==Hi, everyone! I'm back with a new chapter that I'm quite satisfied with. I really just wanted to give you all a vivid visual of the inside of the Hypnobrai Tomb this time around, so might as well expose a relationship or two along the way! I had planned to get three chapters written for today but of course I got sidetracked with SOMETHING. And now I'm leaving for a two-week vacation so no updates whatsoever until I get back. I'll do my best to write and play catch up between now and then. Bye!==
Avicii - "The Days" feat. Robbie Williams
These are the days we've been waiting for. Neither of us knows what's in store. You just roll your window down and place your bets. These are the days we won't regret. These are the days we'll never forget.
Collateral Damage
Chapter 4:
Burrow
Soren was the first to awaken in his family. As his eyelids slid open to a new day, he felt his sleeping mate and son steadily breathe in his arms. They were beautiful together; it was the perfect scenario nature had intended. Slowly, he stroked his palm across her back, feeling her shoulder blades and spine. She slightly twitched in response and awakened as well. Her pink tongue hissed out from between her lips as she looked down at their sleeping offspring.
He rubbed his snout against hers. They both knew today was special. Gorgan's least favorite part of the day was saying goodbye to Soren, but he didn't have to today. The two parents have been keeping this secret from their son for a few days now.
Earlier this week, before Soren could depart from his warrior duties, General Slithraa made the announcement that any youngling who stayed in their nest with their mother could come along with their father on this very day to see every part of the Tomb. It was important for Gorgan and other younglings his age to start learning about their home. In a few years, he would begin to learn important stories about the history of the Serpentine and how their tribe ended up trapped forever. But the first step was knowing every inch of their surroundings.
Not only was it a time of learning for the younglings, but it was a day to bond with their fathers. Soren always played and wrestled with Gorgan while Elapidae watched in amusement, but this would be the first time he and Gorgan went on an adventure together. The most Gorgan had seen of the Tomb thus far was where Hypnobrai bathed, emptied their bowels, and molted their scales. Other than that, he had been sheltered in the one nesting area his entire life.
Elapidae's lips curved upward against the back of her slender white fangs. Their son was still fast asleep in his own mental realm of dreams. Nests were beginning to have movement around them. He would have to wake up soon!
Soren reached down with his snout to touch Gorgan's little head. When his lips pressed against his glossy scales, he blew air against him until it was forced out between a microscopic space, creating a loud, funny sound that made him and his mate laugh. Gorgan, however, annoyingly pushed Soren's head away to be left alone.
"Wake up, Gorgan," he whispered, snuggling him against his will. "It'sss time for me Tom leave."
Gorgan suddenly rolled over in disbelief. "No!" he wailed, immediately latching onto him.
Elapidae tilted her head, seeing through his practical joke. He would receive the same upset reaction only to reveal that there wouldn't be a goodbye at all. It was mean to do, but in the end, Gorgan would be relieved.
"Yesss, I mussst go," Soren persisted, sitting up with Gorgan completely swaddled in his embrace.
"No! Don't leave me!"
Elapidae gave him a look of warning. She dealt with this every morning. Enough already.
"Hmm...Okay. I won't leave without you," he unexpectedly agreed, prying Gorgan off him so he could sit in his lap.
The youngling looked conflicted. Was his father lying to him or being serious?
"How about you accompany me today?"
"...Really?"
Soren smiled and stroked his head. "Of courssse."
"What will we do?"
"Well, we can go exploring and sssee all the placccesss the Tomb hasss to offer. Sssound fun?"
"Isss it big?"
"Very big. There'sss a lot that you have yet to feassst your eyesss on."
"I want to go!"
He chuckled and got to his feet with Gorgan in his arms. A small group of Hypnobrai warriors was already gathering at the entrance of the nesting area. One, in particular, held his son, Skales, on his shoulders.
"Behave yourself," Elapidae told her son. "I love you."
"Enjoy your day off," Soren alleviated, holding her hand and nuzzling the side of her face before walking away.
She watched them go off far enough so that she could lay back down to get more sleep.
Gorgan laughed as Soren spun them both around and then swung him onto his shoulders. He happily held onto his father's head to keep his balance, but Soren kept his hands on his feet to be safe. Today was going to be an enjoyable and heartwarming memory Gorgan would carry with him for the rest of his life.
"How many younglingsss?" an empty-handed warrior asked as Soren's approached.
It was only Skales and Gorgan by the looks of it, so Soren opened his mouth to answer.
"Three," another voice answered for him.
When he turned to see who snuck up behind him, Gorgan beat him to it. "Cleo!" he cheered, his eyes big with excitement over the sight of his best friend.
Gorgan stretched his little hands out toward Cleo, who giggled in response. "Gorgan!" she greeted back.
The female youngling also mounted the shoulders of her kind-spirited father, who typically didn't join the warriors unless it involved training only. Morisol held his daughter's scaly hands above his head to play with her by initiating a sense of flight.
Two females came right after, completing the standard group from this nesting area. "Let'sss regroup with Ssslithraa ssso the ressst can arrive," a warrior directed.
