Chapter 2940 - Chry 155

Ruminominex is a creature of change and flux. The Shaper of Earth creates and destroys in a constant cycle, guided only by her own inexplicable design.

There are some who suspect the Ancient is an elemental of stone or earth, but the cultists who worship her do not believe so. In their dreams, they have caught glimpses of Ruminominex through the ever-shifting mountains in which she makes her home and describe her as a sturdy, dense, animal-like creature, with skin that shifts and changes, flowing like water just as the mountain around her does.

When she surfaced, Ruminominex found her way to a mountain range, which promptly collapsed, only to be remade according to the Ancient's wishes. The Ancient's Spear is how the range is now known, though most have no idea why. How they explain away the pillar-like mountain, easily twice as tall as the next highest, I have no idea.

-Excerpt from 'Collective Wisdom of the Cults' by Granin Lazus

"Look down there," the scout said, keeping her scent as light as possible. "Do you see?"

"I do," Bella whispered back.

These tunnels were far from the mountain nest of the Colony, right on the edges of the territory they had claimed. Barely patrolled and not fully explored, they were dangerous in the extreme, filled with powerful monsters who looked to reestablish their territories after the wave had died down, but there were other perils lurking as well.

In the distance, barely visible at all to her ant eyes, Bella could see a group moving cautiously, sticking to cover as much as they could while advancing deeper into the land of the Colony. A mix of well armed and armoured Folk and golgari were moving together as a group. It was clear that these people were experienced delvers.

"See their odd movements? There's definitely a sixth member, but we can't see them with the naked eye," the scout told her, and Bella nodded to show her acknowledgement.

Thankfully, a core shaper like her had ways to overcome her own weaknesses. With a mental command, she urged her loyal pet Hooticus to investigate. Originally a Razorbeak Shadow Owl, Hooticus had been modified by combining the original core with that of a Haptofowl, an eight-eyed, flightless bird from the first stratum that relied on its extremely keen senses to stay alive.

Floating on soundless wings, her pet flitted from shadow to shadow, melting into the darkness as it drifted closer. While it was still hundreds of metres away, Hooticus was able to confirm the scout's suspicions.

"They've concealed themselves from sight, hidden their heat signature, muffled their sound and masked their mana," Bella noted softly, and the scout waggled her antenna in exasperation.

Going so far to try and remain hidden… just who was this shy guest in the Colony's lands?

Despite all the precautions they'd taken, they hadn't succeeded in hiding their shadow, and it was this little pocket of energy that Hooticus had picked up on. With so little information, she still wasn't able to identify them, and that was precisely the reason she had come all the way out here.

"They're coming deeper. We need to pull back," the scout told her, and Bella agreed.

Ordering Hooticus to keep an eye on the invaders whilst keeping himself concealed, she retreated further into the tunnels, doing her best to follow the scout's lead. So far from the Colony and without support, she had to rely on her pets to keep her safe, but there was no guarantee they would be able to defeat some of the deadly monsters roaming these tunnels.

Remaining hidden was the safest bet, so they kept low and out of sight as much as possible while Bella received a steady stream of updates from Hooticus.

As expected, the delvers had shown themselves to be capable. They fought when they had to, avoided any other conflict and continued to make their way deeper into the tunnels. Just what were they here for? The scouts had reported seeing several of these delver groups sniffing around starting two weeks after the wave receded, yet it still wasn't known why.

At first, the Council had thought it was simply a matter of delvers plumbing the Dungeon for wealth and experience, as they always did. Yet these groups behaved oddly. They didn't fight that much, concentrating more on covering ground than defeating monsters. They didn't bother to fully harvest the monsters they did defeat, which was highly unusual for delvers. Lastly, there was the secret of the hidden person smuggled into every group. After failing to identify the invisible tagalong, Bella had been called in to investigate. Only scouts and core shapers were allowed to range this far from the nest, and the scouts had repeatedly failed, despite their best efforts.

The ants tailed the delvers for hours, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. After fighting and sneaking their way through the tunnels, doing their best not to draw attention, the delvers decided to establish a base camp. Using various methods of concealment, they pitched their tents, laid out their supplies and made themselves comfortable.

Clearly, they intended to be in these tunnels for an extended period.

The camp itself was almost as well hidden as the secretive figure, invisible to the eye, all signs of mana erased, and yet, the hidden person still didn't reveal themselves.

Bella didn't have a choice, she would have to use desperate measures.

Reaching into the bag slung beneath her carapace, she withdrew a glass cylinder.

"Stand back," she warned the scout.

Inside, a small creature could be seen, wiggling happily as she lovingly tapped the glass with her antennae.

The Thought Leech was native to the fifth stratum, but this one was modified. Normally, the parasite was able to hunt by homing in on the thoughts of their targets, helping them find more intelligent monsters with larger brains.

This little one was different. It didn't eat brains, but thoughts.

Hooticus returned, swooping down on silent wings before picking up the cylinder and flying away. After thirty tense minutes, the owl returned, dropping the leech, still safe in its containment, back into her mandibles.

[Well done, Hooticus,] she praised him, but the owl merely turned his head and started tidying his feathers. He was always trying to act aloof.

[And how did you go, my little hungry one?] she said to the leech, who wriggled happily.

Regurgitating thoughts wasn't easy for the leech, and she hated making him do it, but she couldn't think of any other way to achieve their goal. After she processed what the leech had managed to steal, she understood why their foes were being so secretive.

"It's a priest from the Church of the Path," she hissed to the scout. "They're hunting for members of the Colony!"

-x-X-x-

It has long been assumed amongst the cults that Braxxin is a type of monster known as a titan, though we have no idea where in the Dungeon they may originate. More accurately, if they are known to any amongst the cults, they have chosen not to share it with this author.

Due to his tremendous height, there were many who saw the Ancient and survived to record it. Humanoid, with pale blue skin and a beard of frost, Braxxin's height has been variously recorded as between one and five kilometres. The great crown of ice atop his head is reportedly a focus for his power, which soaks in all heat around him, creating an area of almost absolute zero.

Braxxin rose close to the city of Wellourn, now lost to time. Situated beside a great lake, the city was instantly frozen solid the moment he emerged from below the ground. Although the ruins have long since been cleared away and the dead laid to rest, the lake itself is still yet to thaw. Perhaps it never will.

-Excerpt from 'Collective Wisdom of the Cults' by Granin Lazus

It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. This maxim had been well understood around Pangera for thousands of years, from the smallest of children to the mightiest of emperors. People were cautious by nature, hesitant to take on risk, loath to chance the worst case scenario, no matter how unlikely it might be.

If you had confidence in your purpose, surety in your footing along the path, yet others did not share your faith and barred the way, then perhaps this was not an impediment, but an opportunity.

An opportunity to seek forgiveness. A most holy calling.

Alir Vinting, Grand Priest of the Way, had cause to seek forgiveness many times in his life. He was a man of decisive action, unwilling to sit still when the path was clear in front of his feet. It was the reason he had risen so far in the church. It was the reason he would rise even higher.

The Church of the Path saw the ants for what they were, a spiritual test and resource to be exploited. When the Dungeon threw up monsters such as these, it was a cause to rejoice within the faith. The Dungeon was created to shape and mould the faithful, to provide for them and make them stronger. Within the nests of the Colony waited a harvest more rich than any in centuries, and it would be the act of a blasphemer, heretic and fool to leave it untouched.

Alir rose from the woven mat on which he prayed, his knees sore, as they always were after an hour of devotions, but he embraced the pain. He had endured far worse in times of penance and was accustomed to this daily ritual.

Out the window before him, he saw the brilliant, shining waters of the fourth stratum. Winds filled with the energy of light and life brushed against his face, and Alir allowed himself a small smile. He felt as if the Dungeon were affirming his mission, anointing his purpose.

"Have you finished your absolutions, Grand Priest?" a voice called softly from behind him.

Reaching down, he brushed himself down before turning to face the Deaconess Martha Scott. Plain of face, of middling height and unassuming figure, she nevertheless radiated a certain intensity, an outward expression of the iron faith that she contained within.

"I have," he said. "Have any of the teams returned this morning?"

Straight to business as always, Alir focused on the matters at hand.

Martha shook her head.

"They have not, Grand Priest."

Alir tsked and frowned. There were eight teams in the Dungeon right now, one of which should have returned yesterday.

"The delvers in this city assured me they were up to the task," he said. "I remain unconvinced."

"More will be coming," Martha told him. "Three ships set out from the Silver City a week ago. It shouldn't be long before they arrive."

"We must be cautious," Alir stated, nodding to himself. "Probe carefully. If the ants learn of our intentions too early, then the following steps become progressively more difficult."

