ORIGIN - Family

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Immediately upon materialisation, Spark's talon shot out to grasp the banana, and they set to work on peeling and consuming it. They noted that this one was bigger than the first they'd receive, wondering how big the tasty objects came. This quickly escalated to fanciful wonderings about bananas as big as them, as big as the caves. If they had known of celestial bodies, their thoughts would be filled with bananas in orbit. Replacing the rings of Saturn perhaps, or the moons of Jupiter. They did not know of any of those things unfortunately, and the bananas in their mind remained woefully stagnant.

Pride set to explaining, which was significantly less interesting to listen to without the accompanying visuals. Still, they tried, and quickly they were caught in a contradiction. Masters of the cave. They knew a master of something would imply a sense of control, and at the very least an understanding. The mention of power and rules heavily implied the former, they knew. "So- Greed," They turned to the skeleton, squinting. "Wanted to control the caves, and now she's a skeleton. Why aren't the Masters like her?" Try as they might, they couldn't see any others amongst her, only a single pair of sockets glaring back at Spark.

They were about to ask if Dread too, had adopted Ember. But the need for clarification quickly faded. They thought of the two, thought of the traits that Spark carried, from Ember and by extension, them. Dragon and wolf, but they knew something was missing. Neither had feathers, or the fragile wings that sprouted from their front limbs.

The pause drew their gaze again, curiousity and anticipation in their eyes. The face of a creature not yet able to comprehend these things, these crimes and cruelties. They waited for Pride to continue. He did, and while the child didn't regret asking, the weight of his words hung heavy. Perhaps the masters did not deserve their power, if they were to use it for such cruelties. Shame clung to them as they realised that two had been lost, not just their late grandfather. "Who was the other one?"

Their grandfather concluded his explanation warmly, Spark's happy attitude returning with his kind words and gentle delivery. The tragedy was far from them now. But this question brought new challenges, because Spark didn't really know who they were, at all. They felt so different from most, even their father, if only physically. Smaller questions were easier to handle, and they pounced on the little opportunities quickly. "I, uhm, I've been to Leo! It was cool, and really hot. This big creature, he stood on two legs and had a cool-looking mask, I wanna make one too, he taught me and others how to use a forge! I still have the knife, but its at home." The torrent of words paused, as Spark recalled other events. There were few more of note, but they could remember one other. "Oh! And then I tried to find some cool stuff in one of the tunnels. There was a bunch of junk there, but I couldn't find anything useful. I did make a friend though, his name is Wicker. He said he's a horse, but he looked more like a dead thing. Do horses look dead?" A second pause as they sought an answer from Pride. Spark was usually quite shy, but the desire to learn more from the deer swallowed any anxiety quickly. They were family, and that allowed Spark to open up more than they normally would.

"I like... fire, but not when it burns me. I like helping dad in the forge, and I like making stuff." Some of their usual hesitance returned for their proposal, head lowering. "I want to learn about magic. Could you teach me?"

@Pride

Ahh--it seemed he'd have to offer a detail about Reseda after all. "Reseda--Greed--wanting only to control the caves would have been a... an abstract thing. She died because she took one of our friends in her teeth, with the intent to control us with that friend's life, or kill our friend in her jaws." He paused, unease settling in his gut, as he added, "I do not think any of us are powerful enough to kill the Masters, even if they do cause us direct harm... mostly we avoid them." He didn't want to explain that, yes, he hated them, after seeing what they'd done; his dislike and disgust had ratcheted higher and higher until it had become black fury, an incandescent rage at the injustices he'd seen. It didn't seem wise to tell Spark that Pride would probably, willingly, throw himself to his death to fight them, some day.

Moving on...

"The other was Nassir, a close friend. He was a great black cat, with a very gentle soul. He would listen to what others had to say, and support them--I don't know if he ever knew how good a friend he was. I hope that he did." Pride had never found it coming so naturally to him--that ability to simply listen, to empathize. Nassir had been a shoulder to lean on, and had been there those few times Pride had been genuinely ready to collapse. But that-... was again, perhaps not the best thing to discuss with Spark.

