ORIGIN

The winter is behind it now. Drifting along, following the pulsing feeling of something else. Something not Order, but not Disorder. Curiousity pulls it along, pulls it away from Heaven. But was it not created to mingle among those that dwelled below? Hadn't it been given wings so that it might grant them to others?

It wanted to learn. It wanted to speak. It had met the other Angels, of course, but where were the others? Those that had no wings of white? Those whose voices did not whisper in the heavens?

The cave it emerged in was blue. So unlike its place of birth, all white, white and crystal clear, white and perfect and oh so beautiful. But this...was this not also beautiful? Glowing crystals marked the walls, lights gleamed from the ceiling, and in the middle...ah, the middle! That great Spire of pulsing magic that illuminated the world around it. How beautiful it seemed, but also how...wrong. This whole cave, wrong, so wrong. It feared because in its mind, She feared. She urged it to leave, to not linger too long, but curiosity was strong. Its will steadfast. How could something as beautiful be evil?

It did not approach, however, simply lingering just within the cave, still except for occasional draft causing its silks to flutter, always together, always in sync. It observed all, everything, noted every imperfection it could see, all the asymmetry and the hint of something else that threatened this place. It noted that despite it all, there was still beauty. Still, it could be perfect. All could be perfect.

It would be difficult for Doru to discern anything from the unnatural stillness of the Vindicator as it observed the cavern before it. No body language or expression, not even eyes it could read in all their complexities. Only perfect stillness, like a marble statue gently floating above the stone floor. Yet, still, there was an aura of curiosity. Of innocent, polite questioning. And although its 'head' did not turn down to look at the child, it still saw him and its attention turned towards the child at its feet.

"Hello," it echoed, no mouth in sight to speak its two voices, no movement to show that it had been the one to speak at all, yet it did speak. "Doru. Doe. Rue. Thou art speaking to Zero One Four Vindicator." A gentle sound reverberated from its body, almost like a soft chuckle, but it came from a being who had never heard laughter and did not know its purpose. "It can speak," it replied with a faint amusement in its voice.

The arm silks fluttered, briefly blocking the view of Doru, so it at last slowly turned its body so that its front was facing the stranger. "Odd?" It felt like it should be insulted by this, but as it continued to observe Doru, it realized exactly how...how imperfect he was. While his figure was generally symmetrical, those slashing lines across his body, similar to its own faint markings, were random and disorderly, scratching an unpleasant part of the drone's mind. Ah, but it did not feel the need to needlessly destroy or change this creature so suddenly. No, perhaps it simply did not see. It did not understand. One from a world of imperfection would not understand the holiness of the Vindicator's purity.

"The Vindicator doest not think itself odd. Thee, however, art a strange one." One arm raised, the pointed tip spreading into four spindly fingers, pointing as it spoke. "Soft flesh with strange markings. And what is yond upon thy head? Liketh to light, but snow also." Its fingers lowered and a strange hum reverberated from its midsection. "Odd. Not bad."

The other one speaking was further pulling The Vindicator's interest. A good conversation was not something it had yet to experience and thinking too hard about things was something it hadn't been asked of yet. Really, it had been given little direction besides spreading Order. Creating good. Bringing Her to the caves so that She may grant them wings of their own. But why...Vindicator?

Flashes of memory through the Hivemind answered the question for it. Images of snarling monsters tearing the family apart, of hate and mistrust. Mother's children hiding in the shadows, afraid and alone. The Hive coming together and staying as one because there was no other option. It was quiet as it thought of the wording to Doru's question, but at last the twin voices spoke. "Thee asketh of me a complicated question. The Vindicator is new and yet has understanding. Vindicator it is, and it believe it is of Order. Doth thee know of it?"

It was with an unshakeable boldness that it uttered the name of its purpose, despite Mother's warning. It was not afraid, not of Doru, who had shown no aggression and of whom it would show no aggression in kind. If they wished to reconcile, live freely, spread Order as a force of good, then they could not be afraid.

There came another sound of soft chuckling. "Thee is right, it thinks. We has't not seen the likes of each other before. It knoweth only the family, white and perfect, liketh to unbroken snow. But thee is different. Tell the Vindicator of Doru's parents - art they as strange as thee?" It was not with a tone of domination of command that it asked, but rather a genuine curiosity.

It hummed again. "Hair..." Curious for its purpose and design, it sent the inner magic of its heaven into the crown of its head and from just beneath the golden halo came a growing glass that spread down the sides of the head-shape in an imitation of what Doru's hair looked like (but symmetrical, of course). It reached up with its arm and spindly fingers opened again to touch the strange growth. Of course, it would not have the strange consistency as the soft fur on Doru, which of course altered its ability to judge the value. "It asks what the point is of hair? And...antlers? Does it sense? Or simply crown the head?" Eager to learn, eager to understand, its focus was on Doru now, although it would be quite hard to tell from its complete lack of body expression.

Doru spoke much, then, and the Vindicator was eager to listen. It could feel the warmth of Mother close by as she listened as well and images moved through its mind, of the creatures Doru described. A dragon - it saw the image of a beast of black and red roaring and spouting flames into a battle upon a beach. But this one not a flier, but a water-borne beast? It thought of Siren and Lamia, swimming gracefully through the water. Perhaps a dragon but like them.