"What if they already have?" Martha asked, a little hesitant. "It's odd for a team to be an entire day late returning from the Dungeon."

"If they find us, then they find us," he said. "I would rather operate in secret, but if I must walk in the open, then I shall. That's why we're here, after all."

He gestured vaguely toward the mountain, but the Deaconess understood.

"Green Mountain doesn't recognise the ants as a civilised race," she said.

The kingdom of Green Mountain was a stubborn, traditional place. A firm martial tradition meant many of the youth here became delvers or enlisted with the Legion, who maintained a strong presence on the mountain. Recognising monsters as a civilised race? Never. Even the bruan'chii, children of the Mother Tree, weren't welcome here. The Folk were barely tolerated and the Sophos were killed on sight.

Hunting the ants out of Green Mountain was perfectly legal, even if some communities on the fourth would find it distasteful. The ants learning what they were doing would simply make it more difficult to probe the edges of their territory, but not impossible.

After all, the tunnel networks beneath the mountains were vast and incomprehensibly tangled. The local delvers had access to detailed maps and guides that had been constructed over thousands of years, the ants did not. Even if there were millions of them, it would take years to find every path into their lands.

More tests were needed, more elixir was needed. A single ant was able to produce so much. If Alir could replicate that extraction, he would be able to prove what a golden hoard that ant nest really was. Would the Silver City deny him then? He didn't think so.

"The path lies clear before us, Martha. A difficult road to walk, with trials and tribulations aplenty, but vast, vast rewards at the end."

The Deaconess bowed low.

"Praise the Path."

-x-X-x-

Odren the Father of Monsters is both well known, as far as Ancients go, yet also shrouded in mystery. The Origin Cult who worship him aren't particularly helpful in this regard. Ask two of them the same question and you are liable to get five different answers.

As far as we can discern, it is not believed that Odren was the very first monster spawned in the Dungeon, but he is believed to be extremely old, perhaps the oldest of all the Ancients.

Referred to as 'the Father of Monsters', some believe he is the source of all creatures that spawn in the Dungeon, though this view is not very widely held. We know the Dungeon itself is responsible for the creation of monsters, though it may be possible the Ancient initiated, or perhaps contributes to that process?

Piercing the veil of mystery around Odren is difficult, yet we can gain clues about their nature from the evidence they left behind. Several sources seem to conclude that they rose in the frozen north during the Rending, amongst the steppes and foothills of the Skyhorn range. Historical records are hard to find, but scraps have been found that seem to agree an unstoppable tide of monsters poured out of the caves and fissures in the north, leading many in the cults to believe that Odren is capable of spawning hordes of creatures all of his own.

Who can say how many monsters who rise from the depths are, in fact, his children?

-Excerpt from 'Collective Wisdom of the Cults' by Granin Lazus

"I don't have time to deal with this issue," Solant said, her tone as flat and logical as ever. "The invasion goes on and we cannot pause our preparations for even an instant, lest we hand the initiative back to the Krath."

Sloan and Victor rubbed their antennae into their temples. Solant was an asset to the Colony, nobody could deny that, yet dealing with her was more than a little frustrating at times like this.

"We aren't asking you to come back to the fourth and manage border security," Sloan told her, not for the first time. "We are asking if we can review the allotment of resources to the fifth. The family is pouring everything into the fifth campaign, everything, and it's become impossible for us to secure our borders here in the fourth as quickly as we need to."

"Unless we get more bodies into the tunnels, we risk our territory being compromised by these interlopers. These church of the path interlopers. You know what's going to happen if they manage to capture one of us, don't you?"

"Yes," Solant said without emotion. "I know what they will do."

"We cannot allow that to happen. One of our sisters suffering that fate was one too many. We need scouts to map out the tunnels, soldiers and generals for security, carvers to build defences, mages to help all of them and core shapers for the most far-ranging work. With what we have available, it will take months, if not years, to fully seal off all of the tunnels. There are thousands of them down there."

The little general shook her head.

"I cannot accept any less than what I have requested. If our offensive stalls out before the next wave arrives, then we risk far more than just a few ants being taken by the Church. So far the Krath have failed to take any of us, but if they do, it will be a far worse fate than anything the Priests of the Path can inflict.

"Already they are regrouping and fighting us in the tunnels. As more of them gather and join forces against us, the worse our opposition will become. If we don't strike now, while our mandibles are sharp, then we run the risk of losing everything that we have gained."

Sloan clacked her mandibles in frustration.

"Are you sure you aren't simply allowing your obsession with winning to cloud your judgement? If the Colony cannot afford to fight on these two fronts, then shouldn't we be focused on protecting what we have, rather than fighting an impossible war?"

"What will the Eldest say if they wake up and hear that their sisters have been captured by the Church and it could have been prevented?" Victor pointed out. "Are you willing to accept the consequences if that happens?"

"It was the Eldest's idea to invade the fifth in the first place," Solant pointed out. "I don't doubt they will support my decision to ensure that we are successful and achieve what we set out to do."

Sloan let her antennae slump down.

"Fine. We won't divert any resources from the conflict in the fifth and will hold our territory as best we can in the meantime."

"I appreciate that," Solant said. "I promise I will not fail the Colony."

With that said, the little general turned and walked out, leaving the others behind in the small meeting chamber in which they had adjourned.

"This is going to be hard, Sloan," Victor said after a long, tense silence. "If we pull back, then we invite more pressure. If we try to hold the line, we create gaps in our defenses. Even if we do everything perfectly, there's just too much ground to cover."

"It could end badly," Sloan agreed, nodding her head as she thought. The more she considered the possible outcomes, the grimmer it became. Even if it was only the odd exploratory delver team looking for stray ants right now, that didn't mean it would stay that way. Escalation was almost inevitable. The more the ants hid themselves away, the more emboldened the hunters would become, pressing deeper into Colony territory and increasing the risk of a serious incident.

If an ant was taken, or maybe more than one, then what? The generals knew exactly where these teams were based, it hadn't been hard to find out using their contacts and diplomatic corps. Going to war against an independent mountain kingdom wasn't something they could sustain right now. Doubly so when the close ties to the Silver City were taken into account.

Yet, the worst case scenario kept rising in her head, refusing to be pushed back down.

If ants were taken, and the Eldest awoke to find out what had happened while they slept, what were the chances they wouldn't retaliate? And if they did, assaulting Green Mountain and annihilating the guilty, the Colony would inevitably be drawn into a war that would span the entire fourth stratum.

All of Pangera could be plunged into the conflict. An endless war that burned empires to the ground even as the Dungeon grew stronger and stronger with every passing day.

"This is bad," she said. "Really bad."

-x-X-x-

"We are worried about your future."

It was an odd day. Alice Erry had not expected to be seated across from a monster when she had woken up that morning, yet indeed, here she was. The room itself was opulent, which shouldn't be too surprising, considering whose ship it was.

Neutral ground, they'd said, since they were unwilling to meet within the Green Mountain itself. A smart decision. Within the confines of the city, they would be treated like the Dungeon spawn that they were.

Was that carpet really woven from Amber Frost fibre? And who thought of putting a carpet in a ship?

Surely the damp… she shook her head, it was no business of hers.

Of all the irritating things in front of her that she had to deal with, by far the most was the… creature across the table from her.

Positively hideous. Its carapace was a russet red, except for the rear section, which was pitch black, much like the beast's multi-faceted eyes. With fine hairs sticking out of its antennae, the monster was often fidgeting, cleaning its antennae or using its middle or rear legs to scrape alongside its carapace in a disturbing display.

The more she sat across from it, the less inclined Alice was to remain in the room.

Her translator, a fiercely moustachio'd man named Inger, was staring at her, waiting for a reply he could communicate via mind bridge to his opposite on the other side of the table.

And this was perhaps the most offensive thing of all.

"You are worried about our future?" she said, restraining herself from fully expressing her incredulity. "I hardly see how our future is any of your business."

Was it a threat? Was this disgusting thing threatening her and her people?! The very thought that these monsters were allowed to roam free, sitting here at this table under the protection of a brathian conglomerate, no less. It was outrageous, and she couldn't for the life of her think why the Legion hadn't exterminated them long ago.

Letting an ant colony live this long was without precedent. Everyone knew how devastating an outbreak of ant monsters could be. Everyone!

"I see there is some confusion."

The translator beside her kept a running dialogue, speaking aloud as soon the words were sent into his head.

"We do not mean to threaten you, but to ensure that the potential for harm to befall your city is not realised. If you continue to allow delving teams leaving your kingdom to infringe on our territory, the chance that something goes wrong will only increase."

How was that not a threat?

