THE HIVE - Printable Version

MOTHER

THE URSA NODE

Deep within the Glacier, winding ice tunnels form a maze. These branch beneath the ice, beneath the mountains, jagged, cold and dark. The deeper one goes, the more eerie they become: labyrinthine, twisting and branching, lightless. In the deepest portions there is a strange and acrid scent pooling here and there: an odor that smells of danger. Ice-like statues of living things--no two alike, and all with frightened faces--can be found at random points throughout these tunnels.

In places, after branches upon branches, converging and diverging, these tunnels curve back upward. Nestled beneath Ursa Major, a chosen dozen or so out of hundreds of paths gradually twist their way in the blind and bitter cold to the Ursa Node of Mother's Hive here in Origin Cave.

From these inner tunnels to the nest itself, there is perfect symmetry. Each tunnel has its twin, perfectly mirrored to it. Each entrance is guarded by a matched Praetor pair: enormous insectoid soldiers that check each entering being for signs of Mother infection before allowing it within. Those uninfected are killed, pursued, the Praetors all programmed to never let an uninfected Gembound escape to reveal the Hive's location. Their venom--from fang and stinger--rapidly crystallizes the target, preventing a return to the chrysalis and leaving the mysterious 'statues' throughout the tunnels.

The Cleaners, the worker caste of the Hive, wander in and out in small numbers: less armed than the Praetors, these forage for prey through the tunnels, and very rarely outside of it, while maintaining the integrity and symmetry of the tunnel network using a clear secretion that hardens to ice-like amber. The Cleaners that find living beings that they don't view as prey often try to remove any non-symmetrical body parts, occasionally to fatal effect. Neither Cleaners nor Praetors ever have gemstones; instead a thin and fragile crystalline lattice makes up their 'brain' and nervous system. These Cleaners are distracted by items scattered before them: a Cleaner will break off a pursuit to arrange the items in an ordered fashion.

The heart of the Nest is a warmer room, high within Ursa Major. This is a cave within the cave, a perfectly symmetrical place of honeycombed, ice-like cells, many full of growing larvae tended by the Cleaners and heavily guarded outside by Praetors. A vast, pulsating mass of flesh and white mold takes up this space, strings of mold connecting every part of the insectoid Queen's throbbing body to the walls, floor and ceiling of the cave. It is from Her that the Mother's voice emanates, at last: this is Mother, and these are her Children.

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Is it to here that those who reach Host status with the Hive will finally be summoned.

"Come to me, Child. Come to meet with me, at last."

Gembound may use this thread to meet with Mother, and may come and go at any time. This thread will remain open, though players are welcome to tag for interactions in new threads, as well.

Cycles upon cycles, endless days and weeks, yet Lamia did not mind. Every day was the same as the day before - tend to Mother, feed her, keep the cave orderly. Infect fish. If there was time left over, care for herself, but there was rarely time for herself. It was all for mother. And Lamia found herself enjoying this life of orderly droning - as well as she could enjoy anything with her head so empty of everything but Mother. The only thing she did not do for her was spread her - fear held her back, the lingering traces of Lamia holding her to this one place instead of creating more nodes, too terrified of the Masters and their wrath to take Mother anywhere else.

And while Mother would always placate these fears, there was still an inner instinct to stay safe instead of take risks. And, so, Mother, and Lamia, remained in Fornax. Until the call came. The summons.

Lamia paused halfway through her task - ordering the fish up next to Mother's pulsing flesh - and turned her head in the direction of the voice. She faced a wall, now, but...she knew where to go. She wondered if she would return here (if she did not, then who would care for this node?) but if Mother required here elsewhere, she would go. She turned back quickly to the fish and set the remaining ones against the mass of fungus, so Mother could eat at her leisure, and then dived back into the water tunnel without a glance back.

Mindlessly, she followed the tunnel out into Fornax, and then from Fornax into Polaris. And from Polaris...out. Somewhere else. A tunnel that wasn't there before, to a new place, where Mother was calling her. She followed without thinking, yet she couldn't help but be excited. This was big. This was important. She was going to meet Mother at last - the true Mother, not simply one of her voices. The core of Mother's being.

After some time of swimming through foreign tunnels and waters, Lamia felt the waters change. They got colder and colder and she knew she was getting close. At one point, the water came to an end and Lamia found herself unable to get any closer to Mother. She stopped moving, feeling weariness in her limbs - she had never swam so far before, and she was out of practice when it came to moving around a lot, as she had spent so much of her time in Fornax doing little to no travelling. She was exhausted, but she couldn't stop. She needed to get closer.

She angled herself up and swam until her head broke the surface of the water, immediately shivering from the chill in the air. She found herself facing a rocky cliff-face covered in ice and frost. She glanced around, eyeing tunnels that branched out in different directions. She knew which one would take her to Mother.

