse – er – to the creature. He was going to have to get used to having someone else in his head. The thought of such lack of privacy was uncomfortable and feeling the creature's sensations bleed into his own.

Wait a minute.

Eragon snapped up from his reverie, "It was you!"

The creature tilted its head, clearly confused. Eragon sighed before he continued to elaborate.

"You … all those thoughts, those feelings, that was you, wasn't it? I thought you were making me feel those things, but that was all you."

It grumbled, "Elaborate … you are being too vague."

"What I've been feeling. You should know. You're in my head, you monster. The feeling of being watched and hunted, the isolation and dizziness, the untrustworthiness and wanting to keep secrets, that was you!"

Eragon threw his hands up. No wonder he felt so … different. If the creature was feeling his senses, just as it could connect to his mind, it was bleeding other thoughts. Obviously, it wasn't everything. If it was, he would have figured the connection himself much earlier. Instead, it was probably the highs and the lows. He thought to how it wanted to be free, from when it was still in the egg. The thought was all-consuming and mind-meltingly loud … but of course that'd be the case. If Eragon were stuck in a claustrophobic little rock, he'd want out too.

"So, we're stuck together."

"This is true … but adversity breeds adaptation," the creature started getting up, Eragon feeling its growing discomfort with its home, "Ordinarily … I would seek to consume, adapt, and repeat … the cycle of my species … demands this."

"But the connection stops you," he answered for it.

"Correct. Consuming humans …. Would not be beneficial … your species lack necessary nutritional value … and our connection has diminished my appetite."

"Yes yes, for your sake," Eragon waved away, "How am I supposed to deal with this? I can't have your monster mind muddying up my thoughts. You're unbelievably loud and obnoxious."

It snarled, "Says the human … with commentary fit for … literature … books as you call them."

"I'm surprised you even know what books are."

"Your information … is mine … idiot."

"Right and am I supposed to believe your wonderful personality is mine as well?"

"Your words speak for themselves."

Eragon sneered, but ultimately said nothing. It was pointless to continue and he even felt the same sentiment in the monster as well.

"What are we supposed to do now? We're stuck like this then? Forever?"

"Adapt," it growled, "Opportunity arises … difficulties change flesh … and growth is possible."

Another riddle, but at least he was willing to answer it, "Fine. First thing we must do is separate ourselves. I'm tired of feeling … whatever the hell you're supposed to be feeling."

"Through what means? Physical separation … does not affect … the connection."

Eragon shook his head, "I don't know. We'll think of something. Until then … we need to do something about this nest … and sort … God, stop doing that."

"What … do you mean?" it hissed.

"T-The way you talk! It's so agonizingly slow. Its maykinp- fuwaa – its going to make me slur my words at this rate."

"I cannot learn … you should learn … to adapt."

Eragon grumbled, now thinking more deeply about his predicament. Their bond wasn't going away as far as Eragon was aware. If anything, it was getting stronger and their habits would slowly begin to meld together. It was a rope game, tugged between him and the creature's mind. Even if it wasn't purposeful, the fact of the matter was that Eragon was in danger of being permanently shifted into this beast's mind set.

"But the other way around can work," he muttered softly, "You're … adaptable, right? Would you be susceptible to changes I give you?"

It grumbled, shifting out of its nest and snaking past him with careful steps, "That … would be possible … but your Terran habits … will be unwieldy."

He rolled his eyes, following by the creature as they walked again. Eragon got a glimpse of where he was relative to the creature's mental map of the forest. Home wasn't far, "Well, you'll be dealing with me."

"It would be … better suited … that you adapt … to my psychology."

"Your what?"

It paused, "Method of thinking … Zerg perspective, as is our biology, is superior."

"Well, tough," Eragon spat, "You're making me go insane."

"And your idle chittering causes me great distress."

Eragon tilted his head as he heard, for the first time, a sentence without pauses, "Took you long enough to talk right. Some adaptable beast you are."

"It is effective communication."

"So you say," he huffed, pushing the beast back along the path. Eragon sensed the monster's feelings, its confusion, but Eragon simply displayed a stubborn confidence to push against the beast.

"Why are we heading to your domicile?"

"If you're talking about my home, it's because you clearly are more spoiled than you let on."

"Spoiled? Spoilage of food? No, you mean behavior."

"You're uncomfortable out here. I can feel it through the bond clearly."

"You project unfair assumptions of my thoughts."

"You're up all night trying to survive, right?" he assumed with reasonable evidence, as he passed by the wolf corpses, "You even said yourself, you're growing quickly. You're bouncing around for shelter, food, and protection and getting neither of the three."

