From the gauntlet of stone, it begins to crack. The stone much larger than it's siblings tears away to reveal... A big thing. Not catlike, completely differently shaped from its siblings, and life-giver. A herbivorous shape, sprouting small armored hide.
It stands up slowly, struggling due to the simple weight of itself even as a child. Senses reaching for anything, it squints. Something isn't right.
Distantly there's sound coming to it's four ears, somewhere ahead - or is it behind? Citadel cannot tell.
Suddenly, everyone was introducing themselves with an additional word... A name, a part of faer mind supplied. Did fae have a name?
Carnevale... the sweet voice in faer mind spoke again. No, not just spoke. The voice answered, fae realized!
"Am Carnevale!" fae told faer family.
But then... faer brother was running away. Fae didn't like that, not at all. Carnevale's brother shouldn't be afraid of faer. Unconsciously, their magic reached towards their brother.
Faer magic whispered to Kazimir that Carnevale was
safe, would never hurt brother... And more than that, he should
like fae, because fae would be the best sibling.
Unlike faer spoken speech, even with a forked tongue, the whispers of faer magic had a serpentine hiss to it, not simply blending in with thoughts. One day, when more powerful, fae might learn to conceal this trace of faerself in faer magic.
But today was simply the day of hatching.
@Ultraviolet
ultraviolet watched as kazimir's flashing slowed and steadied, and gave a quiet, subtle nod. it was hard at first-- he would have to learn how to control the impulses that created his biolumiescence. it was something special that marked the boy as his, and there was a pride he felt to being able to help him even so young.
the boy introduced himself: kazimir. a good name, one that rolled off the tongue and yet easily murmured, roared, cried. it was a name that could become a legend. a name fit for an heir. uvie was obviously biased.
then, like a fly had bitten him in the arse, the young cub bolted from elayne and her child (his... adopted, child) and scrambled for the safety that he offered in silence. there was a chuff from his throat in surprise, a half-laugh, but it was an affectionate sort of sound.
"calm," he whispered. "did you see something?" it was a logical guess: he was plagued with visions himself. it only made sense that his own child would bear similar marks of chaos.
ultraviolet opened his mind then to the kazimir, though he shielded the boy from the visions the Altar and his dreams had given him. his thoughts whispered in a free connection between the two: You are of Chaos, Kazimir. Like me. a statement of fact, laced with pride.
his eyes moved from his son's face to the Altar of Oilstone before them and the black abyss beyond. for now, he did not let kazimir peer too closely. The things we see are not always true, at least not in this world. There are other worlds where they are true, but they cannot harm you. This is our magic, and it is powerful, exceedingly so... But it comes with a cost. Do not worry, it is something you will learn. It is similar to needing to breathe, and needing to eat...
... ah. A flicker of his failures: he had wanted to catch them something to eat, and he had failed. ... Are you hungry, Kazimir?
Another crack. Elayne's eyes flickered toward the cracking stone, and of her third child. She could not linger long, because the second child spoke: Kazimir. "Hello, Kazimir," Elayne repeated, smile tracing her lips. "Hello, Carnevale." Both names rolled off the tongue so nicely. She was about to see if they could introduce themselves to the third child, but then Kazimir broke away, and puzzled, she watched him run over to Ultraviolet. Perhaps this was his doing.
No matter. He would not do anything she could not undo if needed.
She smiled to Carnevale instead, and nodded toward the third child, who stood still and uncertain and-- well, frankly, larger than Ultraviolet already. A towering creature, one that... perhaps would rival her. This one... This one would be strong, and she did not care that it did not look like her.
It still had her regal magic within it, after all.
"Shall we go say hello to your third sibling?" She suggested to Carnevale. "I have a gift for each of you, afterward." A dangle of a carrot, a prize for good behavior. She was so looking forward to seeing each of them thrive with her guidance.
Elayne stepped toward the massive, ivory, hulk of a creature. "Welcome, my child," she rumbled a deep-throated snarl, insistent on an answer and demanding not to be disappointed: "It seems your siblings have names of their own... Do you have a name, as well?"
Something about her words came out... wrong. There was a twinge, and with a force that moved as though another hand was guiding her, she pulled at fate with the platinum chain wrapped around her forelimb.
She couldn't have her children getting the wrong impression of her, after all.
The words-- had she said them wrong? No, certainly not. Her expression was soft, her deep voice soothing, and if anything had been off about her, anything had been wrong, well... that was merely a bad dream. The reality, the truth, was that she was nothing but the safe haven that a mother could be...
Elayne stepped toward the massive, ivory, hulk of a creature. "Welcome, my child," she greeted with that same warmth she had offered to the other two, perhaps now perfected in tone now that this was her third time meeting one of her children. "It seems your siblings have names of their own... Do you have a name, as well?"
@Citadel
and tag for
@Oilstone T-One @Sair
There are notes of some words around it, Citadel cannot pinpoint the exact location. Its four ears wiggle around in unison, until something speaks in front of it. There's multiple things here - how many? Citadel cannot tell. It is a child in a giant's body - it is a giant among the tiny. It is absolutely useless within its own senses.
"welc- m- ch-ld" The voice comes in and out, but Citadel somewhat understands.
This is
parent.
A mother. No, no.
My mother
Citadel feels
safe, like something magically commanded it to be that way. It was not particularly panicked before, but now properly relaxed within the face of its own sudden insecurities.
"I - se-s - sib-gs - ha-ve - n-mes -th- ow- d- na-me - as- w-ll"
This is its mother - so she must be speaking about... Siblings, yes. One of those words. Those must be the other voices it heard as it awoke. And... Name. It must say its name.
"I-" Citadel is calm, but it nearly startles at the sound of its own voice. A child's body with a voice made of something... Distorted. Or is that just it's own senses?
Everything feels a bit foggy, like it isn't really there.
"Citadel... Is me." It finally comes out, a voice fitting for the body, but ill-fitting for a child. It's development completely different from the other two.
The white beast gazes around for the others - tries to - everything comes up blurry except for the dark form of its mother. Up close, Citadel can
see her. A strong creature - catlike and something else... Citadel does not look like her. It's somehow not scary, she's still family, this is still your family. Are the others feline too? That's okay.
@Elayne [Tagging you but anyone can come in before me!]
The third child: a towering giant, larger than the other children and Ultraviolet by a significant margin, replied in a stop-start voice. Citadel. The name of a grand thing: a center landmark, towering and protective. It was a perfect name for the child, and she nodded approvingly.
Citadel however seemed to strain to hear, processing the words slower than the others had. Was it less mentally developed? But its eyes also seemed to blink blearily, and she raised a tendril to gesture at the others behind her. She waited and watched, and found herself a conclusion.
This child had weaker eyes and ears than the rest of the family. A weakness, perhaps, or a boon. Ultraviolet had always been particularly adverse to bright lights-- and she did not expect Citadel to suffer the same light-blindness. Instead, a more... general blindness. Though it seemed able to see her up close, it struggled to look beyond at the details.
"Welcome, Citadel! A powerful name for a powerful soul." Decisively, she raised her voice to a louder rumble, rather than the softer cooing she had been using before. "We are blessed to call you family, Citadel... Carneval, Kazimir," she glanced back at the other children once more, a smile upon her lips, "come, come! Your sibling wants to meet you properly!"
The names were repeated, declared clearly, emphasizing the importance of the self, of their selfs. Her children needed that foundation... That independence, and confidence, to make choices and decisions and be rewarded with affirmation for them.
It was the little things, wasn't it?
@Kazimir :3c