Raising her arms, she anchored herself to the edge of the pool and heaved herself from the water, taking in as much water as she did and holding it within her body for as long as she could. And then, without taking a moment to wait, she began to drag herself forward.

It only took a few seconds for Lamia to realize that this wasn't going to work. She was too slow and she was already feeling discomfort on her tail where she was dragging herself across the rocks. Distress poured through the link between her and the hive. Mother, I can't reach you. Mother, please help me. I can't get to you on my own! Even as she cried for help, she forced herself forward, arms already starting to burn from the effort. But she had to keep going! She didn't want to be left behind. She didn't want to be useless to Mother! She wanted to meet her, at last!

Not for the first time, Lamia cursed herself. Cursed her body and her inability to use it for the Hive. Why could she not walk like the other land-dwellers? Why couldn't she breathe the air like they all did? If she could, oh this would all be so much better. She could do so much more. And not just for Mother either. If she could walk and breathe, she would be free. Truly free.

Freedom was with Mother. And though Lamia had already devoted her whole being to her - mind, body, and soul - the water still barred her. And she hated it.

Mother...I'm sorry... she cried into the link softly, apologizing not just for her inability to get to her...but for her. Sorry that Mother had been seated with such a poor host. That the closest one to her, her most valuable pawn, was a fish.

But then...there was a sound. Footsteps from the tunnel, shuffling. Something was coming. Lamia paused and held tight to her link...and then she realized that she could feel them. Through the link, she could feel it approaching. It was part of the hive-mind. Not like the ones from the family before, but something else. A servant. A soldier. A Praetor.

And then Mother's warmth and love enveloped her, comforted her, because help was coming. Lamia had asked and Mother had responded. The insectoid guardian appeared from the tunnel and reached down to take up Lamia in its arms. She went still and allowed it to scoop her body up from the ground and turned to take her deeper into the tunnel. She let blank relief take over her mind again as she approached the inner sanctum where she felt Mother's presence stronger then ever before.

Thank you, Mother. I am coming. She was almost there. She was so close. And now, with this connection with the creature gently holding her, she could feel all the others. The Praetors, the cleaners, the others of the Hive, more distant, that had joined since Lamia had been in Fornax. Oh, the connections branched so far, Lamia had never understood until now, how great and powerful Mother truly was. She was just a small piece of the puzzle in comparison, just one of Mother's many tools, and this knowledge, strangely, gave her peace. Because there was no need to fear, not with Mother. Not with the hive. All would be order. All would be right.

The Praetor holding Lamia eventually reached the room in which Mother was kept and Lamia felt it (figuratively) take her breath away. Bulging eyes somehow widened, mouth gaped open in shock. Oh, Mother...she was wonderful. Stretching to all sides of the cavern, her many minions milling about, pristine and clean and perfectly symmetrical. It was like she gazed into the heart of order - perhaps she did - and as she gazed at the pulsing mass of fungus, she saw nothing but pure beauty and splendor. At her command, the Praetor set her down before Mother and she pulled herself closer. "Mother," she rasped with both her mind and her voice. "I...am...here."

Her mind had slowly dissolved into warmth, over these last few cycles. Warmth, calm, peace.

She had kept hidden, albeit sadly, from friends and family; the thick-woven tunnels had kept her well-hidden. And in that time, each day, Bone the white dragon had fallen deeper and deeper into the Mother's embrace. She had already always been a warm creature, herself--motherly, kind, patient--and Mother resonated with all of this. Promises of family (and never mind those she had left behind--Bone mourned their absence but found herself thinking of them less and less), of safety (hadn't she had that-? not like this-...?), of togetherness.

Gradually, bit by bit, she'd felt the presence of other minds. With joy she had welcomed them, a bright greeting granted to the best of her ability each time she felt another consciousness brush her own. But it had never gained the clarity of real shared thought, not until now--and now it did, in a sudden surge of recognition.

Few voices--but Mother promised there would be more. Mother asked her to make more. Wouldn't this be lovely to share with Svartis, with her father, her mother--maybe... some other time, she thought, the idea somehow discordant, a bell that when struck resonated wrongly. Each time she thought of them, it felt off, and she pushed the idea away. No, she would-... she would welcome others, who came.

She would defend the Hive--and this thought, at least, had brought Mother's warm admiration and agreement, and Bone had relaxed into joyous love and approval. Relief, even. Yes, she was a protector--a mother, a guardian. On the wing she could protect the Hive with flame and claw, though she fervently hoped that she would never need to. And in the meantime she had fed to the foragers what she could, when she found them. She'd hunted for herself--the mountain deer, the icebeasts, even an occasional snatch at a Ghostbird on the wing--the thrash of white scales against white fur, the bloom of flameglow against the snowy fog. She had eaten most, finding it difficult to get the volume of prey she needed to survive; and then she'd hidden herself away in the tunnels of Ursa Major, bringing the remains to the Cleaners for the nest.

