ORIGIN

He felt the agony lacing every movement, and at once knew that this was catastrophic. This wasn't a minor burn, something he could simply shrug away. He could already feel the jasper at his chest threatening to overtake him, and he fought to call upon his magic again, mentally cursing it for having fucked him up this far. Fix it! was his half-desperate, maddened urge.

He was lucky the water was so ubiquitous, here. Had it not been, he'd likely not have only chrysalized, but died. As it was, he surfaced a moment later, gasping, burning pain roaring through his flesh--but his magic, however weakly, was threading along the wounds. I suppose it's my fault for wanting to be on fire, he thought.

And for the moment, he'd entirely forgotten Nidhogg, his mind still shocked by the injury and pain. He simply gasped for breath, struggling to stay afloat and alive, letting his magic barely keep his stone at bay. His mutated gills let him breathe beneath the water, but given the heat of it as it cooled him, that was almost a bad thing, now--and the light that flared and flashed over his hide in hues of deadly red and orange showed well enough that he was in great distress.

Another growling roar of pain escaped him as he felt the heavy, writhing weight suddenly land full atop his back. He submerged with a choking gasp, gills churning into action even as he felt the prick of dozens of little fangs press powerfully into the back of his head.

Instinct lashed out--the agony of feet, claws, weight atop his burned flesh left no room for thought. For a moment there was only confusion, motion, a splashing and streams of bubbles in the darkness. Then he felt flesh between his teeth and seized. He didn't know what he'd gotten hold of--a leg, a torso, a tail--but he turned, submerging, powerful tail sending him deeper with swift thrusts. He didn't know how much fight he had left in him, but that instinct told him drown it and so he did, forgetting for the moment that he was in only a spar. Undoubtedly, his mind would quickly clear, but for now the lash of jaws and submerging happened so quickly that he had no time to think of what he'd done.

His mind came back to him enough to realize what was happening. A spar. He was too hurt to continue. Even recovery would be difficult. "Enough!" he gurgled, surfacing with a gasp, gills flaring. He turned with surprising agility, keeping jaws toward the creature, who he could barely see in this darkness even with his keen sight. Did the burns harm my eyes-? "You win, Nidhogg!" he gasped. It was not just appeasement, though he certainly hoped it would appease the serpent--and Nidhogg hadn't exactly won. But maybe he'd feel better not hearing "I just beat the shit out of myself with my own magic," instead.

The repeated pops of Dragon's jaws snapping shut in the hybrid's direction would, he hoped, be enough of a backup to his words to end this.

Agony.

He crawled onto shore, and gone were any thoughts of keeping Nidhogg appeased--his very life was at stake, so injured was he. He gaped his jaws, hissing in guttural, deep warning, and then a groan of pain erupted at its tail end. "It was not... deliberate," he answered, voice thick with pain.

But that wasn't quite true, was it-? "I meant to... create a little flame, to force you off. I did not know if you'd fought against flame, before, and it would be good practice..." He trailed off. He'd been about to explain, as best he could past the pain, that fire was how he fought, that it was his element--but his magic was sparking up.

The magic of the Children. The magic of the swamp, of Cetus... of rot.

All at once, the wounded, seared flesh was necrotizing. Rotting. A scream escaped the alligator, building slow from a growl and erupting into a full-throated, agonized roar of pure, animalistic pain, lung-deep. To Nidhogg's eyes, it would seem that he was simply rotting away, his body's wounds blackening and withering, dropping off, sloughing to expose raw, red flesh beneath... and yet even as it did, new flesh was rapidly growing, swelling, thickening to take its place.

It only added to the patchwork of scarred flesh across the flame alligator's hide--and even so, it did not mend all wounds. To add insult to severe injury, much of the minor burns were left behind, blackened and still smoking.

The worst of it... had passed. It still ached. The adrenaline lingered, the echoes of agony still burning at him.

He lay quiet for a moment, simply catching his breath, before looking wearily to Nidhogg. "Healing," he answered wearily. "My magic is not cooperating with me today." The healing had, but the rest-?

Dragon did not usually set himself on fire.

He closed his eyes. "Don't lose your stone," he murmured, though why he even cared, he didn't know. It seemed so distant and unimportant, now.

In fact-... "Nidhogg. I need to rest." A pause, because the obvious was on his mind: would the hybrid try to harm him further, or run away, the moment he was unconscious? Not that it would matter--hell, he could, even should, sleep underwater. "I'll do that in the water," he decided, because yes, that seemed smart, and would help to soothe the burns. "But can you keep an eye out for danger? Do not go too far; it is easy to get lost here and we still have much to teach you. Can you keep watch?" His voice was pained, his words straight to the point.

Later--much later, after a long sleep--he'd tackle the rest of his plan. Maybe hunt with Nidhogg off and on, spar and train... take him to meet Aquarian. He might like that. Or might not--Dragon didn't know, for sure. But so far, though the spawn was half-wild, Dragon thought he could at least work with this.

"Or you can sleep, but I cannot watch over you for now. When I am awake again, we can hunt and train more. I will show you the... map, if you have never seen a map. And the offering pile, and we can meet Aquarian, if you like." Aquarian--the proof that Dragon had once been as Nidhogg was now. The alligator had hatched and immediately attacked the three-hundred-foot long sea serpent.

"This swamp can be difficult. I live here with my family--with the Children of Rot. Some of them are your cousins, your uncles--do you understand?--as I am your grandfather. And we survive by taking care of one another. Can I trust you to look after us, and we will look after you, until it is time for you to go?" he asked, exhausted.

He really, really hoped the creature answered 'yes.'

And he really, really hoped he'd mean it.