My question was not immediately answered. Just when I was about to give up the question and leave my quarters, an almost hesitant message appeared.
[The Administrator answers: There is much I cannot currently say, little fang. Suffice to say that the slight understanding that you have gained regarding the inherent differences of castes does exist within the Keel. There… is much more to it than a mere social stratification, but as the System has given to you the title of the caste Zak'Tal, you can know that they made up the equivalent to the royal family of the Keel.]
Though I asked more questions about what exactly that meant, of what additional benefits would be given to a Zak'Tal as opposed to any other number of castes, of what demerits or difficulties would be given to a Zak'Tal, however many castes there were in total… but the Administrator and the [System] alike remained silent and unresponsive, uncaring of my curiosity. After my internal questions had long become naught more than an echoed memory within my mind, I knew that no more answers would come to me, at least not now.
I strode forward, about to exit my quarters once again, and I couldn't restrain my snort of frustration as another communication from the Administrator appeared before me.
[I can tell you this, though it is entirely unrelated to your previous queries: Most Titles are given through the agreement of two or more Administrators, and the bestowal of the Title Killer of Redael required the consensus of two or more Administrators. Five gave their consent, though all but me approved maliciously.]
Though I thought for a moment as the Administrator's words paused, I couldn't begin to understand why or how giving me a [Title] and additional stats could be malicious or in any way harmful. The Administrator continued, and though her words were communicated to me through writing and not her own voice, I could hear the fierce determination within her declaration.
[They mock you. They think that Redael was better than you, a stronger leader, a more natural guide with years of experience guiding and perfecting this swarm. Though those whelps do believe you could eventually grow into and fill his position, they think you will not have the opportunity to do so. They look down on you, and think you will grow complacent. Do not.]
Though my blood began pounding in my ears at the gall of these other Administrators, comparing me to Redael and considering him the superior being? I shook my head and couldn't help but ask–how was the Administrator telling me this? This information was much more detailed and immediately useful to me than knowing the different caste designations of the Keel.
[Were I not unbounded with respect to discussions regarding your need to flee the area, then I would not be able to speak with you so candidly at this time regarding these other Administrator's machinations.] Her contempt for these other Administrators, though not audible, was obviously dripping from her words. [However, you have asked System-granted questions to me regarding timelines of when to leave and to where, and thus my tongue is largely loosed when speaking about topics already broached. Though, this is a tangential topic, and I cannot speak any longer on it. Prove yourself, prove me.]
The Administrator's communications ended, and I got the firm impression that now, finally, she was actually done speaking with me. Just in time, I took several deep breaths and stopped myself from descending even deeper into a controlled rage at other supposedly intelligent Administrators and their obvious blindness. With a roll of my shoulders, I stood tall and strode forward out of my quarters and into the larger den.
Surrounding my personal quarters, dozens of keelish laid and lounged, waiting for me to exit, and Sybil was, of course, the first to notice my entrance. Before I could step closer and begin to speak to my assembled subordinates, she stepped to assume her usual position at my left hand.
"That was a short rest. Are you feeling wholly recovered? Vefir was concerned that you did not let him heal you before you went to rest, and I took the liberty of permitting him access to you while you slept." Sybil kept her voice low, though she sounded vaguely apologetic while she explained letting the healer look at my wounds. Internally, I cursed my recklessness, since though I hadn't received any real attacks, only my successful blocks, I had the obvious opportunity to make sure there were no hidden wounds, most especially since [Pain Tolerance] could potentially leave me thinking I was fine while a small wound festered. Beyond that, I needed to extend that trust to Vefir, as he, like Sybil, had no small amount of self-recrimination for his lack of battle prowess.
"I'll need to thank him for his attention. Will he be nearby after I meet with all these Alphas?"
"I can ensure that he will be." Sybil flared her frills in assent. As she prepared herself to turn away, a thought occurred to me, and I immediately reached out and grabbed her by the hand. Sybil, for her part, looked at me immediately, the faintest trace of alarm apparent in her body language as she looked for some hidden danger at my sudden movement.
"Where are our eggs?"
"Do you mean the remaining egg from Treel? It is where it has always been, though Vefir believes that the time for it to hatch is nearly upon us." Sybil's voice was level, though her confusion was obvious.
"No, I mean our eggs. Have you laid them yet?"
Sybil measured a look at me, until, after a pregnant moment's pause, my question finally made sense to her. "No, I have not laid any eggs." A faint hint of mirth shone behind her eyes, but my worry for our offspring continued to surge unabated within me.
"So do you know when you'll be laying them then? We won't have time to incubate them before we leave, so I don't know if they'll be able to stay viable. I don't know how much time an egg needs in the ground, or even within the mother, and–"
With a gentle bunt of her head against my chest, Sybil interrupted me, and I could hear the quiet sounds of laughter echoing up from my chest where Sybil still leaned against me. "What?"
"My mate, I was never gravid. I did not mate with you with the intention of laying any eggs at this time."
"You… did I do something wrong?" Though I'd never expected to feel like this as a keelish, I supposed that the fear of disappointing your lover was universal, human or otherwise.
"Ashlani," Sybil's words initially continued to carry the signs of her quiet mirth, but swiftly settled into a tender but firm tone, "fertile eggs do not result from every mating. I did not lay with you with the intention of creating life with you, though if I did lay your children, I would not lament that. But, as of yet, we have no eggs."
Of course. After the initial worry of trying to carry incubating eggs for hundreds of miles and trying to keep them viable and alive for all that time had faded, I realized that, of course. I clenched my jaw, fighting to hide the surging embarrassment and linked anger from my own foolhardy rush to conclusions. "Thank you. Please stay close enough to hear my commands." I leapt to the next subject, wishing to leave behind my embarrassment and Sybil had the good grace to follow my command.
Now, with my goal fixated once again on our inevitable escape from this area, away from any additional distractions, I channeled sonic magic to my throat and set my voice to echoing through the chamber, the assembled Alphas already listening and ready for my address.
"Our next goal… is escape from the humans' lands."