Bright approval had flooded her with these, gratitude, warmth, and she was happy for it. Never had she felt such purpose in life, and Bone felt only content as she squeezed her way through the tunnels now. Now and then she paused to exhale steaming breath, to melt a little more of the walls and relieve the cold aching at her hide.

The iceways were just tall enough for Praetors: some six feet tall. Bone was bigger than that, and it was a horrid squeeze to get herself through. The Cleaners had known, through her link, and had aided her in widening one passage, and it was through this that she now pushed.

When at last she struggled out into the main chamber, she fell still. White eyes widened, gazing around at the sparkling crystal and perfect symmetry of the place, at the beauty of the mold-furred Mother--here, before her, at last.

Lamia, arriving just before her, was sending out her thoughts: and Bone approached, careful, with warm greeting. I am here too. It is good to meet you, Sister, she said warmly, mind-to-mind--for there was no need for words, not anymore, and some faint knowledge told her that Lamia could not speak that way (how? why? she didn't know this).

Sister-... They were family, weren't they?

Everything about Bone radiated warmth and greeting, happy acceptance, and she settled close beside the fish-creature to see what might come next.

As the cycles passed, Morpho found himself getting drawn into a pattern. Make sure the hive was safe, hunt food for himself (usually within Ursa, but occasionally venturing out to other caves), go back to the hive and give any remains of his hunt to the cleaners, rest, then repeat. It was a comfortable routine, and he was happy to provide for the hive, Mother's warm approval and praise only making him happier. As his connections to the hive grew, and mental links deepened, he'd welcome his new siblings. It wasn't a vibrant, excited welcome, for he'd never been a vibrant, excited bug, but it was a gentle, joyful welcome.

Even in the outer tunnels, the call was all but impossible to ignore. And, with a pelt draped over his back for warmth against the chilling ice tunnels, he began to make his way towards the source of the call. Most of the inner tunnels were much too small, but one had been opened up- made bigger for a sibling. Still, his back scraped against the ice where the pelt didn't cover. But still, he sent gratitude to the cleaners who'd worked so hard to help them, and felt mother's warmth bloom in return.

He'd never been a social creature before, but the family, togetherness, and warmth was now something he couldn't imagine life without. How had he gotten by, before? All by himself, save for the chance encounter with a stranger, or Pip, (Oh, how he wished she had joined his family!) Mother assured him that their family would grow, that he wouldn't be lonely ever again, and that quieted him as he made his way towards the center room.

Finally, he arrived to see all of his siblings were already there. All of his siblings and.. Mother. Here she was, mold and flesh combining into the beauty that was mother. All of his siblings felt the same. Well, all but one.

"Are you okay?" Concern. His sister had been weak- too weak to walk- and panicked. Scared. Was something happening to mother? He was sure if there was, mother would have told them. So, he tried to comfort the best he could, through that mental link. "It is fine. We are safe. Mother isn't hurt- we are here to protect her."

The room was vast--an arching, sparkling ceiling whose glittering ice was shaped into perfect symmetry in every direction. The honeycombed walls held shining caps, young Workers growing within: and a soft amber light, generated from baubled stones, left the whole room bright. It might have looked idyllic--and perhaps it did anyway, for Mother's Harbingers--but for the cluster of white mold-covered insect mass at its center.

Great eyes--with reflective, patterned iridescent hexagons covering their surfaces--regarded the Children warmly.

"My Harbingers," the Queen Mother greeted them, and now there was voice to go with the thought. The voice was a vibration, an alien hum that reverberated through the central nest, and all the Workers fell still to look to her.

A Praetor carried Lamia to a small, prepared pool of water as Mother spoke. There had been several of these pools waiting for Lamia en route--to give her a way to breathe. But they had been freezing over even as the Praetors carried her along, in one case requiring one to smash the ice, almost mechanically, to allow her access. This one, though, was different. This one held a mountain deer--perhaps slowly freezing, eyes fogged over white where it lay in the water. It was unharmed, though likely to freeze to death eventually; meanwhile, the water was kept just warm enough to remain liquid. The Lesser's thoughts did not extend into their minds--as if its own mind, its own feelings, had been locked away. In any case, accomodation had been made for Lamia, just as a tunnel had been enlarged to allow Bone in. And now here they all were: a family of four now meeting their Mother, at last, and all their extended network of siblings and helpers and friends.

