Kin of Jörmungandr

These sapients are slow.

I noticed it back when I was watching them tread their way over the Magma Ocean, but even following my guidance, they trudge through these tunnels slower than a newly birthed bilby. If things go as they are, it might take a full cycle to lead them out to their home. The consideration to grow to my full size and carry them did pass my mind… but I find the idea distasteful. I have no desire to be the Titan that destroys a creature's home because they were too large and cared too little about what they destroyed.

A full cycle wasted just to save these five… well, the least I can do is make use of the time.

"What is it like to see through your eyes?"

Their lack of true sight has always interested me. How does it differ from what I'm used to? As I lead them through the tunnels, I watch them almost constantly get their feet caught in some low hanging bends. If they could just notice them before they stepped, we'd be able to triple our pace. No matter how hard I try, I cannot comprehend such lack of sense.

"You mean what are our lives like?" Ceph says after half a dozen seconds unable to speak. At least we've gotten past the point where her body freezes every every time I speak; I'd hate to have this diversion take any longer.

"Well, we mostly protect our people from enhanced creatures and invasions. We used to climb the Titan Alps to enhance ourselves, but ever since they fell, that has been impossible."

"Ceph," the antlered one, Hirsh, interrupts. "I believe Orm was being literal."

I let out a soft hiss at that. Both in affirmation, and a touch of satisfaction at hearing that name again.

"Oh…" She hums for a moment. "How do you describe sight? It's just something you can do, right?"

"Orm, you can see this… convolution of space in a way that we can't, but you can also see in these tunnels if the air was normal, right?" Hirsh says after Ceph's lackluster answer.

I imitate the nodding motion I'd seen them use instead of having to make them feel my presence again. It was really interesting that they had a language of the body. While moving my head up and down in the alien motion, I slide my tail over a rend so that the third tall one, Albin, doesn't lose his leg in a nest of critters.

Really, how did they get this far unharmed?

Hirsh suddenly holds up two similar jars. "Do these look different to you?"

"Water hyle." I point my head to one jar, then shift to the other. "Fire hyle."

That apparently is enough to surprise the sapient mass of antlers. "You know of hyle?"

Again, I nod. How can I not? Many of the stronger beasts have some connection to one of the types.

"Er… well, does this one not appear more distinct to you?" he raises the fire hyle one.

This time I make the other physical word I've learned. My head shakes from side to side, and I say no without ever speaking. The fire hyle is warmer — obviously — but it is no more difficult to make out than the water container. I do notice the spatial ripples are more intense than they usually are in the presence of fire hyle, but it is still magnitudes less obvious than the physical shape of the jar itself.

"Then you don't see with light," Hirsh announces matter of factly. "We do. In fact, we can't see most of these caverns because the light that comes off fire hyle doesn't reach very far down here."

I feel like I've heard the word before — maybe back in one of the beyond's lessons — but it means nothing to me. If it comes off fire hyle, is it like heat? Do they see depending on how warm things get?

Probably not. If that was the case, they absolutely wouldn't have travelled towards the Magma Ocean.

"Without a direct path from a source of light, we cannot see." The khirig slaps a wall while hiding the fire hyle jar to show he is blind, before he pulls it out, and traces his antler right over the edge of the wall to prove he can now see.

"Ah!" I hiss in realisation. "You see the ripples."

"Ripples?" Ceph asks, being the first to recover. She seems wholly confused.

But Hirsh's eyes widen beneath that cage of antlers. "Your sight is that sensitive?" he gapes before diving into murmurings to himself. "I guessed it was spatial based considering its binding, but to think it could even detect such impossibly faint influences."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Hirsh, what are you on about?" the volan, Tavi, says. This is the first time it actually breaks free of the terror I unfortunately seem to inflict on the smallest sapients.

I blame their rodent-like nature. If I wasn't me, they would look rather tasty.

"Orm can see the echoes light leaves on space!" He seems suddenly excited.

"It does that?" Ceph says.

"Of course." Hirsh spins back to me. "Does that mean you can also detect a creature by their gravitational force alone?"

I stare at him for a long moment, even forgetting to keep leading them to their column, before I shake my head.

"Huh?" he hums. "Then maybe it's because the effect is gradual and steady, rather than the concentrated fluctuation of light. I don't know if it will be possible or not, but try to cast your sight wide and see if there's any slow changes that you can pick out amongst the noise." Hirsh glances around the narrow cavern we slither through. "Or maybe when there's enough room to actually detect such wide distant differences."

