Chrysalis

Peter and the steadily growing audience of farmers continued to become more invested in watching the Colony members compete in this strange activity, showing up everyday to talk, laugh and spectate.

Even when the teams they had been following so closely moved on to other things and a new group came through, their passion wasn't dimmed. In fact, it was further inflamed. A new 'season', watching the 'players' grow from their hopeless first attempts and build their strategy and skills as they went, added a whole new dimension to the experience.

For Peter, he found himself enjoying those afternoons spent by the anthill more and more as time went past. So unexpected, so welcome. The longer it went on, the more he and the others wanted to invest themselves in this pastime. He and Andis had been in the process of building a more permanent and comfortable seating setup on the side of the pit when they were finally approached by a member of the Colony.

[What are you doing over there?]

The voice rang inside the old farmer's head and for a moment, he had no idea what had happened. He swung his head wildly, staring up at the sky to try and see where the voice was coming from. Only when he noticed a smallish ant down in the pit staring up at him did he realise what had happened.

Mind magic. One of the ants was speaking to him directly! A first for him.

[Uh,] he tried thinking, [can you hear me?]

[I can.]

The voice was definitely female, and faintly amused. He swallowed and did his best to answer properly.

[We are… my friend and I, that is, are trying to make some seating. So we can sit… I suppose… a bit more comfortably when we come to watch.]

[I can see that much for myself. I'm wondering why you come to watch at all.]

Well that was a question. Peter found himself flummoxed for a moment, but then decided to be perfectly honest.

[It's fun,] he said.

[Fun?] the ant replied, her antennae waggling in confusion. [Watching young ants going through their training exercises is fun?]

Again, there was a lot he could say, but he decided to just be honest.

[Yes.]

He nodded for emphasis.

[Why?]

Well now. With an invitation like that, he could no longer resist. He launched into a ten minute long diatribe on the wonderful viewing experience the 'training exercise' was. The powerful feelings of enjoyment from watching the ants learn and improve, the incredible expression of skill and ability, grit and determination that made a team a winning one. The tactical depth of the game was endless, the ability of the collective to work together bottomless, the capacity of an individual to create a winning play on their own, inspiring. When he finally ran out of words, the ant continued to stare up at him quietly for a moment.

[I see,] she replied.

[If I can,] he blurted, [could I ask what the purpose of this exercise is? And what's it called?]

[As you've noticed, this exercise is to develop the tactical ability of the groups, whilst giving them an environment to train and develop their Skills. The activity is simply a challenge that they must work together to solve, utilising everything they have at their disposal. By working against other groups, the challenge adapts to them and their approach, forcing them to continually seek improvement. My sisters and I have used this as part of the academy training for several months now, and we find it pays dividends down the line as the graduates are experienced working in diverse teams before they leave our care.]

[Your sisters?]

[The Brood Tenders.]

A brood tender? Here?! They were very rarely seen outside of the nests, as he understood it. He stood a little straighter and tried to find a more polite way to stand, giving up after a few moments of awkward fidgeting.

[We call it Tunnel Ball,] she said. [Though the name doesn't really matter.]

Tunnel Ball. It worked.

They continued to discuss the training and what the humans got from it, until eventually the ant bid him farewell and disappeared underground. He and Andis had finished up the work and gone home, only to reappear the next day to find everything had changed.

The small row of seats they had arranged were gone, their labour obliterated. In their place was a huge construction of tiered seating, with room for hundreds of spectators, most of which were full.

"There you are, darling!" a voice called.

Peter turned in slack-jawed shock to see his wife in the front row, with her best dress on and a broad grin on her face.

"I didn't know this was where you were disappearing to every day. I thought you were drinking at the tavern or something."

"Renita…" he said, "why are you here?"

"You didn't hear? I swear you and those men never listen to anything that goes on in the town. The invitation went out yesterday evening for people to come and watch an event. The whole town's been buzzing about it. There wasn't even seating for everyone who showed up, they're in the process of fixing that, I think."

She pointed over his shoulder and Peter turned to see a dozen or so ants climbing about on the other side of the pit. Moments later, stone began to take shape, seemingly out of thin air, as they began to build a mirrored seating arrangement on the other side of the pit.

"It's very exciting," Renita said, eyes sparkling, "the Colony never invites us to anything, I wonder what they have in store."

The farmer could only shake his head. What had that Brood Tender gone and done? And why so quickly? They really didn't work in half measures….

[There you are.]

He turned to see the ant from yesterday standing right behind him.

[Ah! I mean… hello.]

[I've been waiting for you to arrive. We need you to explain what is happening here today to the audience.]

[What?] he said stupidly.

But it was too late, he had already been dragged away to a small platform situated on one corner of the pit with a beautiful view overlooking the field.

[Talk into this stone here, it's enchanted to amplify your voice. Wait until everyone is seated and then we can begin.]

[What is happening?] he blurted out.

The ant waggled her antennae in amusement.

[We are often confused about ways to reach out and build connections with the non-monsters we live alongside. When you explained what you had been doing yesterday, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to involve the community more with the Colony. Right, wait a few minutes and then we'll start.]

She patted him on the shoulder.

[You'll do fine,] she said.

He found that strangely encouraging, then realised it probably had something to do with her specialised nature as a teacher. The old farmer sweated it out for a few long minutes until he received the signal. It had only taken that long to construct the simple seating and get the rest of the audience in place, all dressed in their finest clothing and chatting excitedly.

"Ahem. Welcome," he started.

All eyes turned on him. He froze. Then swallowed and continued. He explained how he had stumbled on the ants training one day, and how interesting he had found it, how exciting and enjoyable an experience it had been. He quickly explained the rules of Tunnel Ball, particular things to watch out for, and then it started. Two teams of ants came out under the watchful eyes of over a thousand people. They didn't seem to care, though, going into their little huddles before the start of play.

Peter continued to talk as things wound into gear. Once he started to describe the intricacies of his newfound passion, the words came easily. The crowd listened as he explained what was happening and they watched, enraptured, as the ants slapped each other back and forth, discussing their approach, then waited with bated breath as the two teams made their way down into the pit.

He experienced a brief moment of pure panic as he considered that the audience might not find it as interesting as he and his friends did. Suddenly, it seemed a little ridiculous that he would gain such enjoyment from watching monster ants run around with a rock in their mandibles.

He needn't have worried.

When the team on the right scored with an impressive run from a speedy little ant who dove under a looming soldier to make the play, the crowd erupted in rapturous applause.

Renewal would never be the same again.