Ember had mentioned Pride now and again to Spark. But now, as he led the kid toward the Throne, he repeated himself just a little.
It wasn't that Pride used the throne. Ember wasn't actually sure why the white stag lived there, yet always left it empty. He'd never thought to ask, though now he found himself curious.
But first things first.
Pride glanced up with some surprise.
The child-?
He had his own chrysalis growing here--one a rich and pretty brown, striped and banded with darker and lighter hues. But this one had hatched first and, he saw, had grown already. Or was going to get fairly large, perhaps. He approached with a politely attentive demeanor, ears forward, eyes trained on the visitor. On his grandson! They had an odd set of wings--he didn't quite recognize what sort of creature those might be from--and he wondered if the child could fly. Otherwise they were like a sleek, almost mustelid sort of mirror of Ember--a little less spiky, perhaps.
They reminded him of the Seven's absent King.
He wondered, for a moment, what they'd be like.
As requested! Ember will be in the background unless I feel I need to actually post him-
@Spark
Spark followed Ember like a faithful student, listening as if each word held a new lesson. They had only entered their second cycle recently, and they felt that their development had been more shallow than they had wanted. Their frame had lengthened and their fluff flattened, and they still hadn’t quite learned the landscape of Orion, hadn’t explored the caves they knew were outside. They listened to Ember as if he was their teacher, and they had fallen behind on their studies.
‘Better than I am at magic. Better than anyone I know.’ Spark’s mind shot back to their last attempt at calling forth their internal fire. The failure still stung a bit, the tensing of extremities the only indication of that. Would he teach them? They hadn’t tried to cast another spell since, their chest ached in fearful anticipation every time they thought about it.
They caught sight of his silhouette further ahead, pale like like them, horned like them. At their fathers suggestion they trotted forward, doing their own once over of their adopted grandfather. Even if he held no relation to either of them, they appeared so similar compared to the others of the cave that it wouldn’t have mattered. He already looked like family. “Hello, I’m Spark,” they returned politely. “You’re my grandfather?” Not so much question what he was, that was clear, but what role he played, what the title meant to him. It seemed to hold some significance in Spark’s head, but that significance would need to be clarified before it could be acknowledged.
@Pride
The question jolted him a little; he'd been about to say that he was Ember's father but it wasn't entirely accurate. He had to quickly rephrase in his mind; it wasn't that he didn't consider Ember his child, but rather, that he wanted to be as honest as possible in general and especially with family.
He was trying to be as open and friendly as he could be; and as neutral. He didn't want to pressure the child, who he'd only just met, and he didn't want to assume anything, like what activities they might want to do, or the like. So he made generic offers, and waited for Spark to lead.
@Spark
Spark simply looked back at the deer, apparently satisfied with his response, though the hybrid wasn't sure what the relevance of the true relation of the two was. They were uncertain what difference it made, if Ember had come from Pride's stone or not. Would that've changed the relationship, or the relationship Spark had with their father?
They nodded, accepting the offer. "Food would be nice." They were unsure of the word he used though, their vocabulary wasn't the most developed at this stage, but to summon food seemed to alude to a different action, different from foraging or hunting or catching food. Maybe they were looking too far into it.
Maybe neutrality would be the wrong way to go about this interaction, Spark wasn't naturally inclined to a leading role. Still, they'd try to take initiative if it was what was required of them. "Do you have parents?" How far did the tree go back, they wondered.
@Pride
Pride gave a little nod, leaning down, nose nearly touching the rock before his hooves. The bright yellow banana that appeared was small, stunted, but he nudged it forward nonetheless.
As for parents--he started to answer in the negative, but then remembered they were discussing adoptive as well, and abruptly remembered Reseda. 'Greed.' He fought to dismiss it, the faintest grimace crossing his features before he shook his antlered head.
He blinked, realizing that maybe his vocabulary was a tad complex--just how old was Spark?
@Spark
Spark gaped at the strange yellow plant, having manifested out of nowhere, as if called forth by Pride’s very will. Yes, the banana was stunted, small, but the hybrid had never seen anything like it, and thus it was enough to enthrall them. Was this the kind of magic their grandfather contained, something as incredible as this?
Wordlessly they picked up the object, not wanting to betray their excitement, even though it was evident in the way they rotated it every which way in their claws, and in the way their eyes widened and sparkled with delight. Finding the meeting point of the skin, they deftly peeled the outer layer back, revealing the soft flesh, and taking a small, testing bite when the end of it had been fully exposed. The process had come so naturally, perhaps this had been destiny, as if it wasn’t the banana hadn’t been created for them, but they had been created to eat this banana.
Mildly distracted by this experience, Pride was correct to assume that his vocabulary might be too alien. Spark had no clue what it meant to ‘spawn’, or what it would mean to do so from a wall. Other than that however, there had been only one other word they had failed to understand. “Can I get the biography version?” They took another bite from the banana. “Also, what’s a biography?”
@Pride
Pride settled himself on the stone, knees folding beneath his chest, his haunches out to one side. He looked content--briefly chewing cud, ears swept forward, half-lidded eyes watching Spark peacefully. At their question, though, he laughed--brief but hearty, genuinely amused.
The white stag had--in cycles past--spent many hours telling his own children stories, embellishing them, or making them up wholecloth from fantasy. Mercurius had done the same. Many tales of fields of purple grass, or floating dragons made of light, or talking gemstones, had made their way from his lips to the ears of young spawn--so he did his best to at least make his 'biography' interesting.