I mean, sure if I look over a wide area, I can see the weights in certain areas are greater than others, and there is a constant, ever so slight variation as moments pass, but it is all mere noise compared to the massive downward force. Even if I can see the slight changes, there is no determining what causes them.

But… maybe he's right. I used to only be able to plan paths of one or two bends. I used to not even be able to create distortions. If I learn to read the minuscule changes to the spatial fabric, then maybe at some time in the future I'll have another way to detect threats before they arrive.

Considering how much Titans weigh, I'm sure it'll be useful.

As I continue to lead them through the tunnels, my own distortions interweave through the natural ones to make the path far easier for them. If only they weren't limited to walking along solid earth. Some paths would cut our journey time to a quarter or less. But I don't complain; I simply make as much use of the time as I can by asking everything that comes to mind.

"How many of your species live up on the surface? Is there anywhere you haven't planted your nests?"

Both in the warped tunnels, and on the Other Side, it doesn't matter how strong the predator, there is no one species — or even group of species — that controls such a vast area like these sapients do.

"I'm not sure, but it would be in the hundreds of millions," Ceph says. "And everywhere between the ocean and the Titan Alps have been settled. Though, recently we've learnt of land beyond the Alps, and that's largely untouched land."

I'm surprised to hear that they actually have an idea of the number of their species… and millions at that. How would they count that many?

While I keep my head straight and point them the right way, my distortions allow me to keep watching those I lead. And because of that, I notice Ceph's agitation. The longer we travel, the more her eyes seem to flicker over my form. It's especially bad when she finishes saying something, as if she's not sure if she should continue.

Then again, all of their body language is strange to me. She might just be enamoured with my scales… the scales I've not had the time to polish in a good long while.

The urge to dive down the nearest tunnel and crash through a river hits me, but I successfully push it down. What does it matter how I look? We'll be separating soon enough.

"Do you only live above the surface?" I ask, distracting myself from my less than stellar appearance.

"Of course." Hirsh says with a laugh before Ceph can. "You won't find many of us who rely on light where the sun doesn't shine."

The sun? Just before I can ask, Ceph interrupts and my hiss dissipates into an empty noise on my lips.

"You've lived most of your life underground, right? It's really too bad you don't want to join us; there's so many things sapients have created that I can just tell you would enjoy," she says.

"Yes, it has been an incredible surprise to find that you are as curious as you are, considering…" Albin comments, breaking his silence. I thought he'd been just as terrified as the two volans, even if he doesn't reek as bad of it as those two do.

I say nothing. Even if it sounds amazing to be able to search through their hive without the annoyance of being attacked or swarmed, I've already dedicated myself to this purpose. It is not something I can give up.

But in this short time before we reach the column, it shouldn't matter if I do satisfy a little of my curiosity.

❖❖❖

"We're here," I state as I slide out into the wide open bottom of the column. Not a small amount of disappointment lingers now that I'll lose the ability to talk with other sapients again. It was short-lived, but I enjoyed it.

"Already?" Ceph exclaims and her eyes widen.

She's already been growing increasingly agitated as time went on that even I can tell something is wrong. I know its something related to me, but her fear doesn't seem normal. It's a fear of something more than her own death. It doesn't smell as rancid.

"What happened here?" Fay asks. "The ground wasn't this hard when we dropped down."

"Looks like it became molten before resolidifying." Hirsh says. "Either a magma flow came through here, or something far hotter melted through everything."

As I look around, I notice that it is certainly different from what it once was, but I'm rather used to areas changing over time. Though, I can't see any sign that this place somehow connected to the Magma Ocean for a period of time, so it does seem a little strange that everything here is now igneous rock.

Now that I'm here, glancing up the distant pit to the surface far above, I can't help but feel longing. I want to rise, but I know I shouldn't. I've already fulfilled my intent by bringing these sapients here; they should be able to climb this by themselves, shouldn't they?

My head twists back to inspect the five. Two have wings — even if artificial — so they should be fine, but the rest? Can they really climb up such a vertical wall without being able to fly or create bends to carry them up?

"Orm. I…" Ceph starts, but my hiss cuts her off.

"I will carry you up." And immediately my body grows again.

A little distraction isn't going to make me fail my mission. The Titans aren't going anywhere. Besides, I'm not done asking questions.

"Oh," Ceph says, suddenly relieved. That must be what she was worrying about; a way to climb out. I'm happy it isn't anything worse. "Thank you."