"We are under no obligation to place restraints on the Delving Union. We don't recognise your territory at all. I'm not sure why we are here talking to begin with."

She muttered the last sentence more out of frustration than anything else. No doubt the translator passed it along, but thankfully the ant didn't say anything. They both knew why she was there, because the brathian had threatened to put a stranglehold on Green Mountain's trade.

How these monsters had that sort of leverage, she would dearly like to know.

"You don't have to recognise our territory, or us as a sapient species–"

"Why would we recognise you? You're Dungeon born."

The ant hesitated for a moment.

"... To be accurate, we are born from the Queens, not from the Dungeon."

Alice shrugged.

"It's the same thing to us."

"... Indeed. Well, as I was saying. We do not require these things from you, we simply wish for you to prevent delvers from travelling beyond the markers we will place in the tunnels."

"Why would we do that?" Alice asked, staring hard at the ant. "Because they are hunting you like monsters? That's what delvers do."

Again, the ant cleaned her antennae, dragging them through her elbows in a truly discomfiting display. They were just so… hideous. Filled with disgust, Alice kept her face smooth. She was a trained diplomat, and even here, faced with this thing, she would act like it.

"I will speak clearly," the ant said finally. "Right now, the Eldest of our Colony is undergoing evolution, and we expect them to wake up imminently. If, at that time, they find out that delvers from your kingdom have successfully been hunting and killing their siblings, they will be very angry."

Alice folded her hands on the table.

"So it's threats after all. Not that I should expect better from monsters."

The ant shook its head in a strangely human motion.

"I will repeat myself, this is not a threat, but a warning. We do not control the Eldest and would fail if we tried. Of course, we will not disavow their actions, and should it come to war, then we will fight. What we would like is to create conditions where that course of events does not come to pass."

"Conditions that conveniently favour you," Alice pointed out. "Green Mountain will never bow to threats, and we will not change our policies based on coercion. The Delving Union has always been allowed to act within their charter, and that isn't going to change. Are we done here?"

"We will pay you," the ant said.

Taken by surprise, Alice Erry blinked, then smiled. Unable to get their way through bluster and threats, now the creatures wanted to pay them off?

"We can't be bought by monsters," she declared firmly, her gaze hardening.

The longer this meeting went on, the more contempt she had for these creatures.

The ant rummaged in a little pouch slung on its side, using a foreleg to extract a document and then slide it gently across the table.

"This is our offer."

Alice resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she picked it up and turned it over.

Doubtless it was–....

She coughed.

"We hope that will be sufficient," the translator said, trying to get a glimpse of the paper's contents.

She hastily folded it and stuffed it in her pocket.

"I will consult with my superiors," she said with all the dignity she could muster.

-x-X-x-

Hatchlings worked their way through the Antcademies believing that the Eldest had a plan in mind for all of the castes. The soldiers were intended to fight on the frontlines, with the thickest carapaces and the strongest mandibles, serving as the swords and shields of the Colony. Generals were intended to be fighting support, the second line of defence, providing auras, tactical know-how and their own formidable fighting prowess. Scouts, naturally, had been designed to move quickly, see everything and engage in a hit-and-run fighting style using their acid and speed. Mages for magic. Queens for egg-laying. Brood Tenders for rearing the young. Core Shapers to research and utilise pets. Healers to keep everyone alive.

Carvers? Well, carvers were intended to make things.

Yet… what to do with a carver who never made anything?

"Do you… feel like working with metal?" the poor Brood Tender asked the hatchling.

The little thing considered for a long moment, showing that unusual level of intelligence and consideration that had caught the attention of the Tenders to start with, then shook her head.

This was a champion, of that they were fairly certain, but so far… they hadn't had that much of a problem with her. She was relatively quiet, obedient and studious. When they recalled the disastrous time they'd had with Brilliant, even as a grub, this seemed to be an incredibly easy-to-raise champion.

In fact, they had only encountered one difficulty so far in raising her. She said she wanted to make things. That was fine, that was what carvers did all the time. The only problem was, they couldn't seem to work out what it was that she wanted to make.

"You could carve wood? Lots of things are made from wood," another of the Brood Tenders suggested helpfully. She started listing things the Colony made from the mana infused and even mundane wood that they harvested, and the little ant listened carefully.

Some of the other Tenders thought it would be an enormous shame to have a champion of the Colony spend their time making furniture, but who knew how these things worked? Every champion seemed to be obsessed with something. Presumably, it was simply a matter of presenting options to the hatchling until she found out what it was she wanted to do.

"No," the hatchling replied. "I don't feel all that interested in wood."

On it went. The Tenders presented option after option, craft after craft, and the hatchling listened, observed, then refused. Convinced they weren't being thorough enough, they decided to take her on a tour of the many workshops in the Colony.

From the first stratum, they took her into the mines to see ore being harvested. They took her to the great refineries, where the ores were initially processed and sorted before being smelted in the vast furnace stacks. They followed the ingots as they were delivered to the great smithies, where the pounding of cherry red metal and the ringing of industrial hammers set their antennae to quivering.

The hatchling wasn't interested.

They took her to the tea fields, showed her the tender care that was given the precious plants, showed her the elaborate methods of harvesting, drying and processing the leaves before they were stored, ready for transport. The milk-processing facilities, where milk was brought in from the Colony-run cattle farms, millions of gallons a month, to be processed into butter, cream and cheese. The bakeries, where biscuits, scones and cakes were created, dozens of tons a day, before being shipped out to every corner of the Colony.

The hatchling was unmoved.

Growing desperate, the Brood Tenders sought out every master craftsant in the Colony, hoping to find whatever it was that would spark the little one's interest.

Carpet weavers created intricate patterns from coloured threads, expertly interlacing them to create images and shapes that pleased the eye with their symmetry and beauty. Lace makers, endlessly tatting with pure white fabrics to make decorative pieces for clothing and furniture. They even found the single, solitary 'fashion designer' within the Colony, a very peculiar and unusual ant who attempted, in vain, to interest her siblings in clothes.

Nothing seemed to interest the hatchling in the slightest.

She watched it all, taking in the information, but there was no inspiration or spark taking hold.

Increasingly frantic, the Brood Tenders did something they would normally never allow, and took the hatchling to the surface, outside of the safety of the tunnels. There, they hoped to show her the humans in the growing city of Renewal and see their strange habits, wondering if something, anything, would interest her.

The humans of Renewal were well accustomed to having ants moving amongst them, but not Brood Tenders, never Brood Tenders, so the arrival of their small group brought far more attention than they had hoped. Indeed, they found it rather surprising the humans had even been able to tell what they were.

Thankfully, the people remained at a respectful distance, allowing them to take the hatchling to see the various sights. They showed her the cathedral and the… strange, strange people within.

They showed her the offices, where the mayor and others worked to help administer the town, documenting all sorts of things and making decisions for the betterment of all.

Finally, on the verge of giving up, they showed her a cafe.

The hatchling watched the humans ordering food. She watched them eating it, drinking their tea and other beverages. She watched them talk and laugh amongst each other.

None of it was interesting.

Then she watched as they walked to the counter, reached into the strange little pouches they kept, withdrew something shiny, and placed it in the owner's hands.

What, she thought, was that?

-x-X-x-

Jasper was used to seeing ants about the place; they were in Renewal every day, after all. On a few occasions, he'd even been asked questions by them, quite the remarkable experience. They had an insatiable curiosity about tea and sweet things like cakes and biscuits, and he'd answered as best he could. He wasn't a baker, after all, but the owner and operator of a small cafe in which he sold various beverages, hot and cold, along with snacks and sandwiches.

It was a simple business, a simple life, and he was well satisfied with it after the chaos that had engulfed his life when the waves began. Renewal had lived up to its name as far as he was concerned, and he wouldn't trade his little store for the world.

Yet there was something about this ant in particular that was different. For one, she was so small, barely up to his knee, which made him think she must be a hatchling. That made him wary. The Colony were extremely protective of hatchlings, which led to his other concern. He didn't know enough about the ants to tell the different types apart all that well, but he'd heard rumours a group of Brood Tenders that were guiding a young one around the town, which meant the other ants nearby must be the Tenders.

Brood Tenders, as a rule, did not interact with others all that much. The hierarchy within the Colony was easy for everyone to understand. At the tippy-top were the Queens, who people of Renewal didn't see, ever. Just under that were the brood, who never left the safety of their special chambers. Just under that were the hatchlings, who basically went straight into their ant schools after being born and didn't come out until they'd evolved, and just under them, were the Brood Tenders.

Having this particular combination of ants in his shop was making Jasper quite nervous.

