The solemn procession marched towards the Grand Chamber of the Queen-Mother, punctuated by the sounds of sniffling and sobbing.
The body of Igvan Voriszich, a well-loved Elder Shaman of the humans of Seaspyre lay on a bed of ice that was in turn placed on a cart made from repurposed Formic carapace. The twin lines of Formic drones that pulled the cart forward steadily did so with little strain as their dog-sized, six-legged forms were used to lifting objects several times their body weight. The twelve that were assigned to this task served more of a ceremonial role to honour Igvan’s memory and contribution to the growth and prosperity of Seaspyre.
Following closely behind the cart was Pyotryna, Igvan’s only daughter. She wore an armored black overcoat made from a mix of Formic soldier carapace fragments and silk spun by Formic worker drones weaved together by skilled Haar’thon tentacles. That overcoat and its variants were worn by the initiates of the Shamanic Order that act as mediators between the Formics and the peoples of Seaspyre.
Around her, she could see many of her fellow initiates, all younglings from the various groups that inhabit Seaspyre. Among them were Aethris, an orange-coated Felicid, walking to her left on all fours and Ruunk, a splotchy blue-purple Haar’thon floating by her right. They have known each other long before they were called upon by the Order to join as initiates. She was grateful that they could make the time to walk with her at her father’s funeral as initiates were often sent off on all manner of tasks all across the hive.
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It was not too long ago that Pyotryna’s mother had passed away from a rare illness that not even the Formics could treat. Her father was so distraught at the loss of his wife that he had contemplated leaving the Order and even Seaspyre altogether. Igvan had been by her side as much as his busy schedule as Shaman would allow but watching his beloved wife wither away over the course of a year was too much for him to bear. The Queen-Mother’s refusal to assimilate her mind upon her death from fear of being infected by her ailment had further broken Igvan’s spirit.
Pyotryna watched it all unfold but was unable to do anything. On one hand, she had been taught that as a citizen of Seaspyre, the interests of the hive and its peoples were more important than her own. Yet on the other, in her own grief, she understood her father’s anguish and his wish to leave everything behind. Her parents had spent many years helping to build Seaspyre as a safe-haven for all who sought it. The place just had too many memories of her mother in it.
She had tried to convince her father to stay. To see that Seaspyre was still their home but he was too far gone. His grief had turned to anger and resentment.
“Where were they when your mother was ill?”, he would often retort when Pyotryna would plead for him to reconsider his choice. She felt it was unfair for him to say that Seaspyre had abandoned them because many shown up to help them in their time of need. Neighbours helped care for her mother and kept her company when both Pyotryna and her father were away on their Shamanic duties. Even the Queen-Mother had sent royal jellies and healing fungi to help ease her pain.
The Order had also offered to relieve Igvan of his Shamanic duties so that he could take time off to grieve and recover, but he saw it as them cutting him off because they saw him as no longer fit to serve. It was that very same day that Igvan packed his belongings and left on his small fishing boat without telling a soul.
Later that evening a storm had hit the coast where Seaspyre was. By then, Pyotryna and the community had noticed that Igvan was missing and search parties were sent out to find him. Alas, the storm was too great and all they could do was retreat back into the safety of Seaspyre and wait for the storm to pass. Pyotryna waited resolutely at the gateway to the docks all through the night despite the lashing rain and howling winds drenching her. Her friends and neighbours tried to convince her to go home and rest but she was adamant about waiting for her father to return.
It was early morning, just before sunrise that Pyotryna collapsed from exhaustion.
She remembers awaking in her bed later in the day. Aethris was sound asleep on the couch beside her. She sat up and the sounds woke Aethris.
“Stay, rest. Ruunk out with search parties. Find Uncle Igvar.” he telepathically projected to her.
Aethris then went over to place a reassuring paw on her hand and offered her an awkward Felicid approximation of a human smile. She reached out and hugged him and began to bawl as she could no longer hold in the tide of emotions that had built up over the past day.
It was about noon that Ruunk returned. Behind him were most of the other Elder Shamans of the Order, their faces bearing great pain. She knew at that point that all was lost.
Her mind was drowned in all manner of mixed emotions. The anger at her father’s foolishness and selfishness. The overwhelming sorrow of losing another parent. The anguish of realising that she is now on her own, buffeted her.
She fell to her knees and cried. Her bitter tears drenching her like the storm that took her father from her.
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They entered the Grand Chamber and on the far end was the Queen-Mother, towering above all present. Only her front half was visible as her enormous abdomen extended into the adjacent Birthing Chamber where all Formics in Seaspyre are born.
The procession slowed down and eventually halted when the cart was manoeuvred in front of the Queen-Mother.
“We gather. Honour Igvan. Brave soul. Good father.”, projected the Queen-Mother to everyone but gestured with one of her antennae at Pyotryna at the last phrase.
“Wish could do more. Much sadness. Formic have limits. Not perfect. Still more to learn. Will do better. Honour all who sacrifice.“, continued the Queen-Mother. Many in the Chamber began to sob once more at that projection. They felt the regret that the Queen-Mother had projected along with the phrases.
“Let us. Take last look. Then. With Pyotryna permission. We begin.”, announced the Queen-Mother. Pyotryna felt her concern for Pyotryna’s well-being and she began to tear up.
Pyotryna took a few steps forward to stand beside the cart. Tears flowing anew. She held his hand one last time and retreated to the side so that the others may do the same.
Many if not most of the community showed up save for those who needed to keep watch or tend to the workings of the hive. Each taking a few moments to remember the face of Igvan the wise counsellor, the caring friend, the respected colleague, the firm judge and the loving father, broken by loss but still loved greatly.
After all had had their chance to see her father, she projected to the Queen-Mother. “Let us begin.”
The Queen-Mother stooped down to the cart and opened her mandibles. Long, slick tendrils slid out of her mouth and gently enveloped Igvan’s body. The whole mass of tendrils then retreated back into her immense maw and she closed her mandibles.
Those present waited for a few moments as the Queen-Mother ingested a new mind into herself.
Suddenly, the Queen-Mother jerked forward. Scarring some of those in attendance. She then emitted a psychic wave of great sadness throughout the Chamber. Many broke down weeping, including Pyotryna.
“Sorry. Friends. Pyotryna. My love. I was selfish. I forgot. I was blind. Sadness, too strong. Loss too great. But. Now remember. Thank you. Help me. Help Reina. Help Pyotryna. Not long left. Merge soon. Thank you all. Love you Pyotryna. Goodbye”, projected what was left of Igvan in rapid-fire speed through the Queen-Mother.
“It is done. Igvan is one with us.”, concluded the Queen-Mother.
Author's Note:
This was my attempt at creating something a bit more biopunk in nature.
Hope you enjoy this one. 😊
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