The light seemed to dim in Silak's eyes, the vibrant enthusiasm from moments before replaced by a quiet, somber weight. Iskra watched her son, her heart aching with a familiar pang of sympathy. She let out a soft sigh, the sound barely disturbing the air. It was no surprise that the thought of leaving Senior Gahumdagat behind was disheartening for him. Silak had no friends his own age; between his parents and the ancient guardian beast, his circle of trusted confidants was painfully small.
After a long moment of silence, Silak drew in a deep, steadying breath, his shoulders straightening with renewed resolve. "I understand, Father, Mother," he said, his voice clear despite the turmoil inside.
"Do we know when the tribe plans to begin the migration?" he asked, his mind already shifting to logistics and timelines.
His father, Bayani, replied, "We are awaiting the final reports from our scouting parties. They were sent to confirm the suitability of a few potential locations. We should hear from them within weeks. Once a site is chosen and prepared, the migration itself will likely take a few months to complete."
'Weeks, then months…' Silak calculated internally. A wave of relief washed over him. 'That's enough. It should be enough time to convince Senior Gahumdagat to come with us.'
"Alright," he said, pushing his chair back. "Let me help clear the table, Mother."
He stacked the wooden bowls and plates with a practiced ease. Wiping down the sturdy mahogany table, he could almost hear his father's voice from his earliest training days: "A warrior who relies on others for his basic needs is a warrior with a fatal weakness. Self-reliance is the first and most important battle you must win." It was the core tenet of the Tala ng Gubat. Their royalty was not defined by luxury and servants, but by strength and responsibility. A prince was not a figure to be pampered, but a blade to be honed, ever-ready to protect his people.
The familiar path to the cave dwelling felt different today. The air was heavier, the shadows in the forest deeper and more menacing. Silak moved with a newfound caution, his senses on high alert. The rustle of leaves was no longer just the wind, but a potential threat. The distant snap of a twig made his hand instinctively drift toward the small knife at his belt. His parents' warning was not just a story; it was a palpable tension that now saturated his home.
His plan was simple: first, speak with the Senior. Then, on his way back, he would visit the forge and inform Dwalin of the tribe's impending move. The master smith was another pillar of his small world, and he deserved to hear the news personally.
It didn't take long for him to reach the cave's entrance and navigate the familiar, winding tunnels. The air grew cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth, ancient stone, and something else… a faint, electric tang of immense, dormant power. Deeper inside, he saw the colossal form of Gahumdagat, coiled in a state of deep hibernation. The massive beast hadn't appeared to have moved an inch since his last visit, its sheer scale filling the cavernous space.
"Senior!" Silak's voice echoed off the stone walls, sounding small and frail in the vast chamber. "Senior Gahumdagat! I apologize for disturbing your rest, but I have something urgent to discuss with you."
For a moment, there was only silence. Then, with a sound like grinding stones, the huge creature stirred. Dust and small pebbles rained down from its body as it slowly unfurled its upper half, its head the size of a large boulder rising from the gloom. Two immense, reptilian eyes, glowing with a faint, internal light, swiveled to fix upon him. A voice, ancient and resonant as the earth itself, bloomed directly inside Silak's mind.
["Hmph. What could be so urgent as to interrupt a century's slumber, little prince?"] The telepathic words were not just heard but felt, a deep vibration in his very soul.
Silak's rehearsed speech vanished from his mind. He suddenly felt very small, very young. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Uhm… Senior, I heard from my parents that a powerful beast is causing great turmoil deep in the forest."
He chose his words carefully, starting with the context rather than the demand. He had no leverage here, no grand treasure to offer. All he had was the truth and a desperate hope.
"This disturbance has broken the forest's balance," he continued, gaining a bit of momentum. "It has pushed many of the native demonic beasts out from the interior and towards the edges, towards our tribe's territory." He paused, letting the weight of the situation settle. "Because of this, my father and the elders have decided the tribe must migrate to a new, safer home."
Gahumdagat remained silent, its glowing eyes unblinking. The ancient mind regarded him with an unnerving stillness, processing the information with a patience born from millennia of existence.
["I see the problem for your tribe. But what does this have to do with me, young one?"] the voice rumbled in his head. ["Are you asking me to hunt this new threat? To solve your chieftain's problem for him?"]
"No!" Silak replied, a jolt of panic shooting through him. The thought was tempting—the idea of this impossibly powerful being solving all their problems—but his father's wisdom prevailed. "Definitely not, Senior! The nature of the threat is unknown. To ask you to investigate would be to risk provoking it, and we cannot risk you. My father made the wise choice to move rather than fight an unknown enemy."
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "My concern… my request… is not about the forest. It's about the tribe. It's about you."
["And what is this urgent request, then?"] Gahumdagat's mental voice was laced with a hint of curiosity, a flicker of interest in the ancient consciousness.
'Here it is. All or nothing.' Silak clenched his fists at his sides, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Senior, I believe you are aware that my tribe… our warriors… have been dwindling in strength for generations. My parents told me it is because of some limitation placed upon our people." He looked up, meeting the beast's colossal gaze directly. "Our future is uncertain. We are growing weaker, and the world is growing more dangerous."
"My request is this," he said, his voice ringing with a desperate sincerity. "When we move, please, come with us. Please continue to be our guardian."