Ashlani’s Reincarnation [a LitRPG Adventure]

We permitted their passage. After all, it is our right to dictate who passes through our land. Though you are the Inkulu, you are not in control of the Republic. You must worry only for your own askari, and we will worry for our own. Next time you have some complaint about what the Yegolide do within our pastures, bring it to me, not to a child. You know as well as I that the Indlovu do not forget.

-letter from Qaqambi of the Yegolide to Silumkulo of the Inkulu

Focusing on the reality that I could only grow stronger and raise my pack to be as well to combat this possibility, I immediately pulled myself from my ruminations and looked across the keelish spread out in the den, coming down from the influence of Nievtala. My most trusted, Sybil, Took, Treel, Foire, and Vefir, were still nearby and beginning to leave to their own devices. The rest of the pack looked to those I trusted, ready to follow their orders, whatever they were. With a flash of inspiration, I called out while the whole pack remained within earshot,

“Everyone, listen.” Immediately, the pack went silent and attentive, and I felt a swelling of appreciation for this loyal group I’d managed to create. Somehow, I stood at the head of this pack, and it was time I started to do everything I could to earn that. “For the next day, we will all stay here unless I say otherwise, and I’ll speak to each of you. I am going to give you suggestions for how to become… more than you already are. If you come to me willing to learn, I will teach you. I will show you how to grow.”

Having said that, I nodded, looked across the gathering until I picked out Silf, and called him forward. Hesitant for some reason, he approached. 

“Alpha.” He nodded in greeting, but seemed nervous, and I was sure he was as he continued to keep his head down.

“Silf.” After I spoke, silence remained between us, and I could feel the expectant eyes of the rest of the pack on us. I could feel he wanted to say something, and simply waited for him to speak. After a moment of gathering his thoughts and courage, he finally looked up into my eyes.

“Why me?”

“Why you what?” I felt I understood what he was saying, but wanted to force him to speak his mind.

“Why do you help me?” As one of the less developed members of the pack, I could tell he struggled with the sentence, but I flared my frills in understanding and acknowledgement.

“Why wouldn’t I?” As Silf cocked his head, confused, I continued, “You are one of mine. I want you to be as strong as Took, as smart as Sybil, as fast as Foire and with magic like Vefir’s. I will do whatever I can to help you and every one of the pack to become better than any one of us are now.” Silf looked at me, almost spellbound as his tail flicked in interest and general agitation. I could feel, through my too-long neglected [Evolutionary Guide] [Skill], that Silf’s trust in me immediately swelled and I gained a greater insight into what he was and what more he yet could become. 

I couldn’t see anything like a [Status] for him, but I could feel his possibilities spread before me. He wasn’t magically talented, not even to Foire’s level, much less like Sybil or Vefir. I could feel, however, that he had some level of understanding how to blend in naturally. We all did, but I could feel that if he worked with Foire in scouting and approaching potential prey, he would find himself able to become a skilled ambusher. Without thinking too much about it, I called Foire, and he immediately approached.

“Teach him how to hide in the brush. He’ll learn very quickly, and I can feel he’ll be better suited to ambushing than merely attacking.” Silf’s body tensed as I gave the command, and I turned back to him, “Did you already feel that way?”

His jaw hanging slightly open, he flared his frills in assent. I smiled and sent the two off into a corner with a brief request that they wait until I see if any others should go with them. Then, feeling a bit more excitement from the pack as a whole, I called Solia forward. Immediately, and without any of the hesitation or fear that Silf had exhibited, she stepped in front of me and happily settled onto her haunches in front of me. 

Again, the uncanny feeling of understanding swept through me, and without conscious thought I closed my eyes and rested one hand upon her head. She went completely still and I was surprised to feel a hint of magical talent pulsing within her. Was it… healing? No, too aggressive. Too… warm. Flames? But how? Without opening my eyes, I asked, “Were you ever shocked by one of the wolfstags?”

I could faintly feel one of her frills moving, perhaps in assent, but before I could continue, Solia’s flustered voice piped up, “Um, yes. Both times. It hurt, but I was ok.” As she spoke, I imagined I could smell the burning of her flesh, the singed scales, the heat.

“How did it feel?”

“It… hurt?”

Strangely, I didn’t feel even a flash of frustration with her inane question, only an almost sage level of patience and understanding. “Yes, and what else?”

“Um… it was… active? Or just weird?” I flared my frills for her to continue, “And hot. It burned.”

“Yes!” I cut in. “Tell me about the burn. Describe it. Help me to feel it.”

“The worst burn was my tail. It bit me, and from its fangs it kept burning me. I could smell my scales. It was gross. My tail couldn’t move after, until Vefir helped. Even then, it hurt to touch, even the wind on it hurt. Laying down was bad, because something was always touching it.”

In a flash, I opened my eyes. I could see that Solia was in a sort of trance as she spoke about it. I leaned close, not too close, but asked in a near-whisper, “Show me the burning.”

Without thinking, she pointed to her tail, and, for a moment, at the tip of her finger, there was a flash of heat before nothing. At that, Solia was shaken from herself and looked up at me.

“What was that?”

I felt the grin crack my face, excited at the visible proof of my guidance. “That was you. For now, stay close to me.” As she flared her frills and looked at her hand in amazement, I looked across the pack at fifty shocked faces.

“Katre, you’re next.”

Thanks for reading!

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