ORIGIN

The shift of living oilstone from chrysalis to small moving object caught his half-observant attention. He was only travelling back and forth, but as always he kept an eye on any chrysalises that might be rooted in the tunnel or in Draco proper. That was, after all, part of his job.

He angled for it, and at once spotted the distant phosphorescent glow. An interesting choice. It was an indifferent thought; this creature had likely been an idle creation but had been offered to the Forge, and so Vargas headed over to collect it. He'd gotten a description, but the real thing was... something else. Bulbous, slippery-looking, every bit a Valkhound in appearance yet tagged with the 'wrong' magic for the average Chaos monster. That made it likely to be more tractable, at least, but something of an oddity here. "V-Chaos-Ten," he greeted it, striding over. "That is your name." He peered briefly to study the carpet of mushrooms it had sprouted. "Utilizing your magic already, I see. I am Master Vargas. I am an authority in these caves, and I operate others in a group called the Chaos Forge. Do you understand any of that?" he asked, tone amiable enough; he had no idea how much language this one might yet comprehend.

Vargas always kept an open mind, and a ready fist, for new Valkhound hatches. Some of them came out ready to kill anyone and anything they saw. Others were almost childlike. This one seemed intelligent enough, and he'd opened his mouth to respond when it began to pepper him with questions.

And more questions. And--more questions.

His jagged-toothed jaws closed, and he waited with the patience of an ancient for Chaos-Ten to finish. Then he began to answer, carefully juggling all of the questions in his mind lest he forget one. "Magic is a power inherent in you. You can use it to shape, create, and destroy. Yours," he went on, glancing down, "is the magic of fungus. Mushrooms, mold. It has many uses. We can train you with it. Authority," he continued, gamely pressing on to the next set of questions, "is rank and power. Leadership. There are others," came that confirmation. "You are correct. Well done!" It was praise for its keen intellect, its boldness in replying and most of all, its accurate assessment in drawing from context. Good, for one so young. "We serve Chaos in His nest. We create monsters, and train them, and send them to serve elsewhere. But I think you are meant to stay in this cave and aid here, not to go and fight on other worlds. We will teach you," he added, eyes ranging curiously over Ten's body. What had been the purpose of this one-? Its intended task? Vargas was unsure, if even it had one; maybe it'd been an idle whimsy, created out of boredom and little more.

Whatever the case, it had been left in his care and under his instruction, so he would do as he saw fit. And luckily for this generation, Vargas--in that regard, at the very least--was fairly easygoing: he welcomed his creatures to find their own, preferred niche.

The thump of the tail, preempting another barrage of queries, drew Vargas's eye and if he could've perked a brow, he would have. What a strange way to indicate emotion. Endearing, though, in a way. If he were the sort to become endeared.

"Authority is... the power that comes with rank and leadership. It is not a tangible power the way magic is," (in most cases, but... he'd leave that alone for now, lest it simply become confusing) "but leadership and rank are gained, yes. The success of any group depends on its teamwork and its leadership. A fool leader may ruin their followers! A good leader will bring out the best in even mediocre soldiers. So one must prove themselves worthy of leadership, by proving they are capable, intelligent, tactical, and so on." Would that be enough-? "I am a Master, and the leader of the Chaos Forge, but those are ranks that I have earned. I was Overseer, once," and some part of him still longed for that. 'Master' was an immense power but also responsibility; 'Overseer' had come with fear in the eyes of all those who heard the title, because rather than a leader and a creator, an Overseer was meant to lead... but also to destroy. Plus, it had involved far more freedom, and far less responsibility. "But yes. The Chaos Forge will teach and train you."

As for 'what is his,' Vargas puzzled over this. He misunderstood: he thought the question was 'his' in the possessive, that the child was asking what belonged to someone. And the rest of the sentence was simply baffling to him. If he'd understood he'd have gladly explained, but after a long moment of blank staring, he simply grunted. "What-? You will need to rephrase that question," he suggested, still puzzling over it. It clicked an instant later, and all six eyes blinked. "Ah! You mean the word 'his?' We are... all of us. You are you. I am a 'he' and all that is mine would be 'his.'" Maybe that would help. (Maybe not. This was a lot to explain in one attempt.)

"A world is a planet. A... an enormous ball of stone and earth, plants and trees and water and so on. There are many of them, yes. We are beneath the surface of a world," which, given his previous explanation, didn't quite line up but... it'd have to do, for now.