With that plan in mind, their group lined up and made their way through the vast passageways of the tunnel. The three younglings gazed around at the familiar shapes of the icy formations all around them. Three separate small entrances covered the wall to their right, giving way to rooms they were all familiar with. Their mothers carried them through here every day to go to at least one of them, and none of them were too far away from any of the three nesting areas, either.
The place they were all taken, however, was very foreign to them. It was so expansive that every sound echoed. Serpentine were all over the place, being divided into different groups for hunting and training. The stiff icicles along the unreachable ceiling remained undisturbed by the activity.
Soren and Gorgan followed the others to General Slithraa, who stood erect on a minor ledge with his authoritative golden staff in hand. The younglings viewed his massive tail that dangled off the side threateningly. Skales admired him, probably because his parents told him about him before today, but Gorgan and Cleo were unsure how to feel. When Slithraa noticed them all, his stone-like expression softened. "Ah, yesss. The firssst younglingsss," he hissed, joyfully raising his staff. "Pleassse wait for the othersss. Asss for the ressst of you, pleassse go sssharpen your ssskillsss with training."
"Yesss, General," they all firmly atoned, following their orders.
Gorgan, Cleo, Skales, and their fathers stepped aside to wait. None of the younglings has ever met others like them. How many could there be? Meanwhile, their fathers conversed with one another. They knew who was to be expected, and they planned to stay together so that their offspring could share the experiences. They would be around each other every day for the years to come as they learned mentally and physically, so this was a good head start for the time being.
As the minutes ticked by, more bulky males appeared with their younglings mounted on their shoulders. Gorgan met all of them: Selma, a female who seemed nervous to be around others like her, Mezmo, a male who earned his name after hypnotizing his mother at birth, Rattla, a male who could purposefully emit a peculiar sound from his throat, Chunk, a male with a slow learning capacity, Miraj, a female whose crimson eyes had doubled rings in them, Vovabi, a female who shied away from strangers, and Amica and Briar, a set of twins who learned how to both perch themselves on a single pair of shoulders.
Gorgan was surrounded by younglings who were just like him. Each was well-behaved and had their own personality. He wanted to befriend all of them!
Slithraa dismounted from his ledge once all Hypnobrai we're given a directive. Gorgan nervously grasped the sides of Soren's serpent head. The General of the tribe was so big compared to the ordinary warriors. His muscular stature towered above anyone who crossed his path as his long, thick tail trailed behind him. It was an intimidating sight for most of the younglings. Only their parents spoke of him. His body communicated fright, but his welcoming crimson eyes told a different story.
"Take your offssspring around. Let them have a look around," he kindly prompted as he slithered past them.
Soren and Morisol both made eye contact. Their younglings gravitated toward each other. Elapidae always told him about how Gorgan would only play with Skales if he got to see Cleo afterward, and sometimes Velsuki would watch Gorgan while Elapidae visited her friends. If they were to keep the two apart today, it would almost be a crime.
"Well, thisss isss the gathering place," Soren told his son, turning around so he could view it in its entirety. This was where the tribe came to celebrate the birth of younglings or to learn about what has been occurring in the tribe.
"What'sss that?" Cleo asked Morisol, pointing to something Gorgan couldn't see.
"What'sss what?" Morisol played, reverting around to face the complete opposite direction.
"That!" Cleo persisted, twisting her body to point again.
"Oh! The ritual pool," Morisol named, turning back around and leading the way for everyone else. Soren slightly leaned forward so Gorgan could gaze down at the shallow pool of still water. "All younglingsss are placcced in the water for good fortune after they are born."
"Why isssn't it frozen?" Mezmo questioned, trying to get his father's attention by poking at his eye.
"Nobody knowsss. Ssstop," his father deterred, clasping his small hand.
"Ssslither Pit!" Chunk exclaimed, noticing the dormant engravings etched in the reflective ice-laden floor.
"Yesss, very good, ssson," his father applauded. "You've been listttening closssely."
The snakes all walked over to the circle that took up most of the space in the very center of the room. "The older younglingsss ssshould be here ssshortly for their combat training," Rattla's father informed them.
"We can sssee more in the training area," Miraj's father hissed, already headed that way.
The others followed him without any complaints. Gorgan curiously gazed around at his surroundings, but the thought of observing older younglings excited him. He had never seen what training was all about.
Everyone halted when Briar and Amica began laughing. The twins' father had turned to look at the wall, and the reflection that responded was quite the caricature. The wall's unique shape with the ice forever freezing the way it did created mirrored images that manipulated what was in front of them. His two younglings appeared to be fused to his head, complete with eyes of exaggerated size and snouts that were cut short.
The rest of the younglings wanted to try it, too, of course. Soren and Morisol brought over Gorgan and Cleo so they could also be involved. Both of them moved and changed their facial expressions to make the other laugh. Their fathers also joined in on the fun, enjoying it just as much as their offspring. The sound of their laughter sparked a sense of happiness in both of them. These were moments that made fatherhood a worthwhile experience.