[She wants to see the coins,] he was told via mind-bridge.

Confused, he opened up his fingers and held out his hand, a few coins resting on his palm. He needed to bend low so the hatchling could inspect them without climbing up onto his counter.

Getting close, the ant inspected the coins with her eyes, then with her antennae, seeing and smelling them as best she could.

[Are these all the types of coins you have?] the voice said in his mind.

Judging by the tone, whoever was speaking to him using magic was just as confused by what was going on as he was.

[Ah, just a moment,] he replied.

He stepped behind the counter and opened his lockbox, extracting one of each type of coin he carried in the store.

He placed them on the ground in order of value, pointing to each one as he explained their worth, assuming his words would be passed on to the curious hatchling.

[We only recently moved away from a barter economy and started minting our own coins. It was the mayor's idea and probably about time. Some people were already using coin from wherever they came from before arriving here, but they were given a fair exchange once the new ones went into circulation.

[The least valuable is an iron, here.]

He pointed to the small, reddish coin with a simplistic image of an old woman on it.

[They stamped the first mayor on this one, in recognition of her contributions. Ten irons will make a copper, which is this one. I think the ant here was called Grant. I know they explained it all, but I don't remember it particularly well, I'm sorry. Five coppers makes a copper sovereign. Ten coppers make a silver and five silvers make a silver sovereign. Above that you have the gold and gold sovereigns, but I don't have any of those.]

The little ant inspected each one carefully in turn.

[Why don't you have any gold?] he was asked.

Jasper laughed and scratched his cheek sheepishly.

[I don't make enough money, and, to be honest, even if I had one, I wouldn't keep it in the store. Crime is incredibly low in Renewal, but I would feel too darn nervous having it here.]

The little ant seemed to listen as the response was translated, then nodded.

[She just has a few more questions.]

Jasper smiled and shrugged.

[Sure.]

[Why money?]

He blinked.

[Uh, I'm sorry?]

[She wants to know,] the voice said, seemingly just as confused as he was, [why you use money.]

He blinked again, then scratched the back of his head.

[Do you use money at all?] he asked, suddenly curious. [In the Colony, I mean.]

[No.]

[How do you pay for things?]

[We don't.]

[How do you get paid?]

[We don't.]

Well… if you didn't need to pay for things, it stood to reason that you wouldn't need to get paid.

[What if someone takes more than everyone else?] he wondered. [Takes more than is fair?]

[Such selfish behaviour…] the mental voice seemed completely scandalised, as if she'd never thought of such a thing, [it's… un-antlike.]

How in Pangera was he going to explain the concept of money? It was… it was just money!

Still, the little hatchling looked up at him expectantly, so he decided to do his best.

He started by explaining barter, the exchange of goods and services for other goods and services, then described the limitations of the system. If one reared cows for a living, he couldn't very well walk around with ten cows in his pocket, nor could he easily trade a tenth of a cow for a cup of flour.

Then he described money as a representation of value, and as a more convenient and streamlined manner to conduct trade. Everyone could carry coins around, and as long as everyone agreed on their value, business could be conducted quickly and easily.

He also spoke about the power it granted to those who controlled the supply of money, in this case the city itself, since they were the ones minting them, and the problems with theft. Not that there was much theft in Renewal, but it was a lot easier to steal a gold coin than it was to steal what a gold coin could buy.

The little hatchling listened to all of this, absorbed it, almost totally motionless. When he was finished, Jasper could only put his hands on his hips as he leaned back and thought if he had anything else to say. Eventually, he shrugged.

[I think that's all I know about it, I'm afraid.]

The little hatchling nodded. Then turned and left.

[She says 'thank you'.]

[Oh. She's very welcome.]

And that was the strangest conversation, on the strangest day in Jasper's entire life.

Until the next day happened.

-x-X-x-

When Jasper awoke, he didn't imagine there would be anything particularly special about this day. He lived alone in a small house on the outskirts of the city, cheap enough that he'd been able to buy it when land prices were still low. As a fully functioning town, Renewal hadn't been around that long, but the speed of its development had been utterly staggering. Some buildings in the city centre were already being torn down as they were too small to accommodate the booming population.

Fortunately, his little shop hadn't come under any scrutiny. A short walk from the square, close to the cathedral and administration buildings, there was a decent amount of foot traffic in the area and quite frankly, he liked his little corner. Having to rebuild, even if it were at the city's expense, wasn't something he wanted to do.

Following his usual morning routine, Jasper washed, shaved and dressed in fresh, clean clothes. He grabbed up the pants and shirt he'd worn yesterday and slung them into a linen bag. Mrs Worther's washing service had been a life saver for him. He had neither the time nor the inclination to go to the river and scrub out his clothing, so he was more than happy to pay for the privilege, since all he had to do was drop them off on the way to work.

With his first task of the day done, he picked up some fresh fruit from the market for breakfast and then went about making sure his suppliers had followed their agreements and dropped off the required goods at his store. Some things he sourced from the Colony itself and as always it was delivered early, clearly marked and well packaged, right at his back door.

The day started early for a shopkeeper and he didn't want to miss the morning rush, so Jasper set about getting ready to open. He hauled in the various packages, wiped down all the surfaces and brought the pastries and snacks out of the cool store and put them back out on display.

When everything was ready, he opened his door, placed out his little 'we're open!' trestle sign before taking the shutters off the windows.

Feel Renewed was open for business!

With a smile on his face, Jasper went inside and made sure the boiler was heating up properly. He'd topped off the reservoir before closing the day before, so there should be plenty of water, yet sometimes the fancy enchanted mechanism responsible for bringing it to a boil didn't function properly.

As he tinkered about the place, humming to himself, he slowly started to realise that he hadn't had any customers yet.

That was… a little unusual. He'd been open for ten minutes, which wasn't long, but normally there would be at least five people dropping by for their regular morning tea and scone on their way to work.

None of them had turned up? None?

Confused, he poked his head out the door again. The streets were a little empty, and he could hear a hubbub over by the square. Was there something going on over there today?

Curiosity piqued, he called out.

"Franklin! Can you watch my shop for ten?"

"Can," the old cooper from next door replied, "but you'll need to watch mine for twenty this afternoon!"

Always had to 'win'. Jasper rolled his eyes.

"Done."

He stepped out and walked toward the square, the sound of voices growing louder the closer he got. When he arrived, it wasn't hard to see what had caught everyone's attention. In fact, it was impossible to miss.

In the middle of the square, the little hatchling from the previous day, at least he assumed as much, had set up its own stall. Flanked by two enormous soldiers who loomed comically over the well-built wooden shop, the little ant was seated in one of those unusual ant chairs, waiting for people to approach.

Spying another ant behind the stall, Jasper had to assume that was a mage, otherwise how were they supposed to talk to any customers?

Even more curious, he couldn't see what they were selling. There was nothing on the flat surface of the stall, nothing on display, just a little ant waiting patiently, clacking her mandibles, and a small sign on the front.

Frowning, he moved closer so he could read it.

It read: Colony Bank: Renewal Branch.

What on Pangera?

There was a large crowd gathering, but as of yet nobody seemed willing to actually go up to the table and speak to the hatchling, so Jasper took it upon himself to walk over and ask what was going on.

He had to be back at his cafe in ten minutes, after all.

When he reached the table, a mind bridge snapped into place and he recognised the mental voice of the mage he'd spoken with the day before.

[Hello and welcome to… the Colony Bank. Would you like to make a deposit?]

[You forgot the name?]

[I did. I'm not exactly sure what is going on here.]

The little hatchling clacked her mandibles happily, antennae wiggling with excitement as she stared at him eagerly.

[She… wants to know if you are making a deposit.]

[A… a what?]

[Will you give her money?]

A few more happy clacks of the mandibles.

Jasper smiled, though he was quite bewildered.

[What am I giving her money for? Is this a donation?]

[She says… no. She will take your money and, for a small fee, store it inside the nest for safety. You will never have to fear that your wealth will be taken ever again.]

That was… his initial instinct was to say 'silly', but… the more he thought about it… Right now his savings were hidden in the wall of his house. A decent hiding place to be sure, but he'd be lying if he said he felt completely secure about it….

[How small is this fee?] he asked suspiciously.

[A one-time copper sovereign to open your account with the bank, then a yearly handling fee of nine copper and nine iron.]

[Isn't that basically a silver?]

[But it isn't, she says. The emphasis is hers.]

[Right.]

He thought about it for a moment before he realised he was more tempted than he probably should be. If his money was stored inside the Colony, who would ever steal it? Theft was basically impossible! The ants weren't going to take it, they literally didn't even use money.