The rest--exploration, fun--that was easy. Pride listened to this attentively, nodding along just a little. The description made him wonder--The Collector-? and he certainly hoped not; the Collector was a mischief-maker at the best of times, sinister at the worst, and it made Pride wonder just what magics the knife might carry with it. He showed none of that concern, however, instead offering cheerful support: "That sounds like quite the adventure! Leo's very far--and quite different, isn't it, from Orion? Who was the one with the mask, do you know?" and he kept this question light. "Horses-?" Pride considered. He'd seen only one diseased-looking horse, certainly not dead and that had been in a vision of a vision. And all the other horses he had met--James immediately sprung to mind--had seemed to be sleek and healthy creatures.

"I... do not think horses should look dead, no?" he answered, head canting to one side. "At least, those I have met have had shining fur and strong muscles, bright eyes." Pride paused, thinking. "That said, a friend is a friend! They can be hard to find. He would be welcome to visit here, if you ever wish, as would any friend of yours, of course."

He listened as Spark spoke of creating--enjoying making things. The faintest smile touched his face--if only because smiling, as a stag, was difficult work. He was pleased, though. "Perhaps some time I can make you raw materials to work with, then-? I can form crystals, of any color, size and shape," Pride explained. He wasn't sure what sort of things Spark would like to make, but he'd seen parts of weapons and armors that might work well with gemstone--buckles and blades, all that sort of thing. "Creativity is a blessing. I think that making things--whether that is growing plants, or creating artwork or--weaponry, that is wonderful. To make something new and unique!" There was warmth in his words, praise. Creation, quite the opposite of so many who were destructive instead, within these caves--it was a rare and great thing to Pride.

"As for magic--of course. I, ahh-" his gaze shifted briefly to Ember. He wondered what his child had taught Spark; where was he to start-? "What magic do you already know? And do you know what it is you'd like to learn?" he asked kindly, with an idle glance at the banana peel.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

@Spark

”Oh.” That made sense, but it didn’t make them feel much better. Reseda seemed to be power hungry, violent, mean- but so were the masters, and none of them had been turned into a morbid decoration. Not that anyone deserved that, it was a bit too gruesome for. Spark’s tastes. They’d much rather throw all of them in a pit and forget about them, like a pebble or useless piece of scrap. If they couldn’t be nice, they could be mean where no one would have to see it.

”Is there really no way to beat them, or make them stop at least? They seem awful.” Fear was sinking in. Would they hurt their friends too? They didn’t have many too lose, and the fact that nobody might have enough power to stop them… It made them feel sick. Then again, they might’ve eaten too many bananas.

”Leo’s so cool! It’s a lot warmer. I like the lava.” They pondered a bit, face scrunching up as they struggled to recall more. ”The one with the mask… I think he’s called The Blacksmith? Or that might just be his job.”

”They shouldn’t?” Apparently, horses didn’t look like a withered corpse. Had Wicker lied? Spark didn’t think he would, but maybe they knew nothing at all. They weren’t enjoying learning.

Their eyes lit up at Pride’s offer. ”You can do that? That’s so cool! I don’t know how to work with gems very well, but I could try!” Their tail started a steady wag, excited by the opportunity (and the praise.) It would be a challenge, but the idea of a sparkling set of armour, or an enchanted necklace, or a helm encrusted with diamonds- Their ambition would drive them forward, though they’d have to lower their expectations some.

”Magic? I don’t think I can do something as cool as you, but-“ They reached for their inner fire, bracing for the burning pain if it failed like last time. Gosh, they hoped it wouldn’t.

Luckily, it didn’t. The flame flickered to life, Spark’s eyes glowing warmly. ”I can do this! I know it’s not much, but I’d love to learn more.” They ducked their head shyly.

@Pride

The first question pitched Pride back into memory: a memory of Astraea in the center of an arena, hooves stamping and ears pinned. "KEEP YOUR CHILDREN." His rage, or so Pride had assumed, as the Master appeared to give in--a little--to the gathered Gembounds' demands.

"I don't know," he answered, "but it doesn't do to talk about it. If they heard such things they might try to bring you harm; best not to mention it." And if we decide to rebel later, well, that can come as a nice surprise.