"I disagree. I am now very protected and secure. I have killed all other prominent predators in the area."

"Supposedly," Eragon grumbled, "I suppose you'll have food, but I really wouldn't want you suddenly hunting random animals once you've scoured any source of food. Can you eat other things? Vegetables?"

"You intend on caring for me?"

"Just long enough for us to get used to this bond."

"IF we get used to this bond," it corrected, "You are planning for an optimal outcome that may not come to pass."

"We will get through this."

"Just like you got the deer."

Eragon smacked the creature's back, his fingers meeting the surprisingly thick skin that covered its body. It jumped, but with his intent clear, at least it wasn't going to lash out. Nevertheless, glared his way with an eyeless gaze, growling as he shrugged.

"Hey, I found you. I'll adapt," he lugged his bow finally around his shoulder, "What should I call you?"

It took a moment, but before long, it followed his stride again, the monster's breath huffing out puffs of hot air, "Zerg."

"I'm not going to call you by your species. I'm talking about you!" Eragon said, before giving it a short thought, "Why not Zaz? Zaz the Zerg."

"If that is what you wish."

"You're no fun."

In another place, at around the same time, there was someone else that said those exact same words. Unlike Eragon, the man was not next to a ravenous monstrosity made of flesh and chitin. Instead, he had a light touch, footsteps barely making a dent in the heavy snowfall as he watched his other compatriot come towards his way. Kaelith may have not been next to a beast like Zaz, but he was certainly next to a different sort of breed, one who's shape would have been just as imposing to someone on this world.

"Gram, you're no fun. Speak up a little. Live a little bit," Kaelith said tip toeing across the untouched, smooth snowscape. It was a tedious affair, but one that he preferred as it kept his attire from sinking into the wet frost. Dark green hues wrapped around him in tightly fit tunic that was accented in white and gold around the edges. He could have done without the shoes – the heels were made of gold and were sorely unfit for such travel, but wasn't that the point?

Why go out or do a task when you weren't going to look your best.

"We are far from our mark," Gram's voice warbled in the air. A singular red light burned in the dark, shooting out rippling lines of neigh invisible waves. His partner lurched with cumbersome steps, his heavy foot falls smashing down into the pristine landscape down to the very mud below.

"Oh, stop being so droll. We're on an adventure, seeing the sights. Why don't we-"

His words were cut short as a beam of energy sliced through the air, originating from the tall one's eye. The heat was so intense that snow, trees, and even mud blew apart, water instantly vaporized into gas. Kaelith had nearly lost his balance, but he recovered quickly, staring at the tall figure.

"Are all you Obsidian Legionnaires so rude?" Kaelith scowled, "I'd have your head for that, you know? Chop you up, use you for parts."

"No doubt some fetish for your people," Gram grumbled, stepping past Kaelith towards his target. Kaelith followed by the big metal man, his hulking frame practically glistening in the moonlight. Gram stopped, giving Kaelith an opportunity to wrap an arm around Gram before following the Obsidianite's gaze.

"Very well done," Kaelith sighed, "You destroyed a rock."

"Not just any rock," Gram said shaking off Kaelith's arm. The short figure grumbled, but watched as Gram leaned forward, his servos stretching him down before he grabbed some calcified substance.

"This slime … it is unusual, foreign even."

Kaelith snatched the piece, taking a hard look before giving it a taste.

"It's very sweet. I could even call it nutritious."

Gram shook his head, "Disgusting."

Kaelith only chuckled at his partner's opinion, "Well, whatever it is, it's not what we're looking for. Why did you shoot it though?"

"To shut you up," Gram's voice growled, the eye continuing its work to look for their mark, "This should be the area. Are you sure you extracted the coordinates properly?"

"This is where the elf's mind has brought us, though I was very distracted by a certain Obsidianite holding me back."

"Hrmph," Gram grunted, "Then we'll scan the area. It must be underneath the snow."

"How long will that take?"

"A day, maybe two. We'll find it eventually."

"Ugh," Kaelith groaned, finding a nice area to take a seat. He took a seating motion, but as he reached the ground, he stopped in midair. The invisible shape of a seat formed under him, forged with the power of his mind. It wasn't as comfortable as satin cushions or lavish mattresses of his own abode, but it would do.

Feeling relaxed, he reached for his bands across his head, the ones that was covering his ears. As soon as he had them off, he felt the length of them twitch pleasantly in the open cold. His eyes sharpened, his face curving into a scowl as he grew bored.

"The next human we meet is mine. Don't forget that."