[She says… you will also receive a monthly payment based on the amount you have stored in the bank. A… percentage of your savings will be paid back to you.]

He would be paid?

[How much?]

[Two percent.]

So he would be paid, but not much.

[Wait,] he said, [is that payment calculated on how much I give you, or on how much is in there at the end of the month?]

[The end of the month.]

[So that means the payment for the second month will include the payment from the first month?]

The little ant rubbed her antenna together.

[Only if you leave that money in the bank, she says.]

But that meant he would be receiving extra money based on the extra money he was given…. It could even add up to enough to pay the yearly fee, which meant his money would be perfectly safe, all year round, and it wouldn't cost him anything.

Now he was really tempted. There had to be a catch.

[How do I get my money back if I want it?] he said, eyes narrowing.

The little ant ducked down and grabbed a large, leather-bound book with her mandibles from below before placing it on the counter and opening it to the first page.

[She will keep a record of all money stored in the bank right here, and anyone can come to this stall and withdraw their coins whenever they want.]

[What if I want all of my coins at once?]

[They won't be stored far away. It will take an hour or so to retrieve it all if there isn't enough at the stall to cover your request.]

Jasper considered it a moment longer, then turned and started running back to his house. People called out to him as he went, asking what was going on, but he ignored them. Which wall had he hidden that darned money behind again?!

-x-X-x-

Of all the champions born to the Colony, it would be difficult to say which was the most disruptive. Solant is obviously a strong contender, reshaping the way the family approached war and instilling a… particular focus and drive towards victory that hadn't existed before.

In her own way, Merchant was exceptionally influential to the fate of the family. For good or for ill, she forever changed the relationship between the Colony and wealth, and how we interacted with the outside world. This came with many benefits, yet also many drawbacks, entangling us in ways we did not expect, and that were difficult to cut loose when the time came.

- Excerpt from the private notes of Historiant.

The Brood Tenders had no idea what to make of this situation. The hatchling was showing interest in something. That was good! But they had no idea what it was or how it worked. That was bad!

How could they help guide the new champion and give her advice if she was already doing something they didn't understand? The simple answer was, they couldn't! Yet it was their role and purpose to help rear and guide the young, so they did their best to understand it.

Inside the brood chamber, surrounded by eggs and larvae, the hatchling had asked the soldiers to place a box for her, and then asked the Tenders to make sure the larvae didn't eat it. Which they would, if given half a chance. They would eat anything.

Obviously, the Brood Tenders had insisted the box and all its contents be given a thorough inspection and acid wash to ensure it was properly clean before reluctantly agreeing. They didn't want to put up barriers for the new champion so early in her development, but they weren't really comfortable with anything being brought into the brood chamber.

"So can you try and explain this to us again?" Attendant, the chief Brood Tender in charge of the new champion asked.

"It's so simple," the hatchling said. "I've created a store that holds money for people."

"They just… give you money?" she said.

Attendant didn't really understand the idea of money in the first place, but she knew it was some human thing and they seemed rather obsessed with it.

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"I'll give it back to them," the hatchling said. "They are giving it to me for safety. The humans are worried someone is going to steal their money, so they give it to me, and I will store it here in the nest. Now they don't have to worry anymore."

Well, it would certainly be difficult to go into a Brood Chamber and take anything out of there without thousands upon thousands of ants hunting you down. You had to get past those ants to get in there in the first place.

"But don't you also pay them for giving you money?"

"Yes," the hatchling nodded, "an interest payment."

"Interest in what?"

"Money."

"I… I see."

This was all rather confusing, but she was desperate to be supportive.

"It's all very clever," she assured the little hatchling. "But don't you want to make money?"

"Of course," the little hatchling nodded eagerly. She had been overjoyed to find something she wanted to make. Money, as it turned out. How this would be useful to the Colony, Attendant had no idea. If only the Eldest were able to come up and speak to the little one, perhaps they might be able to make some sense of it.

"So how are you making money if you are giving it away?"

"Two ways," the hatchling said, ticking them off on her antennae. "First, the fees give me an influx of coins I can use to cover the interest payments. Most people won't be able to save enough money to completely eradicate the fees, so I will earn money from those accounts each year. The second way," she said confidently, "is by using this money to make more money," she tapped the box for emphasis.

"Isn't that other people's money?" Attendant said. "How are you going to spend it when it isn't yours?"

"It was part of the contract they signed when creating their account. I'm allowed to allocate up to fifty percent of their funds for investing."

This was just… so confusing.

"And they're… fine with that?"

"The deposits are also fully guaranteed by the Colony, so there isn't really any risk to them."

"What does that mean?"

The little hatchling looked away.

"It means the Colony will pay them back if I make a mistake and lose their money…"

That… didn't seem good.

"Are you going to lose their money?" Attendant asked, suspiciously.

"Of… of course not!" the hatchling said. "I'll be very careful with it. It's just like the human Jasper said to me yesterday, 'sometimes you have to spend money to make money'. Now I have some money," she tapped the chest again, "so I can start spending it to make more!"

"And you're sure nothing will go wrong?"

"I'm very sure," the little hatchling declared, nodding for emphasis. "Nothing can possibly go wrong."

-x-X-x-

The first loss-making venture was a lemonade stand. Although the hatchling was indeed very diligent with what she dubbed 'market research', interviewing humans, observing the most walked paths in the city and in developing her product, there were several key failures.

Primarily amongst them was that she had tested the drink, made with fresh lemons sourced from within the first stratum of the Dungeon, on other ants, rather than the actual group she wanted to sell to: humans. This was how she learned that ants have a much higher tolerance for sweetness than humans do.

Indeed, the more sugar she packed into it, the more her testers wanted to drink. Super confident she was onto a hit, she poured money into hiring human labour to build her a lemonade stand and make an enormous supply of her special 'Colony Approved Lemonade'.

When the Brood Tenders asked her why she didn't just use ants to do all the work, the hatchling dismissed the idea as 'cheating'. She demanded that she make her money the same way everyone else in Renewal did.

And so, the great launch occurred. There was indeed plenty of interest. Anything Colony related was bound to draw a crowd in Renewal, but after one sip, everyone either spat out the fresh drink, or barely managed to hold it in while smiling painfully.

Business on the second day was… not so good.

It was only after seeking out Jasper that she finally learned what the problem was, which left her with a vast supply of undrinkable lemonade. Of course, her siblings would love to get their mandibles on it, but they couldn't pay for it! She needed to recoup her costs!

Diluting the stuff, sharply dropping the price and relaunching as 'NEW Colony Approved Lemonade' was just barely enough to get the last of the stock out the door.

Final losses: 15% of the initial investment. Not great, but it could have been worse.

The hatchling wasn't deterred. It was a learning experience! Quick thinking and savvy marketing had managed to steady the ship and avert complete disaster. Her next venture was sure to be a success.

So the Brood Tenders watched and worried, unsure how to provide guidance, as the hatchling threw herself into preparations for her next business idea. More than once, they wondered if the little one should evolve, or purchase new Skills, since that would surely help, but they had no idea in which direction she should go. This was literally the first ant in the history of the Colony to engage in any of these practices!

Wanting to forget the sting of her initial error, the hatchling decided to move away from the beverage industry and go in a new and bold direction.

Thus was born: 'Colony Construction'.

This time she did agree to use ant labour, but insisted the carvers be paid the market rate in cores for their work.

She'd done her research well, making sure to actually speak to her prospective clients before launching the business. Her siblings did a great deal of building work around the city. Large-scale projects such as the irrigation system, the new aqueduct and the Tunnel Ball stadium were all made by ants, and the people trusted and respected their work.

Well, now through 'Colony Construction', you could hire the Colony to work on your own, private projects! Want a home you could rely on? Need a second floor added to your house? Perhaps an office, or stables, or barn, or anything! You need it, the Colony would build it.

As it turned out, this business wasn't without its challenges.

First of all, she had to pay for materials, and most contracts didn't pay for the entire job up front, which meant she was in the red until the work was completed. Second of all, there were a good number of trusted builders in the city already, people with good reputations and a solid list of clients, which made it difficult to break into the market. Thirdly, not everyone wanted to live in an anthill.

Utterly bizarre.

Nevertheless, interest in Colony Constructions was steady, and although it would take time, it seemed as though she would eventually break even with an eye to making profit in the long term.

So long as there wasn't a spike in the cost of cores, of course. Not wanting to cheat, she procured the cores at the market rate from the Delving Office in Renewal, sourced from human teams who worked in the Dungeon within Colony territory.

Final Losses: Down 30% of initial investment, with a strong projection for long-term profits.