That meant not only an engaging tone of voice and simplified details, but a little magic pushed into the air: shimmering imagery joining his words for Spark to see.
This one was of he and the lizard facing off, and he embellished just a little, smiling at the air: sparks of color flew and danced around the two as they fought, flashy rainbows of exploding magic that they hadn't actually really used.
The image turned to a little, bright-eyed green-hued weasel, their gemstone a little gold-hued crown upon their head. Even the image was tiny, barely a few inches long.
He paused, and the images began to cycle more quickly. It was taking effort to keep the magic going, and anyway, he had spoken too long, he felt, already. He didn't want to bore the poor child.
There was an image of war: Pride, with the green weasel atop his head, charging into battle with a great black cat and a brown one, a tangle of bodies, blood and magic (none of it very clear; his magic in the here and now wasn't cooperating for such a detailed scene) briefly visible in a flash of violence. Another battle, a new group of strangers alongside Pride in a dark tunnel, fighting a massive pitch-black beast with glowing yellow eyes. Another hulking black hound, red-eyed and half-hidden in the mists of a dark swamp. Another, a fight of a dozen Gembound--snarling and clawing and sparking magic--against another group, again in the black of the swamp. An army rushing out into the bitter snow of Ursa, their enemy unseen, Pride among them. These then faded, and the white stag paused.
Now there was an image of a white lion, his moonstone horns swept back and gleaming.
He shook himself, at last, and offered Spark an apologetic smile. His magic was fading--despite his wishes; he had so much more that he could show but he had spoken too much already. Granted, much of it had been show, and not tell, but he knew he had likely stretched the child's attention span to its limits, if not beyond.
As if in apology, he then nodded to Spark's banana peel.
@Spark
They'd nod, wanting to know as much about the deer as possible. What secrets did he hide? Spark sat eagerly with their banana, ready to listen. But the magic was unexpected, they gasped when light and colour shimmered before them. The glitches and flashing of the images flew right past their head, it was like taking a kid to see a movie for the first time. Soon their thoughts shifted from a million questions of the machinations of the spell, if they could learn to replicate it somehow, to the feelings of someone completely invested in the story before them, even though they wouldn't be able to understand all of it.
They pondered the image of Pride's birth, wondering if they could've done the same. The memories of it were almost completely lost to them, just a feeling of calm and warmth and cold, then warmth again. It'd been the first time they'd felt the warmth of their magic, that they knew. They could never forget the feeling. They did feel a spike of jealousy now, wishing they had blasted forth from moonstone, casting it glittering shards as this image did.
Their eyes widened as Pride showed the lizard, put forth the concept of dominating the caves. Spark didn't even though how much of the caves there was, and controlling them all seemed such a hassle. Why anyone would do such a thing was beyond them. The hyena looked intimidating, but they knew that didn't always mean bad, or crazy. Wicker had looked twice as scary, and he'd been so nice!
"Woahh." They leaned forward, closer to the illusion, and they almost felt like they were there. Magic seemed to contain infinite possibility, their every interaction with it further fascinating them. They must learn more, so that maybe they'd have a chance of recreating these feats. They snickered at the thought of Pride hunting for another, of him trying to use his blunt set of teeth, made for cutting throught plant life rather than skin and meat. They couldn't laugh too hard though, having little experience themselves.
Spark giggled again, now at the tiny green speck. "They're so small! And long." They added thoughtfully after, their own long tail moving side to side slowly, in a fascinated wag. The humour died quick, at the telling of Greed's death. Is that what would happen, if someone sought to control the caves? They looked to the skeleton, the grim warning it was. Well, they knew what would happen if they decided to follow in her footsteps at least. Maybe this was a bit too macabre to tell a child. The fighting and the violence made their ears tilt back, the only indicator of its effect on them.
Try to do the right thing. They would, they'd try, whatever that meant. So long as they wouldn't end up like Greed, who was now nothing more than an ornament.
It was at this point that their attention lapsed, as the final images flashed forth. They rediscovered the banana they'd been holding, having been too enraptured in this biography to actually take another bite. They did so now, stuffing the small stunted thing in their mouth. Questions, questions. "Who's the other, mean looking deer near the end? Are they one of your children? Who's the big dragon, the black one?" Queries spilled forth like a tap left on and unattended. They paused the onslaught briefly. "Who's the one that looks like dad?"
They barely took time to consider Pride's offer for more bananas. "Yes please."
@Pride
He gave a little grin at the mention of Envy's teensiness, but did not interrupt himself for it. And when it was all done, he listened politely, attentively, a faint smile still curling his lips. It looked strange, on a deer, but Pride was content here.
His snout pushed gently against the floor again, magic shimmering up in an attempt to form a new banana for Spark. It formed whole from thin air, shining, and then plopped to the ground; he nudged it toward Spark with a friendly backward flick of his ears.
Hesitated.
It was one thing to tell of Reseda's bones. Even that was perhaps too grim, as were mentions of war and death, but... This? This was a story of cruelty. He took a breath, and tried to frame it in a way that wouldn't traumatize poor Spark. He noticed Ember staring at him from a few yards off--steadily, trusting, but there was a warning to his gaze and Pride gave him a little nod before looking to the child.
Granted, the child was indeed just a child, and it would be a long way yet until, perhaps, they knew fully who they were, but--who was Spark, really?
@Spark