Chrysalis

Beyn was troubled in spirit, something he had rarely been during his life. He remembered his time in the seminary, training to serve The Path. Even at that young age, his spirit had burned with certainty and divine purpose. He had risen long before the sun and slept long after it had set, devoting his every waking moment to the scripture, his meditations and the development of his oratory skills. It had been a simple time of purity and growth, one that he was fond of.

But the measure of his devotion in those years would pale in comparison to the blaze that would awaken in his later life. With the loss of his arm, an even greater purpose would be revealed to him, a deeper truth! And yet, he was unable to serve as he so desired!

"Priest Beyn. How are you feeling?"

He was dragged from his thoughts by a voice and he turned to see one of the true believers, Margaret, approaching him with concern.

"I am fine, sister," he assured her, "my symptoms have abated at last and I make haste to the temple to join our brethren."

A look of relief flashed over the middle aged woman's face.

We feared the worst when

of Coolant, he might have died down there, but he was saved when he was dragged to the surface by a soldier that gripped him around the waist with its mandibles. Almost all of the brethren who'd joined him in the nest

wanted to keep it quiet, he knew of the great challenge that faced the Colony at this time, how could he not sense the tension that was in the air? More than anything he yearned to lend his support, to aid and abet the great Colony and the Great One as they fended

with nowhere to direct it! If he didn't find a way to channel these emotions he felt as if he might just

him on his walk through the streets of Renewal as he walked toward the church. Many people called out to him and he waved back to them with his remaining arm, stopping

well to the word, haven't they?" Margaret noted with obvious pride. "I

Beyn only smiled.

impressive when it was done. In Beyn's eyes this would be largely due to the way the building incorporated the Colony, with viewing hatches built into the walls, wide doors to allow them to enter and the ant designed seating Beyn had witnessed in the nest. In his mind, every building in the town should be able to accommodate the

his feet to tarry and Margaret had to hurry to keep up with him as he strode toward the Church. The feelings of helplessness he experienced during his convalescence had built within him

taken an interest in their work. The congregation had watched with bated breath as the Colony member

enough to soothe the pain in his heart and he struggled for a moment to restrain the tears that threatened to fall as he took in the sheer beauty before him. There were always people who gathered outside the building to admire it, but Beyn had no time for them today. Normally he would stay to speak, perhaps even preach, but not today. He moved through the people,