Calling her second venture a tentative success, the hatchling was nevertheless faced with the reality that she was dangerously close to dipping below the fifty percent mark of her bank's holdings. If she did, even for a second, the contracts would be voided and she would be forced to pay out everyone their full balance, plus a penalty fee.

Such a failure was unconscionable! Success in business was built on trust, that was one of the bits of advice that Jasper had given her, and it made sense to the hatchling. People liked money, they wouldn't hand it over if they didn't trust you.

In order to dig herself out of the hole, she would need another business idea, but first, she would have to raise the capital.

Interestingly, the bank service she had created was proving to be quite popular. Every day there was a trickle of new deposits, and if she waited, it would eventually add up and give her the funds she needed.

But that proved difficult for the hatchling. She felt a burning need inside her. She had to make moves, she had to make deals! There were profits out there, she could practically smell them. They were waiting for her, just begging for an enterprising ant to come along and pluck them up!

Unable to wait any longer, she launched an aggressive advertising campaign for the bank.

Targeting the outlying farmers, she went from small community to small community, farmhouse to farmhouse, extolling the virtues of her banking service and the peace of mind it could bring.

A masterstroke!

Farmers, as it turned out, were the perfect clients for her bank. After harvest time, they were rich, sitting on a large supply of coins that they needed to carefully hoard for the rest of the year. As it was one month after the harvest, every farmhold she spoke to was comparatively wealthy. If they gave her that money, not only was it safe, but they would earn interest on it, accruing a little extra that would go a long way when winter came.

Coins rained into the hatchling's little cashbox, so much so that she had to acquire a second, having it cleaned and inspected by the Tenders before she was allowed to place it next to the first.

Overflowing with new capital funds, she eagerly sought out her next venture.

This time for sure, it was going to be a hit!

-x-X-x-

The hatchling stared at the empty, wooden bottom of her money chest. How was it empty? This shouldn't be possible… it wasn't possible. She had predicted the market perfectly!

There was a huge gap for artisanal ant carvings, there was literally nobody in Renewal making them! Those people loved ants, so naturally, wouldn't they buy a lot of carvings of ants?

No, her plan had been flawless, but she hadn't accounted for the change in costs!

The price of cores in Renewal had skyrocketed, thanks entirely to the demand she had created by operating her businesses and using them to pay her workers in the Colony!

She'd taken a healthy number of orders, not as many as she'd hoped, but enough to make a decent profit, but had failed to lock in the necessary cores at the current market rate. When she went back to buy more, the price had almost doubled. Not only was she not making any money on the statues, she was actively losing money with every statue she sold!

A complete and total disaster.

Slumped in defeat, the hatchling lay flat, sprawled on the ground with her legs lying limply outstretched by her sides. The Tenders looked on with concern, worried how this setback might affect their little champion, and frustrated at their own inability to help.

"What do we do?" they muttered amongst themselves. "Has she lost her seed capital?"

"A good chunk of it," Attendant replied in a hushed whisper of pheromones. "I think the Colony will have to step in and create coins to ensure she has enough in the bank to cover the deposits."

"A complete failure," the hatchling groaned, hearing every word of it.

"No, not a complete failure," Attendant told her gently. "You have learned lessons and gained wisdom, have you not?"

"I have failed my customers," the hatchling refuted miserably. "I've taken their money and lost it thanks to my own incompetence. Maybe I wasn't supposed to try and make wealth after all.…"

"The Colony will cover the money," Attendant tried to comfort the hatchling, but only seemed to make it worse.

The expense was nothing to the family. They could churn out millions of these coins if they wanted to. They had the resources, the smelting facilities, skilled smiths and the technical know-how. Apparently, that was beside the point. The hatchling was not comforted and instead flopped even more vigorously, morose and despondent on the floor of the brood chamber.

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This was stunning to the Brood Tenders. They didn't know much about champions, but all of those who'd been born to the family so far had been indefatigable, determined, single-minded almost to the point of fault. Of course, the Eldest had been involved in teaching all of them at one point or another, but it wasn't likely they could get the hatchling down that deep in the Dungeon any time soon.

Yet, the more they discussed amongst themselves, the more they came to agree that another teacher needed to be found for this new champion. In fact, they should not have delayed this long in the first place. As soon as the object of the champion's focus had been revealed, they should have gracefully acknowledged they lacked the necessary skills and found someone better equipped to guide the little one.

Attendant and the others reflected deeply on this failing. Word would be spread to the other Tenders to ensure this did not happen again. New text must be added to the Education Codex of Antkind.

While watching over the unmoving, slumped form of the hatchling, they discussed every possible option they could think of, and ultimately agreed that there was really only one possible choice. A scout was sent running, racing to deliver a message down to the depths while Attendant approached the champion, prodding her in the side with one leg.

"No more time for this moping," she chided the hatchling. "You have made mistakes, and the family will step in to ensure nothing bad happens to the people who trusted you. Now, if you want to repay the family, then it's time to stop making new businesses for a time and learn from someone with experience in this field. When they say you're ready, you can start to try and make money again."

The hatchling's antennae twitched.

