ORIGIN

Aethereal shivered. Not because of temperature--Pegasus' orb-light was warm on her fur, and her fever had abated after the first few days--but simply from thinking about the Black Spire. She nearly always felt much better after visiting it in Draco. The Oil had stopped leaking from her mouth and vents, and the whispers of chaos in her mind lessened.

The visits themselves were another matter entirely, though. She could never feel comfortable around any Spire. Always jumpy, always expecting its magic to lash out and inflict unbearable pain. Even if she knew, rationally, that the Black Spire had never hurt her as the one in Polaris had, she couldn't bring herself to visit it more than she did. And then there was Vargas and his ilk. They had not threatened her since her first visit, but she felt oddly exposed whenever she went to Draco. Were they watching her? she'd wonder. Were they judging her? Plotting among themselves? Waiting for the perfect opportunity?

She wished she could be small, sometimes. Utterly insignificant. Not worth anyone's time to notice or worry about. That was safest.

For now, she'd enjoy this brief period of stabilization while she could. Another day or two, and it'd worsen as it always did. Might as well put the thoughts about the nasty visit behind her, and focus on what was good while it lasted. Aethereal circled the area at her feet before settling, lying down with a soft fwump. Her front claws sank into the soil, feeling its cool moisture against her skin.

When Cygnus froze, so did Aethereal. Not that she was scared, necessarily. Just... wary. The deer in Pegasus were so annoyingly aggressive, and where there was one, there tended to be many others. Being an obvious predator, they tended not to react well to her presence.

But after a moment, she relaxed again. There was no alarm call, nor the thundering of hooves that signaled a defensive formation. It looked like a deer attack wasn't going to ruin her one day of peacefulness after all. Maybe it was another person? Assuming it wasn't a failed ambush, it might even be nice to talk to someone else for once. She spent most of her time alone, but it felt pretty... chaotic when it was just her and the chaos whispering into her mind for long periods of time. Like sand grinding in your teeth, if the sand also urged you to destroy everything in sight.

She raised her head, 'facing' the sound. "Is someone there?"

... No? Aethereal's head tilted slightly, exhaling softly with amusement. "All right, then. Thanks for answering my question, though."

Her wingtips drooped at the mention of fighting in Ursa. So the battle had happened after all. How did it turn out? she wondered. Had the dragons gotten their family back? Was Temperantia there? The thought of the righteous ring, corrupted to a mockery of their former self, sent a wave of pity through her chest. Would she become like that eventually?

Did anyone die?

Large gembound, a war party of valkhounds like her, Mother and her myriad siblings—what were the chances that no one had died? Maybe this was one of the questions she didn't want answers to. Maybe it would stay in her head and torment her regardless.

"I wasn't there." The words tasted like acid. "Do you know-" no, no, she shouldn't ask, she shouldn't ask- "what happened?"

Aethereal wished she could take her question and swallow it like a slimy chunk of whiteling. She should've asked Pride. Or James. But honestly, she didn't think she'd have been able to work up the courage if she'd had to go all the way to Orion to find Pride anyway. Why do that, when she could just live life avoiding the hard conversations and unpalatable answers?

Aethereal felt the tension in her shoulders drain--was she disappointed, or relieved? She genuinely couldn't tell. What she did know was that the idea of finding someone else (James? Pride?) was distinctly unpalatable. What would they think of her chaotic state, worse now than ever before? Of the Blackflies that constantly accompanied her? And would they attempt to lecture her on Mother again?

What if someone died? How much worse would their animosity be? Aethereal was not expecting anything good to come of asking. She'd made it this far in life without knowing what happened. She could manage.

"It was... the smart thing to do," she said to the gentle voice. "Only bad things happen to people in battles." Unless it was a justified one, and they'd actually won and managed to take back their family, then that would be a good thing, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it?

It didn't matter, anyway. Aethereal wasn't here to philosophize on battles and war, so why not stop thinking about all the ways to potentially amend that statement? "I'm a Valkhound," she said. Describing herself that way didn't really feel right, though. Like it was subtly rubbing her fur in the wrong direction. The word conjured up images of chaos and alien war again, and Aethereal wasn't that.

"My name is Aethereal, though," and that felt better. "I like that name more." Inspiration struck, feeding off curiosity. How big was this guy? Wouldn't it be nice to... see? Maybe she could do it through one of the Lesser Gembound here, like Pride and Mischief. The magic slipped out of her grasp, though, and she let it go with disappointment. "What's your name?"

Recalling Ursa through Cygnus' descriptions made her feel peaceful. Yes, there could be nothing more beautiful than the feeling of wind blowing through fur, more refreshing than cold water that tasted crystal clear next to the dripping rot of Oil, or more calming than the feeling of snow under her claws. They could all have a peaceful, quiet life like that, if only the armies of Order and Chaos would leave well enough alone. Cygnus had the right idea, she thought.

"Cygnus is a nice name too," and Aethereal wasn't as poetic as he was, but she could try. "It sounds peaceful." Like the Drowned Forest at nighttime, its surface utterly still.

'You're really pretty, you know.' Huh. That was kind of a new one. Definitely unexpected, with the wreath of corrupted magic that surrounded her. The side effects had only multiplied since her hatching. She wondered, too, how one could see softness or strongness. Aethereal had seen herself once, through the eyes of the Cleaners in the tunnels—but she hadn't felt so relaxed or pristine in a long time, and thinking about that brought up a whole other host of feelings that didn't want to be deciphered.

"Thanks," she replied, unsure what else to say. "Yeah, I can. Ursa's the best place to fly. The wind is so refreshing, you can go really high up, and there's always snow when you land." Even when the air grew thin, she could force it around her to breathe with magic and fly as high as the Ghostbirds. I should do that again!

"You said you were a guide," she continued. "Have you been to lots of places?"