Chapter 1604 – Choir of the Colony

There was a rising sense of urgency amongst the Brood Tenders. They worked as they always did, with a sense of calm and control. They were the most critical workers in the entire Colony, tasked with the greatest responsibility, to care for and raise the future generations. They were an unshakeable force whose cool and calm was impossible to rattle.

Yet this situation was unlike anything Theresant had seen before.

The young Chal would simply not stop singing.

The Tenders had tried to distract them. It didn’t work.

They’d encouraged them to sleep, to no avail.

Offering them toys, or activities, or food, none of it had worked. Being so exhausted, they were beginning to droop and fall over, passing out as they became overwhelmed with fatigue.

Theresant herself had led an effort to communicate with the hatchlings via performative dance, but the attempt had failed miserably, the young chal not even acknowledging their efforts.

If the situation continued for much longer, the young ones might suffer permanent damage to their voices. Thinking of the stress and suffering her charges were enduring was enough to cause Theresant to grind her mandibles in frustration. This was entirely intolerable to the Brood Tenders! They had to do something.

And yet, no matter what they tried, nothing worked. They were down to one, final idea, little as they believed in it.

“We have no choice,” Theresant announced. “According to the Colony’s singular music expert, the chal are calling out to someone, hoping for a reply. If that’s the case, we will need to create that reply ourselves. Mozant!” she snapped.

Alone in the corner, antennae gently swaying in the air as she ‘listened’ to the music, the ant jumped.

“Wha? What?”

“You must write a reply to the hatchlings. Quickly! We will find a way to perform it and hope that they are satisfied.”

“M-me?!” Mozant said, aghast. “Write the music? I am unworthy!”

“Who else can do it?” Theresant demanded, her normal calm, nurturing attitude fracturing in the heat of the moment. “The rest of us have only understood the basic elements of musical structure that we’ve taught to the young ones. None of us can write music. Only you can.”

“B-but you don’t understand! Their song is such… such a thing of beauty! Anything I wrote would only sully it!”

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, it only has to satisfy the hatchlings,” Theresant replied, impatient. “Or are you satisfied to watch as they sing themselves unconscious?”

Despite her reservations, Mozant was still a Brood Tender; she could not bear to let the young suffer. Gritting her mandibles, she firmed her will.

“Very well. I will try. Clear me a space. A space, I said! I must create!”

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So saying, Mozant swept back the shock of white ‘hair’ atop her head, causing it to fuzz up wildly as the writing materials of the Colony were summoned for her to begin.

So began a nervous wait as the Brood Tenders continued to do all they could to ensure the hatchlings were comfortable while Mozant underwent her creative process.

As it turned out, it was quite a process.

“DISGUSTING! APPALLING! It makes me SICK!” she roared, throwing the piece she had been working to the side with a violent sweep of a foreleg. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! This isn’t right, not right at all!”