Weeks passed and Sybil laid the three eggs in the nursery. I continued my daily visits from before and doubled them, now coming morning and night. By the time Sybil had laid her eggs, though, the Kha eggs that'd been laid had already hatched and the hatchlings were relocated to a nearby building where they were taught how to speak, to fight, to work, and to hunt.
Dozens of Kha'Tal volunteered to work with the little ones, teaching them about every facet of our lives. Almost half of the hatchlings took quickly to the Kha'Tal teachings, excited to work in the more "domestic" side of the Empire's needs. Even so, their interests ranged from construction to duties more suited to the Kou'Tal, Sik'Tal, or even the ruling Sou'Tal. None had exhibited magical potential, but I was told that Ytte had specific plans about that, and I wasn't going to mess up her plans.
Unsurprisingly, at least once a day when I came by, I watched as Hrackt enjoyed serving as the "prey" for the little ones, leaving just a couple of footprints before scaling a wall and lurking in the corner, or stepping just outside into the snow.
As soon as the hatchlings found their prey, it became an exercise in fighting back without harming the toothy buggers. Hrackt struggled a little with that, his scales not sturdy enough to fully keep himself from exiting the encounter unbloodied, but even so, he loved it. The few times I was pulled in to participate, I served more as a dangerous creature to avoid, teaching them the lesson that some prey was to be ignored. Maybe a lesson I myself could stand to learn, but then again, nobody was perfect, and I needed a flaw somewhere.
"Run!" One of the little ones screamed as he turned a corner and saw me waiting there. The rest of the brood had long since learned to listen to their little Alpha named Siik, and they scampered away in only barely contained terror. I'd never done any harm to them, but when one particularly stubborn member of their pack pushed doggedly towards me and tried to "hunt" me, I'd summarily picked the little female up and put almost her entire body in my mouth. That had scarred the rest of the babies into escaping at the first sight of me. Maybe that was something that they'd need to deal with later in life, terror at the sight of the Zaaktif, but I didn't mind, especially because that wasn't why I was there today.
"I'm not prey nor predator today." I rumbled with a chuckle. "Merely to visit my eggs and help you all."
At that, their little Alpha whistled a command, and the rest fell in line as they followed me and Siik out of their little home and towards the nursery. Once there, they trotted over towards the usual corner I lounged against when I slowly used [Nurturing Enunciation]. I rolled my shoulders and settled into position, the little ones ready to be bolstered by my presence and magic.
Instead of singing anything in particular, I hummed and tickled the few that dared get close enough to me to touch. With the stark difference in my demeanor while singing and humming compared to acting as predator, most of the little ones had no idea what to do. The few that seemed to understand that I was merely playing a part as the predator enjoyed trying to tease me, dancing back and forth out of my reach. Of course, I could have caught them without much effort, but showing them that they could test things and learn was worth it.
With my [Tremorsense], I could feel that my children were slightly stirring where they'd been laid. Their lives were so delicate, and I worried about them, perhaps more than I should have. That there were now two Alqat dedicated to standing outside of the nursery was a testament to my own worry. Then again, I was far from the only one who'd wanted this to happen, every one of the Keel agreeing that the first clutch of Keel eggs being mine and being healthy was auspicious. There was nothing that would be allowed to interrupt their safe growth.
In the center of the room, other clutches had been laid, both Kha, which we were calling the "keelish" now, as well as Khatif. Sybil's suggestions had gone over well with the upper cabinet of the Empire, and we were now using the term "keelish" only to refer to those of our people who had yet to be integrated into the Empire. The designation also helped the Kha that we'd integrated, as it made them feel more important. That self-importance assisted quite a bit with the work that Joral and Shemira had pushed to the greatest speeds we could manage.
As soon as I'd emptied my sonilphon to help the little ones all around me, I stopped my musing and instead took note of my evolutionary requirements for the [Skill]: 41/50. That was close. By my count, that'd leave a mere seven of the remaining hatchlings to have doubled their stat total, and that only by taking care of them for a couple weeks. As Kha, they were about a third of the way to adulthood, so they were already stronger than the most unremarkable Kha. There were 26 of them, which would leave me just short of evolving the Skill when the last of the Kha had doubled their stats.
I stood, and said something I usually said. "If you have any questions, you can ask me, or have me ask someone on your behalf. I can make sure you continue taking the right steps towards becoming Khatif or even Keel."
As always, I waited for a moment, not really expecting a response at this point. To my surprise, the scrappy female that dodged out of my reach more than any other (which was also the one I'd put in my mouth) walked forward and lay her little hand on my calf, as high as she could reach. I squatted down and tried to meet her gaze. She'd grown so much in the past weeks, and I looked forward to seeing what else would change.
"Yes, little one?"
"I want to fight." She said, meeting my gaze quite seriously. Another scrappy female, glorying in combat itself, flashed to my mind and I grinned.
"Who do you want to fight?" I asked, curious.
"You." Her eyes met mine, unblinking and strangely innocent. "I want to be strongest. Strongest in Empire."
"You can certainly try." I replied, keeping myself from getting competitive with the child in front of me. "Do you have a name, little one?"
"No." She replied. "I not… I didn't like Bruuk."
"Not a bad name." I replied. "But how about Wisterl?"
She cocked her head and stood a little taller. Then, with a wide grin, she replied, "I like Wisterl."
"She would like to be your namesake." I chuckled. "Welcome to the Empire, Wisterl."