"Come gather around, young onesss!" a voice called from down the split corridor.
"Sssoundsss like it'sss ssstory time," Selma's father translated, leading the way to the fork in the road. The left led to where younglings learned stories and fables, and the right led to where younglings trained in preparation for combat training, which would last until they were no longer considered younglings at all.
The group strolled into the room to find younglings a few years older sitting around a female elder named Tijakas. Sketches covered the wall of stone behind her, depicting history of the Serpentine species and helpful stories that taught valuable lessons. Every youngling was more than intrigued when Tijakas pointed at a series of related etches and mentioned a story all the fathers had heard before.
"Sssomeday you will learn from Tijakasss, too," Soren told his son.
"Did you?" he wondered, bending over to lay on top of the flat section of his head.
"Yesss, and ssso did your mother and all the other warriorsss in the tribe. Ssshe isss very wissse."
"Who remembersss the tale of Roli the little ssscout?" Tijakas asked, using the tips of her bony fingers to dig out the dirt that settled into the divots since she last spoke of it. "We have the new younglingsss here to visssit."
A big part of the younglings raised their hands in hopes of being chosen. Tijakas pointed to a male and asked for him to stand up and tell the story aloud.
Skales squirmed to be put down so he couldn't go sit with the older younglings and listen. Others followed suit, including Gorgan and Cleo, but those two decided to sit in the very back together. The fathers remained standing to watch. The eagerness to learn at such a young age was surprising but also a promising sight.
"Let them hear the ssstory," Morisol said. "The training area will be more interesssting to watch."
When the story of Roli was over, Tijakas said goodbye to the younglings so she could continue to tell more stories to her regular group. Soren and Morisol picked up Gorgan and Cleo so they could tag along with the others once more.
Coming back to the split, the group ventured over to the right side, where noise abounded. Even older younglings followed orders as they all completed an obstacle course that tested endurance, agility, and perseverance. Gorgan was intimidated by all the activity. Three warriors — two males and one female — called out orders in different parts. The sculpted formations of the course had things they could climb under, over, and through. In between them, they had to run and jump over mounds of ice. Anyone who tripped or became too weary to continue had to stand in the center.
"Uh..." Cleo trailed, slightly overwhelmed.
Morisol comfortably stroked his hands against her back and kept them there to stretch his upper body for a moment. "Don't worry, Sssprout. It will be ten yearsss before you ssstart training. You're too little right now—"
"RAT!" the female warrior bellowed, pointing at the wall.
Every youngling stopped whatever they were doing to hurry over to the wall. The brown rodent writhed free from a dark crevice between the wall and floor and scampered away. Younglings lunged for it in a craze. Whoever caught and killed it won bragging rights and an early meal.
"Got it!" a female announced, holding up her dead prize.
"Well done," the bigger male warrior congratulated. "Eat up."
"Alright, get back to work," the female warrior told the rest. "Ssshow thessse younglingsss how it'sss done."
They lol unhesitatingly went straight back to where they left off. Skales begged his father to let him try the obstacle course just one time, but he said he wasn't big enough yet. Gorgan watched every part there was to see with an uneasy feeling thing itself in knots inside his stomach. It looked so demanding and hard. If this was what it took to become a hypnobrai warrior, he didn't know if he wanted to go through with it.
"I'm ssscared," Chuck whined, cowering against his father with his face hidden away.
"Perhapsss it'sss time to go back," Mezmo's father suggested.
"What do you think we ssshould do?" Soren questioned his son, pulling him off his shoulders upside down.
Gorgan giggled as his father bounced him up and down until he corrected his positioning and snuggled him. "Go back," he claimed.
Soren turned around to see that the rest of the group left them behind. Gorgan was laid across his father's face (butt on his snout and the rest laying on his head) and they both caught up to the group. He glanced up to see the ceiling transform into a meadow of gorgeous icicles that came in all shapes and sizes. Some were long and skinny and others were short and fat. It looked as if there was a period of rapid melting of the ice, but then it all suddenly froze into place.
When they passed back through the mirrored corridor, the gathering place was even busier. The oldest of the younglings were making use of the Slither Pit for combat training. Warriors scattered the area to observe and correct technique for each pair that took the center of the floor.
But the smaller younglings disregarded the sounds of clashing weapons of ice. They were all looking at the growing pile of prey with empty tummies.
"Food..." Amica softly endorsed.
All the fathers noticed the lack of interest in the combat training. They prey pile was still in the making, but it was indeed the time when the mothers fed them. They had seen everything that they hadn't already. It was a good time for a break. Afterward, they could go wherever they wanted to participate or watch.
They brought their offspring over and picked out a piece that was just small enough for them. Gorgan sat in Soren's lap as he chewed off morsels of his rat. The two had never spent too much time together. Soren tapped his nose against his head until he looked up. Their snouts rubbed affectionately. Neither of them wanted this day to end.
Soren is a good dad :) Or is he? Thank you AuroraRain18, Melodie Wolfe, and RandomDragon2.0 for leaving a review :D