"There's someone who can teach me?" she asked curiously. "Who would want to teach an ant how to make money?"

~~~

"When you said you had a student for me, this wasn't quite what I expected," Enid chuckled, taking a sip of her tea before leaning back with a sigh.

Despite the best care and attention the Colony could afford to give her, the former mayor of Renewal was, in a word, old. Every week, she discovered a new ache or pain. Her back was sore, her knees hurt, her skin was paper-thin and bruised if she poked it, her hair was thinning and her eyesight wasn't what it used to be.

It felt as though all the vitality she had burned up while putting Renewal together had finally taken its toll. All she did these days was have high tea with The Queen and consult on logistics with the Colony. It was a comfortable existence, and the ants looked after her incredibly well. There were a few humans here in the fourth stratum for her to talk to as well, so she wasn't really bored.

But she lacked mental stimulation.

When the Colony had come to speak to her about taking on an apprentice, she'd assumed some enterprising lad or lass from Renewal had caught their eye and had agreed after some thinking. It wouldn't hurt to pass on her knowledge, after all.

Only, it wasn't a young man or woman who had come to learn from her, but a tiny, knee-high ant, who now lay flat, her head bowed low into the carpet.

[Please, teach me well!] her piping little voice echoed in Enid's mind.

The old woman laughed.

[I'll do my best,] she said.

-x-X-x-

[There is more to being a merchant than maths,] Enid explained patiently for the hundredth time.

[But… but… if the numbers line up, it's a good trade… isn't it?]

[Yes, of course the numbers are the foundation. Buy low, sell high, margins, markups, scarcity, we've talked about all that. However, if all that was required to be a good merchant was to be good with numbers, then mathematicians would be the richest people on Pangera. They aren't, by the way.]

The hatchling looked a little despondent, but Enid remained placid, nibbling on a biscuit as they conversed in her sitting room.

It had been weeks since they'd started this routine. Enid was pleased with her new student's attitude. She hadn't been sure what to expect from an ant who wanted to be a merchant, but it hadn't been… this. The hatchling was attentive, inquisitive, had a good sense for numbers and possessed a genuine passion for commerce behind her compound eyes.

Which was the most surprising thing. The Colony, as a whole, had absolutely no interest in commercial activities of any kind, to the point that they'd brought her in, a rural merchant from a backwater kingdom, to negotiate on their behalf with a brathian conglomerate!

What it was about this particular ant that caused her to take an interest, she had no idea, but it was a pleasant surprise.

[I don't understand,] the hatchling groaned.

This was the first major sticking point that they'd run into. The hatchling had a logical mind, an understanding of cause and effect. She'd already developed a working understanding of market forces on her own, without having any sort of teacher at all. Remarkable.

Yet this was something that she just didn't seem to be able to grasp.

[Connections, reputation, trust. There are so many factors that go into a successful deal other than the price.]

[Of course, quality is an important factor, not only price.]

Enid put her cup down.

[Let's imagine there are two different traders, both offering the same item for sale. The price is identical, and they are sourced from the same vendor. Who do you buy from?]

The hatchling considered the question, antennae waggling through the air.

[Either,] she said finally. [There is no meaningful difference between the two, so the decision is arbitrary.]

Enid shook her head.

[Wrong,] she hummed. [It turns out one of the merchants has a poor reputation in the local community. Two summers ago, they were found to have cheated some locals out of a few silver. You can't be sure they haven't interfered with the goods.]

[I didn't know that,] the hatchling complained.

[You didn't ask,] Enid pointed out. [And besides, if it matters, then it proves my point. A merchant is only as good as their reputation. If the people of Renewal had found out you'd lost their money, would you have ever been able to start another business in that community?]

Again, the hatchling considered the question for a moment.

[No,] she said with finality.

[Exactly. There are two key elements to being a successful merchant. To gather knowledge, ask questions, find opportunities and then take advantage of them. This requires careful research, a logistical and analytical thought process, going through the numbers, so to speak. The second is to cultivate both contacts and reputation. Customers will pay more for an item if it's from someone they know and trust. Vendors are more likely to reach out to you with ideas and goods if you have dealt fairly with them in the past.

[If you want to make money, then you must learn how to deal with people just as well as you can deal with numbers. How to read people, discern who is trustworthy and who isn't, divine their motivations and manipulate them into seeing things your way.]

The more she spoke on the matter of trading, the more enthused Enid became. This had been her bread and butter for decades. While her husband had been gone for months on end, delving deep into the Dungeon below, she had been on the road, selling here, buying there, shaking hands and making deals.

[It's going to be difficult for you,] she said, looking down at the little hatchling. [Most people have some form of prejudice against monsters, against ants especially. As an insect, you don't look familiar to them, so it's hard for people to relate, and they can't read your expression, since you don't really have one. Inspiring confidence with those disadvantages will be difficult.]

[That will just make it all the more satisfying when it works,] the hatchlings declared. [Teach me. I will do anything to unlock the power to make money.]

[Anything?]

[Anything!]

The hatchlings' eyes blazed with passion, and Enid sighed. She had seen that look many times before, in people who walked down the dark path, accumulating, ripping off their customers, beating down their competitors with shady methods.

[I will only teach you if you agree to adhere to my standards,] she said. [No funny business.]

Antennae waggling in confusion, the hatchling tilted her head to the side.

[I am very serious about business, teacher. I would never joke about it.]

Enid laughed. Perhaps she had been thinking too deeply. This little ant had already refused to take advantage of her family to outcompete others. She already had a code of values she adhered to.

Just how bad could an ant business magnate really become?

-x-X-x-

[Persuasion, Negotiation and Empathy. These Skills will fuse at rank four and become the foundation on which all of your success will be built. We should also investigate ways you can become a better trader through evolution. There must be organs and mutations that will help. Keep in mind, we can't cross the line. Skills and such are accepted as part of business, but mind-controlling pheromones are not.]

The little ant nodded seriously.

[The Brood Tenders have already been investigating organs and evolutions that will help me. They should be ready soon and I can take my first evolution in the next few days.]

[Have you evolved at all?] Enid asked, looking down at the little ant.

[I haven't.]

A hatchling was quite a small little thing, only coming up to the knee of a normal adult. Too small to be taken seriously. She rubbed at her chin. Perhaps that was a good thing? Appearing harmless was one way to get others to lower their guard, but could be counterproductive when trying to get a seat at the table.

[Let's try to put a cap on the size you are able to become,] she said after some thought. [No more than double your current frame.]

That would make her the size of a newborn pony, waist high on an adult, roughly. Considering ants were much longer than they were tall, that would make her close to the same mass as a human woman. Not large enough to be threatening, and not so large as to lose the disarming nature of being small.

[Now. Listen well while I speak with this shopkeeper. Have you been working on your perception of language?]

[Yes!] the hatchling confirmed.

[Good.]

Working mind to mind was common, but not preferred amongst traders. The first mutation the hatchling had taken had attuned her antennae to the soundwaves of speech, which helped her discern what people were saying. She still had to learn the language to differentiate between the words, which was an ongoing process.

Enid hobbled over to the storefront, leaning heavily on her walking stick. The healers treated her almost daily, which helped a great deal with the pain, but being old couldn't be fixed. It was fine, most had it worse than she did in their retirement.

Getting the hatchling out of the nest and out into the world to practise her Skills and learn hadn't been easy. The Brood Tenders were extremely reluctant to let her out of their sights, but Enid had insisted, and they had eventually allowed it.

"Hello, young man," Enid said as she drew closer, peering down at the fresh fish on display as if her eyesight were significantly worse than it was. "Is this today's catch?"

"Welcome, grandmother," the storekeeper said warmly. "Everything in these three trays is fresh off the boats today. Those two trays are yesterday's catch that has been cool stored overnight. Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

Enid shot the hatchling a significant look, and the little ant nodded. She'd already known not all the fish were fresh, but the trader had been honest and answered openly.

"What's the discount for the old fish?" she asked, curling her lip a little. "Half price at least, surely?"

She disparaged the goods and put in a preliminary offer, just using the barest hint of her Skill. If she went all out, the man would put his guard up, and she didn't want that. There was an art to this sort of thing, and Enid found she had missed it.

"Please, grandmother," the storekeeper smiled, "why would I be paying so much for my expensive storeroom if I sell them at half-price? I even packed them with fresh ice this morning. A quarter off the full value is what I charge."

"A quarter?" Enid widened her eyes in shock. "So if this bream is a copper sovereign, then that one is a three copper?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Are you trying to take advantage of me, young man?"

She raised her walking stick and waved it in a warning gesture and the shopkeeper held up both hands while laughing.

"Of course not, grandmother, only trying to make an honest living. I'll tell you what, if you want this bream," he selected a large specimen and held it up for her to admire, "I believe I can let it go for two copper as celebration of this fortuitous meeting."

Enid smiled warmly.

"Such a well spoken young man," she said, reaching for her purse.

As she paid, the shopkeeper wrapped the fish in fresh leaves that he packed with some crushed ice. The two chatted for a time, Enid asking about the market, the fishing customs of the area and business in general. When it was done, the two shook hands before walking away, the hatchling trailing after Enid, antennae waving.

[How much of that did you get?]

[Most of it… I think.]

[And?]

[You managed to negotiate down the price.]

[Pshaw. That wasn't the important bit. The important bit was after the sale.]

[When… you talked about fishing?]

[Building rapport, learning about the local trade, making connections,] Enid said, poking the little ant in the side with her walking stick. [What we are going to do for the next few months is have you engage in as many of those sorts of conversations as possible. You will talk and talk and talk and talk until you can make conversation with a beggar or a king just as easily. When you get used to it, we will start making small trades, then work our way up to some more significant business. Do you understand?]

[You want me to use that thing?]

[Of course! Mastering it will be one of your most important lessons. Now, that fellow is selling fruit. Let's go buy a few apples and see what you can learn.]

-x-X-x-

"Enid Ruther, as I live and breathe! I'm surprised to see you out and about."

With a golden monocle, broad moustache, and heavy paunch, Riggurt looked every inch the wealthy merchant baron that he was. Leaning heavily on her walking stick, Enid smiled and leaned in for a soft hug, patting her old friend on the back. She looked around his opulent office within Rylleh, much the same as she remembered it. Plush, purple carpets, expensive ornaments and artwork on the walls, the fireplace of fire-veined marble with burning lines of red throughout the rock.