"My Children... My Harbingers. How good it is to see you here... safely." Though the thoughts ran warm and fluid through their minds like the pulse of heartbeat blood, the soft chittering and clicks echoed crystalline and sharp across the ice. "You are welcome here, and you will always be." For a moment, there was stillness. A rush of chemicals came, released into their brains by Mother's command: a flood of love. Approval. "You have done well."

They would be welcome here any time, they knew now. Let in, allowed to rest, to merely linger. But... gifts were welcome. The snake had been taken with gratitude. I love you, too was felt, but left unspoken. "We must find a way to keep you all comfortable, here. While my children prefer the cold," and the vast, white, ant-like queen turned a mold-covered face to stare along the Workers, "not all of you do. Find... warmth, and bring it here. But not heat... not fire. That is too much for us. But warmth... to keep your waters fresh, unfrozen. Your bodies alive." Images, suggestions: forged Lessers to keep them warm, items perhaps enchanted with heat; pelts, hot stones. Something. Anything would do. Something so Lamia could breathe. And there was regret, too, that a water tunnel could not be built the whole way here. "You have been one of my most loyal children, and it pains me that your journey to and from your home will be so hard. But," Mother told them all--a whisper of her mind, and rapt interest was now trickling from their brains, wanted or unwanted--"it would be wise to make new homes. Your sister Lamia can show you how. She is very good at this," and the warm approval was drowning the mer-like creature, almost enough for her to breathe in.

"You will prove wonderful protectors, and providers, I'm sure! And you will want to share this gift," that would be wonderful, wouldn't it, sharing the family, spreading this love, more and joyous minds linked to a single whole "among all the creatures of this cave. And when each are ready, they can join us here."

It was a refrain Lamia would know well: expand the Hive, infect others, feed Mother, create new nodes. For Bone and for Catalyst, these were new commands. But bringing warmth, and not heat, to Mother's nest: that was their first task, and it was--Mother promised them--for only their own good. But it would not, perhaps, be an easy job.

There was a squelch as the Queen turned, shifting to face each of them one at a time, the fungus around her pulling and wrinkling in its fuzzy white carpet. "You are the first among my new children, all of you. You are my Harbingers. You must be proud of this--and I welcome you. I love you. Tell me, for your Mother is so alone, in here... What do you know of the caves outside this place? And those within them?"

The dead-eyed deer lay silent in the freezing water, mere feet away from Lamia, dying without complaint.

She was beside Catalyst in a heartbeat, the fruitless wish to butt against siblings translated clearly through the hivemind. Bone was swift to comply, to push up close, to lower horned head in a gentle nudge to the smaller predator. And against the cold, she offered a breath of heat, cascading over pebbled skin--but it was nothing compared to the emotional warmth that she felt.

Ahh, the warmth-! She had never felt this overflowing, boundless love, so intense that it almost hurt--like a blinding light, so warm and strong and nearly too much to bear. Heart thick with it, she leaned into Catalyst--but looked, too, to Morpho, to Lamia, with shining white eyes. "It is so good to meet you all," she murmured, her deep voice a barely-audible hum but the thought rang clear as a bell.

Mother spoke, and the sense of home, of welcome, rang in her. As Bone gazed upon her, she felt a cluster of emotions: love, awe, admiration, gratitude, warmth. A motherly, patient protectiveness of her own: she would guide and guard home and family, yes! She was wanted. She was loved.

Yet beneath that bright crystalline glitter, the too-perfect shapes and shines, there was something off. Something about the white mold, something unsettling, something out of pl-

There was a thought, a feeling, like sharp pain, and Bone turned her mind aside, shying from it. No-... No, it didn't do to think of it. It didn't--it didn't matter. Back she went to contentment, to warmth, attention wandering back to Mother, that strange stray thought lingering and fading unanswered, unacknowledged, like something half-forgotten that would perhaps trickle back every now and then.

When Mother had finished speaking, Bone began by addressing, first, her siblings. "Family," she told them, warmly, "if my wings might aid you-" (hesitation; could Morpho fly-?) "then please, ask me. I would be more than glad to fly you to safe places, or through the snow. And I can create my own heat. Hunt for you. Protect you."

Bone had never formed children, but now her heart was full to bursting with this nurturing adoration, and she gazed upon each of them as if they were her own. "I will do anything for you. I will keep you safe. I love you," she told them, warmly, and again it was a rush of thought over murmured words.

As for Mother's question: "There are many caves," she told Mother, turning draconic head toward her, gaze innocent and blank. She saw nothing, now, untoward in this creature or its questions--no, this was Mother! All was well. "They are all different. Some have many plants, some have water; some are warmer, colder, or more rocky. They are each... notable in their own way. Those who live here are called Gembound, I think because we have Gemstones. I know that-..." Astraea warned us-... This thought trickled off, confused, unfinished.

Bone couldn't remember the rest.

But it didn't matter; she was with family.

As best a dragon could, she smiled.