He moved on as quickly as he could, mind skimming the Blacksmith with some relief, Pride offering little more than a shrug and a "So far as I've seen," in regards to horses.

Then he was quiet, watching Spark as the child formed up the gleam of magic. Fire, Pride recognized, though that should have come as no surprise. In his experience, the parent who granted a stone life also seemed to give the resulting child their element. He dipped his head in warm approval, eyes half-squinting in a smile. "That's a fantastic start," he praised. "Fire is a strong magic. It can be dangerous, but it can be used to warm, or to destroy... It isn't my specialty," he went on. "Mine is magics of the mind, among other things but--I'm sure Ember can teach fire?"

He glanced up at the wolf-dragon, questioningly; Ember was lying some distance off, half his attention on the pair. Pride got a friendly nod and nodded back. If not, there is always Dread, he thought, though the dragon as a teacher was a... questionable thought.

"Gemstones, though, that I can try to teach you?"

He dipped his head down, pressing his nose to the rock in concentration. "Try to sense what I am doing, if you can. That comes with practice, but... here."

What he formed was, though he didn't know the name, raw rutilated quartz: white and shot through with random threads of pale gold-yellow. The shape was vaguely Spark: long and noodly, with strange, thin wings and curved horns. It wasn't perfect; the details weren't strong--it looked more like some form of tribal totem than a real sculpture. But he nudged this to Spark nonetheless.

"You--or as best I can make it. This magic could be used to make weapons, armor--decorations. Anything you like," he finished, kindly.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

@Spark

Though they were unsure if it was just the spell, warmth rose in their chest at Pride's praise. They had strong magic! That counted for something, surely. They watched with glowing eyes as their grandfather summoned his own, watching carefully at his request.

The feeling was vague, fuzzy. Spark knew they could feel magicka. It came in many forms, a buzz, a hiss, a crackle of electricity - differentiating them now was new and challenging. They got the sense that something was gathering, tendrils outreaching and contracting again like a ripple on water. The force was gentle, strained perhaps, concentrated on the point before the deer's nose. The pace of it was slow and patient, as something began to form at the spell's center. Though distracted. they caught sight of the slowly building gem, white and gold. Familiar?

The spell fell away, a final outward spread and prompt dispersal. They looked properly at the result, and gave a little happy gasp: It was them! It was Spark! Despite its crudeness, it moved forward to (gently) clasp the figure in their talons, moving to their haunches to bring it closer to their face. Their bottom end wiggled with glee, tail wagging every which way. They returned their delighted gaze to Pride. "Can I keep them?"

With the little statue in their palms, it felt as if they were holding a world of opportunity. With Spark's vision, Pride's magic and Ember's skill, who knows what they could make?

@Pride

He gave a little laugh, and a nod, silvered tines catching Orion's light and glinting. "Of course; it's for you."

He was pleased that the child liked this little gift--and he hoped the display had been useful, too. He settled a little, nodding to the stone. "You can make... better ones--ahh, clearer, more detailed--with practice. But magic doesn't always cooperate." Down to a bit of a lesson, then, it seemed. "It's fickle. Polaris, if Ember will take you there, is a good place to practice--not too close to the Spire. But it seems there's a lot of magic there, and it's... unstable. If you can learn to control your power there, it will come easily anywhere else." He spoke with the weight of experience behind his words. "But don't use anything too... volatile, until you have a good grasp of it. When I say it is unstable; it seems to lash out, there, quite a bit."

It might have all been correlation, not causation; chance-based flukes of casting and of failure, but Pride fully believed it nonetheless and gave it out as wisdom.

"Other magics can heal sickness, or make someone sick; can encase someone in ice, or change the very weather around us," and he nodded upward, toward the ceiling. A moment's concentration, and a light drizzle began to fall, splattering the rock around them with damp points.

Pride shifted, water slowly accumulating on his white fur. "If you choose to stick with fire--I have seen others breathe flame, or use it to close wounds, or warm the air around them." He flicked his tail, tucking his legs closer against the cooling air. "You're only limited by your imagination."

One lesson of many to come, naturally; and Pride settled in for the rest.

red deer img credit - dan seagrave

@Spark

exiting due to inactivity

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