Chapter 140: Book 2 Epilogue

They had disappeared. The scorpion tried to force its way into the strange, noisy circle after them, but couldn’t. It went a little mad, digging innumerable tunnels around the thing that had taken away its best (and only) friends, trying to find a way to follow them.

 

It returned to its room and waited for them to come back. Maybe they didn’t know where it was? It should help them. But how? They couldn’t hear it dance.

 

Perhaps it should sing the song that thrummed through its body.

 

There, in the only space it had ever known, the scorpion sang the song that had freed it. It was a hissing, screechy sound, air forced through a carapace, but into that song the scorpion poured all the emotions it had just learned.

 

It sang of the empty-eyed man who had taught it this tune, a promise of freedom and hope. Of the lady who looked like a scorpion, born with a dozen faces, none of them hers. It warned of the cold man, who smelt of fire and blood, and the giggling ghost that the others had feared.

 

Into the ballad of freedom it wove its impression of the man who was and was not there, and his companion, the ever-smiling woman made of fractures. And finally it told of its best friend, who had shown it how to dance.

 

It had wanted to kill its friends at first, but the song had drowned out the urge, giving it the space to want more.

 

On and on the scorpion sang, of loneliness, of waiting, of searching.

 

Until its call was answered.

 

There were strange, thumping sounds of bodies hitting platforms, skittering, scraping noises as dozens of creatures made their way down to the scorpion’s room, drawn in by the song that now flourished within them all.

 

They shuffled and rolled towards the creature easily five times their size, and the scorpion recognised them as same. They weren’t afraid; instead they hurried to embrace the scorpion, thrilled at being picked up by its giant pincers, and chittered or hummed their own songs, adding layers upon layers of meaning.

 

The scorpion showed them the dance it had learned from its friend; a dance that spoke of living in deep, dark places, and the joy at discovering there was a whole new world, where one could move freely, where bright balls of light that felt like warm hugs danced with one across the sky, where there was plenty to eat and always something new to explore.

 

The complex melody built and built, each being adding their own verse, until the scorpion wanted to burst with emotion.

 

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Instead it decided to dig.

 

It left the tunnels wide open behind it, so its family could join it, their claws and hands always touching, helping, as it dug and dug, searching for the skies it had been told of. There was some slight resistance as it got a certain distance away from its room but it pushed through, riding on the power of the song.

 

Then it slammed into a much stronger barrier. The dirt before it looked no different, but it couldn’t dig through it. So, instead, it dug up, scraping its body against the side of the barrier, searching for a flaw.

 

It punched through the last of the dirt, and realised it had reached the place its best friend had told it about via dance.

 

It was on the surface.

 

The balls of light were bright, brighter than anything it had ever seen, and it did indeed feel like what the scorpion imagined a warm hug would feel like. There was a breeze, a gentle wind that didn’t carry the roar of racing sand. And the smells! It was a medley of sensations hammering into the scorpion and its newfound family.

 

Scuttling around in place, the scorpion saw the desert sands abruptly ended where the barrier was, and on the other side was grasslands. A pack of strange creatures were on the other side of the barrier, four-legged, hairy things that stared at the explorers.

 

The scorpion pressed one of its claws against the invisible barrier. Its family were beside it, pushing, helping, singing.

 

The scorpion wanted to see more of the world. It wanted to see everything. It wanted to make new friends, and tell everyone of the beautiful song that had freed it.

 

A hole tore in the barrier, and the scorpion and family tumbled through it. The strange creatures from the other side jumped back, afraid but not hostile. This was something totally new.

 

Drawing itself up to its full height, the scorpion looked at its new-new friends. It knew what it had to do. It knew what it had to share.

 

It sang.

 

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