Kin of Jörmungandr

The way the hundred or so sciacylch gather to bend a small section of wall into a dozen platforms which they can hang from is quite the sight. Not to mention all is hidden within folded space. The rock itself doesn’t bend or grow, it’s simply the space subsuming it that morphs to these little creature’s will. In a region that should only hold a single of their kind, they can make room for ten.

As I approach, all the bats flee within the safety of their little hole away from the world. A tight squeeze for all of them; apparently they’ve not had enough time to warp it to the standard of their previous nest.

I’m sure the sciacylch know it was me that protected them from their direct predator, and yet they hide. It doesn’t bother me. This is how the weak should act; treat the strong as if they shall eat you at any moment. This is how all creatures act.

But it does make Scia’s actions all that more confusing. None of her kin are as foolish as her. She truly is an anomaly.

Unable to hold herself back, Scia leaps from my scales and blinks to the folded space.

I keep my distance, unwilling to send the colony into any more of a panic.

Scia folds space around her, sliding into the hidden nest. Immediately, she is surrounded by dozens of chirping sciacylch. They sniff at her, climbing over one another to greet her as she hangs between them, screeching out rapid greetings.

As the bats congregate around the newcomer, I find I don’t know what to do with myself. Another strange emotion filters through the others. I want to rush up to them and remain in Scia’s proximity, but at the same time, getting between her and her kin is the last thing I want to do. In my indecision, I slither at the peripheral of the chamber they’ve set their nest in.

Scia chirps rapidly, sniffing each of the other bats as they do the same to her. She happily greets all of those around her. Not once does she look back at me.

She is happy.

I turn. Ignoring each of the images reflected through spatial bends, I move off. Each slither is slow, as if to avoid attracting attention.

This is for the best. For both of us. She gets to live amongst a colony of her species again, safe, while I can take the opportunity to search beyond the Pressurised Depths.

This is how it should be. What kind of apex predator allows a creature too weak to be considered prey to follow it around, anyway? Maybe at some time in the future I’ll return, see Scia again… or the generation she leaves behind.

This is the only option. Scia will eventually die, anyway, so it’s better she stay with the species with the same average life as her. They will look after each other. They will look after her.

I only wish we could have spent more time together.

A chirp snaps me from my mulling. Scia flies ahead of me, looking at me with an expression more conflicted than I’ve seen from her. I look around. Behind her, a dozen sciacylch peek out through the fold, but don’t fully remove themselves from their safe space.

Somehow, when I wasn’t paying attention, I accidentally returned to their cave. I’ve not made a mistake like that in my pathing since… well, ever.

As I stare into Scia’s wide eyes, I realise this is why I left. I couldn’t bear it. I can’t stare her in the eyes and accept that she doesn’t want to remain by my side. Better to depart while I can see she’s happy than to watch as she decides to leave me.

Scia, without any hesitation, dives into the scales between my eyes. She rubs the top of her head into mine.

I hate this. I know what she’s doing and I hate what it means. This is a farewell… one that I don’t want to be a part of. I don’t know how I went from hating her presence to never wanting her to leave, but this is too difficult.

Why is it this hard? I am a predator. An apex of near-on any ecosystem I find myself in. Nothing but the absolute strongest beasts in the world can dare compete with my being… and yet this simple farewell is too difficult for me?

The crash of so many conflicting emotions presses down on my body. Nothing is wrong with me, but I cannot move. I want to run and avoid this last meeting. I want to snatch Scia up and never let her go. But a part of me also despises those options. It refuses to accept the weakness they present. I am an apex, so I should act like it.

Against the conflict writhing through me, I bring up the tip of my tail and pat the little bat. So small, so weak. This is all I can do without hurting Scia. I don’t want her to leave, but I cannot be so weak as to avoid it.

Scia chirps under my touch and leans into my tail, obviously enjoying the petting. After I start, I cannot pull away. I know that when it ends, our time will end, so I keep slowly stroking the thin fur along the back of her head.

But unfortunately, that time soon runs out. Scia leans away from my touch, her eyes smile at me, and she chirps. This is the part where I leave. Scia has found her family, and I have no place amongst them.

Once again, I turn away.

Scia blinks upon my back, the same place as always. I halt my retreat, staring confused at the bat that grips at my scales. She chirps at the half dozen sciacylch peeking out from the folded space, flapping her wings before turning back to me with an expectant look.

Did I… mistake the situation?

Is she not actually leaving me… or is this a final ride before we leave? I hope she doesn’t drag this painful separation out any longer than it needs to. I'm not sure how I’ll handle it.

I slither forward, taking a path that will drag us as far from the sciacylch colony as quickly as possible. Not once does she look back. Never does she show an inkling that she doesn’t want to stick to me.

I was mistaken.

She would prefer to stay with me, even over her own kind.

Suddenly, I snap forward, eliciting a squeak from Scia. An immense wave of relief and joy flood my body. A complicated mix of emotions that feel good, and only good. I weave through bends and holes with vigour, unable to suppress the immense energy these unfamiliar emotions fill me with.

Scia clings tight as I whip my tail against myself, accelerating further. I was wrong. I made a mistake. And I’ve never been happier.

It’s inexplicable. The urge to just move overwhelms me. And so I do. I throw myself through holes and bends at an excessive clip. Scia shrieks and clings tight to my scales, but she never tries to leave. No matter how far we travel, she never shows the slightest inclination of wanting to go back.

It wasn’t just a temporary thing. Scia didn’t just cling to me because she had nowhere else to go; she stayed by my side because she wanted to. The option to return to the safety of a colony was right there for her to take, but she didn’t. Scia chose me.

Not long ago, I would consider myself insane for reacting this way. How could I consider a diminutive creature wanting to stick with me as something worth celebrating? The very thought of it goes in the face of laws of nature.

Laws that I’m only just discovering aren’t as absolute as I’d always pictured.

Scia is an anomaly. That is an undisputed fact. But I’m growing to find that her anomalousness is not inherently bad. In fact, if it wasn’t for her strangeness and deviation from what is natural, never would I have come to care. Her insistence, in the face of the way things should be, is the only reason I feel this way.

If not for Scia, I never would have experienced this positive side of the complex emotions that sapience had to load me with. It is not all negative, as I had first assumed. Maybe… maybe I wouldn’t give them up. If the option presented itself, I wouldn’t return to the way I used to be.

I finally slow to a more sedate pace, engulfed by a sense of satisfaction despite the waste of energy. Scia cheers, obviously having enjoyed the ride.

With her by my side, there will be no searching the Crippling Depths or Magma Ocean… but I find that doesn’t bother me. I’ll find a way beyond, or I won’t. For now, I’ll settle with taking my time. I can keep up my search passively, while assuring the safety of my little passenger.

My mind set, I alter my course for the Wind Channels. They aren’t so dangerous, assuming you keep away from the direct streams, but they are the best option. I’d given up on them when I was impatient, but I am far calmer now than previously. I can wait, no matter how long it’ll take to find a path.

A strange feeling of satisfaction with the world settles over me. It’s not like the active positive emotions that have flooded my mind after Scia chose to stay with me, but rather a satiation that can at best be compared to a full stomach. I am happy with the world as it is, and there is a hope that things will stay as they are for a long time.

I reach two holes in space. One will take me to the wind border, where I can begin my search. The second takes us to somewhere completely different; a cave somewhere far from any of the borders I’m trying to travel beyond.

Scia barks a high-pitched squeak. Her head points through the hole that will take us nowhere.

Well, there’s no rush. A little deviation can’t hurt.