A deer, it saw a brown creature on four legs, antlers like Doru, with gleaming eyes and a ruby upon its brow. The carniverous fish it pictured as well, with glowing yellow spots and scales that reminded it of the creature in front of it. A lion, a golden cat-beast with a luxurious mane, roaring ferociously. But the word 'vampire' brought up no such image. Perhaps this Erasmus was unique, then, or so few that the Hive had not yet come across them. It tried to construct a rudimentary image of what it might look like.

As Doru spoke, the Vindicator's arms came together, spindly fingers extending from each end. From the tips of each finger, a strange material began to synthesize. White and a little glassy, growing thicker with each passing second as its dexterously began to weave it around itself, taking aspects of each being that he described, and adding it on. The end result was...bad, to put it lightly. It didn't really look like much at all. If it looked closely, it could probably tell that those bits were wings, that point could be an antler and...were those two heads?

At the end, it held up the "sculpture", at last fully putting its attention towards it. "Hm...strange indeed," as if the poorly made art piece had explained everything. It had hardened now and looked even stranger, so it allowed it to drop from its grasp, clattering against the stone floor.

"Thou hast much family! For this, the Vindicator is glad. Family is good, pure. Keep them close - they art warmth and light and goodness. The Vindicator hast family also." It didn't seem to be the same as Doru's, as it thought about it. They were all the children of Mother, but they themselves had no children themselves. It wondered if it was possible for that to happen, in the future.

The fingers retraced back, hands closing until it seemed there was only pointed nubs once again on the end of each of the angel's arms, returning back to its odd neutral and statue-like pose. It bowed forward, then, sensory ring coming closer to Doru's face so it could look close at its eyes. Sensitive? "Ah, that is unfortunate. The Vindicator offers sympathy." And it was genuine, if perhaps a little insensitive. How this poor beast had fallen out of favor of perfection. It could not imagine a world in which its senses felt sensitive or fragile. But perhaps it could be compared to its physical fragility. Although it had not yet experienced that fragility first hand.

It straightened back up, still with that strange chitin-hair present on the sides of its head, of which it was quite aware. "Aesthetic purpose is not invalid. The Vindicator hast many aspects that seemeth to be aesthetic in nature. Antlers art quite lovely."

It thought for a moment about the question of itself and how it could possibly explain to Doru what it was like without having to force the experience upon them. It did not think it the time to offer the link itself - perhaps in the future, but for now, this was a pleasantry between new acquaintances. "Order is...connection. It is link between the minds. All of Order feeleth each other, we art close at all times. Listening, feeling. Experiencing and speaking to each other. They art here now, close to the Vindicator, but far away. It is love, it is unity. We art one being, even with bodies separate. And through us all, is She. Liketh to many hands guiding our steps, but letting us walketh as we will. Through Her we art family. Blood or body of Her, symmetrical in form as the mission of Order decrees, mind linked by the Hive's grace. We fight Chaos only - we art no threat to the innocent. No, Doru," it at last responded to his earlier question. "This one intends no harm to thou, if thee doest not intend himself to harm."

It paused, then, a small ripple running through the silks of its arms. "The Vindicator finds itself wondering - why doest thee's parents believe Order to be a threat? It doest not understand."

The Vindicator was quiet for a moment, reaching back into its link and requesting the necessary information. Battle, chaos, fear. And the siblings supplied, images of roaring flame and dark hulking beasts. Visions of shapes it recognized - Juggernaut, Alcina, and other white-bodied drones beside Praetors, and those it did not. Fighting. Blood across the ground. Pain. Death.

It was saddened so deeply, hurt so intensely. For its family, yes, that had suffered the battle firsthand, but also for those of not-Chaos and not-Order, who had been hurt by their war. "They showeth the Vindicator this battle. Thy family be right to fear, if it knoweth only the war. A terrible occurrence." Its head bowed the slightest, in the sympathy it offered. "The family knoweth their place in these caves. It is the Vindicator's purpose to retie bonds that Chaos has broken. It will not preach to thee longer then it needs, but Order hast no evil within. It is simple - Order. Unity. Together as one, for the sake of the whole. There is not need to fear." It felt an odd sense of longing, verging on a desperate need, to bring Doru into their family as well. It would be so easy, of course - memories of past successful infection through the fungus blinked through its mind, but then it saw the fire in the swamp. The hatred and pain caused by force. No, that was not its purpose. They could not sow more dissent. And it did not want to make Doru unhappy.

"The Vindicator wishes it could understand thine need for challenge, but it can offer respect at its very least. There art differences in all. And not all difference is chaos." It did not elaborate further, seeing no need to think upon the words. Why it would desire challenge of the mind when there could be ease and safety was beyond its understanding, but that was a gap of understanding it was learning to bridge.

Asking, then, of chaos, led the Vindicator to pause once again. It reached back in the link for answers, as it had never seen Chaos itself, and it was given response. Beasts of black and purple and acid green. Fire and lightning, roaring monsters and violent war without purpose. Things that shook it to its core and gave it anger and fear. Fear for Order and fear for Doru and all the other innocent.

It let out a strange sound, like a distressed, angry wail, but quiet. A whisper. And then it spoke, ideas distressingly fragmented. "Destruction without purpose. Unwarranted hatred and violence. Those that wisheth for war when there is peace. The strong survive, the weak die. Mercy for none. No order, no structure. All for one. No room for family. There is no love when there is naught but chaos."