She accepted the merchant's invitation to sit and lowered herself into the chair with a sigh. It was good to get off her feet. Obviously she hadn't walked here, but the journey had still taken a toll.

"I'm surprised the Colony didn't grab more of this when they came through," she said, using a single finger to indicate the obvious wealth on display.

At the time, the Colony had viewed such a concentration of wealth as inefficient and selfish, taking huge chunks out of wealthy houses after absorbing a new city into their territory.

In fact, their opinion hadn't changed, she was pretty sure. What was anyone going to do about it? Complain? She was sure that many had tried to point out that it amounted to theft under the law, but the Colony had learned long ago that they also had rights as conquerors within the Dungeon. They were allowed to take the victor's portion, and they never took more than they were allowed.

"They did," Riggurt grimaced. "It has taken me some time to rebuild my collection, but I have always ensured that I have enough liquid assets tucked away in safe places to help me bounce back. My less prudent competitors suffered far greater than I."

He flashed a grin and stroked his chin before he clapped his hands. Moments later, an attendant stepped into the office with a steaming pot of tea and a lemon sponge cake.

"My favourite," Enid exclaimed, eyes widening with surprise. "I'm shocked you remembered."

"Please. Your late husband, Derrion, begged me to find the best baker in the free cities for your lemon sponge. Years and years of it, I will never forget the quest for the sponge."

Riggurt smiled warmly at the fond memories before he shook himself out of his reflective mood.

"Now, please. Your letter said that you had taken on an apprentice! I have to meet them. What sort of special individual have you taken on? They must be impressive, to warrant your teaching."

"Pah. I was never that wealthy," she said, turning to the door.

"You didn't want to be," Riggurt stated solemnly.

A few moments later, the door opened, but nobody came through. Riggurt frowned for a moment, wondering what his assistant was doing, only for a small ant to step around the couch a moment later. A little startled, he controlled his reaction, only to double take as the monster came a little closer.

Was she… wearing glasses?

Also… gold rings? And clothing?!

Technically, what the ant wore might not necessarily be considered clothing as it was more of a covering. An elegant, woven cloth draped over the ant's back with tasteful, yet expensive-looking embroidery around the edges.

"Very pleased to meet you," the ant said aloud, extending a leg. "I am Mistress Enid's student, Merchant."

Riggurt's eyes widened. Was he… hearing this ant?

Enid smiled at his confusion.

"The ants have created a neat device that translates their pheromonal language into sound. There are only a few in existence, but they gave one to Merchant, since she speaks to so many people."

That would explain why the voice had sounded… a little offputting. Cold, perhaps, or alien. Whether that was down to the technology, or the mind of the ant, he couldn't say.

After a little hesitation, he extended his hand and shook the offered leg.

"The pleasure is mine," he said, with a warm smile.

He might be a little off put, but business was business. First impressions mattered. Three firm shakes, then he released the leg, leaning back in his chair, mind racing.

The little ant retreated somewhat, then turned to Enid.

"You were right, Mistress Enid."

"Of course I was," the old woman groused, but he could see she was pleased, rather than upset. "An old fox like Riggurt isn't going to slip up just because you take him by surprise. First impressions matter. Right, Riggurt?"

He grinned.

"They absolutely do," he affirmed. "Connections are everything to a merchant. Establishing a warm rapport, gaining trust and following through. These are the foundations of every proper business partnership."

He studied the little ant once more, then laughed.

"I see. It makes sense now."

The glasses, the covering, even the rings. Any good merchant knew how to read people, to learn as much as they could about a person from their garb, their hands, the way they comported themselves. When assessing a potential business partner, deals could fall through or succeed based on impressions.

Dressed as she was, the little ant gave an impression of tasteful wealth, quiet competence and hidden intelligence.

"Well done, Enid," he said, lifting his tea cup in salute. "I see you've put some thought into it, but have you actually taught her something of value, or just how to look the part?"

"Well, you'll have to tell me," his old friend said, taking a long sip from her own cup.

He raised his brows.

"I'm not sure what you mean?"

"If you'll allow me to explain," the little ant said smoothly, hopping up into her own chair. "I have come to you with a business proposition. If you are amenable, I would be glad to share the details."

Sliding a sideways glance at Enid, who merely smiled over the rim of her cup, Riggurt turned his full attention to Merchant, assessing her with his Skills and years of experience.

Was his old friend really going to throw this cub to the lions? It wasn't like her, but then, maybe she had grown ruthless in her old age. Out of respect for Enid, he would do nothing less than cut this ant down to the bone, financially speaking.

"Please. Speak freely," he said with an inviting gesture and carefully pleasant expression.

An hour later, he moved to brush his hair back, neatly hiding the need to wipe sweat from his forehead with the gesture. Enid saw it of course, looking smug in her chair. He shot her an irritated glance.

She would spring this on him unprepared! Of course she would… she was a merchant at heart! He was at fault for being unprepared.

The little ant had proved far more capable than he thought, and the business opportunity was … intriguing.

Cool as an ever-ice cucumber, Merchant reached a leg inside her sash.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" she said, withdrawing a rolled cigar. The rich scent of tobacco rolled over to Riggurt and his eye twitched.

Where had she gotten that?

With a click of her claws, Merchant lit the cigar before placing it into her mouth.

"Now," she said, a wicked gleam in her eyes, "shall we discuss pricing?"

-x-X-x-

The Colony didn't, and in many ways still doesn't, understand money. There is no trade within the family, no exchange of any kind, for most ants. Almost none of them will ever have any sort of interaction with currency. Their needs are provided for, and they labour for the Colony gladly, without any expectation or need for remuneration.

Although there is an enormous amount of commerce that occurs between the Colony and others, these transactions are handled by exceptionally few individuals. If we were to consider the number of ants involved in the negotiating and setting of terms for these trades, those numbers fall even further.

Tthe number of ants who actually understand the value of things, who are capable of navigating the nuances of interpersonal relationships, legal obligations and market forces, then the list is reduced to one.

-Excerpt from the personal notes of Historiant

"Gate travel is cheaper."

"Gate travel was cheaper."

The little ant took another puff of her cigar, tapping the ash into a crystal receptacle that she herself had provided. For some reason, Riggurt had the impression that she was smiling at him. Was it the tilt of the antennae? The shape of the mandibles?

And not a friendly smile either. The smile of a predator looking at their prey, knowing they were already caught, knowing there wasn't any way out.

Riggurt always wanted a way out.

"The Colony has raised prices on gate travel?" he asked, sitting forward in his chair.

If so, it would have ripple effects across all of the independent cities absorbed by the Colony in the second and first strata. Say what you would about the ants, they ran the gate network as efficiently as the Legion setting up camp. Gate operating times were four times what they'd been before, and each trip was practically free. Considering the number of cities added to the network over the last year, Rylleh was connected to more places than before they'd been conquered.

Trade was booming, and that was an understatement.

If the Colony was planning to raise gate prices… several of Riggurt's own businesses could be in jeopardy. It all depended on how large the rise was. Ten to twenty percent he could absorb, more than that and his margins would be uncomfortably squeezed.

"Indeed, a fifty percent price rise," Merchant said, twirling her fore limb and watching the smoke spiral through the air.

There was something about the tobacco leaf that appealed to her. Was it the heady, earthy scent? The smoke? Or perhaps she simply enjoyed using it as a tool, a way to display a sense of affluence and power. After speaking to business people all over the Dungeon, many of whom enjoyed a smoke, she'd tried it for the first time and quickly grew to enjoy a fine cigar.

Already she had invested in Colony-grown tobacco. She was counting on her sisters to unlock the secrets behind the finest and most expensive of cigars. She didn't even intend to sell them, oh no, that would be a waste. As a gift, an exclusive token of appreciation given to trusted partners, that was what she wanted them for.

"FIFTY?" Riggurt choked, face growing red.

"Indeed."

"That's insane! The Merchant Council won't stand for it!"

Merchant clicked her mandibles a few times, a jaunty rhythm that put Riggurt in mind of a chuckle.

"There are a few relevant truths, my friend, that are worth remembering," she said warmly. "First, the Colony has a monopoly on gate access, and that isn't going to change."

Knowledge of how to construct gates was extremely restricted. The resources needed to build them weren't cheap to come by either. Even if someone were somehow able to muster both, the Colony, just like anyone in control of territory on Pangera, was not willing to allow outsiders to manage an unrestricted gate network within their domain.

"Secondly, our prices are still less than half of what you would be charged in other kingdoms and empires. Fact of the matter is, the Colony was being too generous and providing the service for far less than it cost. There is no reason for us to subsidise your businesses."

This was true, sort of. Merchant understood very well that the Colony didn't actually pay for any of the things that were used to create and maintain the gate. Labour costs were technically zero, as were material costs, along with research and development and maintenance and all the rest.

But all those things didn't just appear out of thin air, either. She'd been forced to calculate differently when it came to the Colony. Opportunity cost. If all of that labour, and all of those resources, were directed into other, more profitable industries, then what did the family stand to gain?

As it turned out, quite a lot!

It had become obvious that the fees collected for using gate travel had to increase, and significantly. Now the ants working on the gates, and the resources that went into maintaining and operating them, were bringing in a return.

This would have a dampening effect on some forms of commerce, naturally, but in some ways, it would make businesses more protected.

Merchant knew very well that Riggurt had set himself up as a distributor, using the gate network to buy from one place and sell in another. By cutting his margins down, he'd been able to drive his competition in other cities out of business. Riggurt benefited, but the local economy in other places suffered.

"Of course, I know this leaves you in something of a rough spot," Merchant said, full of sympathy. She took another long puff on her cigar. "Which is why I really wanted to speak with you. After all, with the cost of gate travel rising so precipitously, moving goods through the Dungeon tunnels will become economically viable again."

Gate travel had become so cheap that manually moving goods through the Dungeon itself had fallen almost entirely by the wayside. Wagoneers, guards, Dungeon experts, all of them had been forced to go into Delving work, no longer able to rely on the safer and more reliable income from joining caravans.

"An enterprising individual such as yourself should be able to make a tidy profit if they act quickly and offer contracts to snatch up the best men and women that Rylleh has to offer."

Riggurt nodded slowly.

"And how do you stand to profit from all this?"

Merchant cleaned her antennae casually.

"Why, by partnering with you and others with our special Colony-Safe guarantee. Trouble in the tunnels will be a thing of the past, and all traders will have peace of mind knowing the Colony will come to save them from any danger. You'll find the fees are entirely reasonable."