ORIGIN

They all had to learn to go to war.

Practice your skills. It supposed that was an easy enough task, but the landscape of Draco had made that task miserable, especially for its skill set that would need burrowing and plants. So it'd painstakingly slithered here, where there was at least greenery for it to work with.

It could only distantly hope there would be greenery at.. wherever they were being sent.

It couldn't help but salivate as its gemstone warmed under the use of magic. Now, if it could just direct it towards the pine cones it'd found...

By the time a sprout emerged from one of the seeds in the cone, it was drooling all over the forest floor. Despite that, the neurons in its brain started firing off on all cylinders; this magic thing was easy. The dopamine rush was glorious.

So pleased with its progress, it already wanted to try something new. So it reached within, really reached as it continued to drool over itself. Who had decided that under the tongue was a good spot for a gemstone? It warmed again as moisture dripped through scale-like teeth.

Then its stomach suddenly didn't feel good at all. The stomach made an awful noise as a warning before Creep was revisiting its lunch. At least retching up its stomach contents had made it feel better, but something looked wrong with the bile, and it made the sprout on the pine cone wither up.

It could only coil on the soil, looking bewildered and more than a little shell-shocked. That hadn't been a good one. Maybe it would stick to what it knows for a bit longer... Yes, no more new things. At least not until the nauseous feeling had passed.

Moving away from the bile that'd come up, it slithered through the undergrowth and settled under the shade of a pine-like tree. This spot was away from the acidic smell and the coolness of the shaded soil felt good on its upset belly.

Enjoying simply watching the lights as they shifted around the cave from his shaded spot was nice. Enough to distract from how awful its stomach had felt. It could even hear one of the streams from here. This would be a good spot for a nap.

But, it had work to do. With a huff, it uncoiled from itself.

Slithering through the grass, being so low to the ground, lent itself wonderfully to finding seeds. Not that it could identify what any of them were when it found them. It just knew that the round things were usually seeds.

It was some red flowers it had spotted it wanted to try next. Salivating as its tongue warmed, it concentrated as it watched the flower. It had a dark middle and curled leaves. It spotted something unfurling on one of these curled leaves, which was all the warning it got before the leaf flung open! Throwing all the seeds everywhere and at Creep's face.

One half-opened seed in particular hit its nose, but it couldn't find it in itself to be upset by this. It had just been a part of its magic. Cause and effect. He could use magic to make something do unexpected things. It was getting the hang of this. Or so it thought anyway.

It was at least learning something.

There had to be more than scattering seeds. It wasn't sure what war it was, but unless their enemies had seeds by the dozen in their pockets, this spell alone wouldn't be enough to harm anyone. It doubted that their enemies would stop and appreciate the flowers as a distraction either. War had meant business; it meant killing and being killed.

It idly wandered if those it'd met on its hatching would meet a cruel and short end. They were so much smaller than it was, creatures that could be crushed under stampedes. A pity. They were both sweet and fluffy. What of the others too? It'd caught the sight of others, bright, colourful gembound. Usually somewhat oozing or fluorescent, in a way that made it feel nauseous, but they would still be fighting this war together. It didn't make them any less obnoxiously loud and irritating, but that didn't mean they should die, should it?

It would certainly lessen its headaches if they did, but that didn't seem fair. Were there spells to mend its comrades? Perhaps. It'd be a shame to lose such fuzzy little creatures. Either way, it had to try something with more substance, more impact than just growing seeds. It didn't matter what it was, it just had to do it.

Once more, the warmth under its tongue made it salivate as the magic stirred, and then...

...Nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

It wrung its body tightly around itself, squeezing to funnel the frustration into itself. It had to be better than this.

If it couldn't help itself, how could it help its allies? It couldn't take on armies by itself, not in this state.

More! It had to do more! It was supposed to wage war in the Creator's name! It'd be humiliating to fall over at the first hurdle. It needed to do more!

It paused; something had happened. But, it wasn't sure what exactly had happened...

It did feel a little better, its stomach was making less upsetting noises. Huh. It unfurled itself to check its belly, as if that would give it answers, but its belly looked the same as it always had. Scaly and thorny. It did painfully twist a few times, making the serpent hiss through its teeth, before there was nothing.

No more pain, no more gurgling, just a lingering feeling of nausea. Off-putting, but perhaps it could keep down a meal now.

Could magic do that? Fix problems? So far, it'd been very good at causing them, but the idea that it could also fix problems was new and exciting. Promising, even. Perhaps after the war. Did they need people who could fix problems in a war?

It didn't know.

Perhaps it could at least peel its furry companions off the floor should they get trampled. That could be nice.

Helpful spells. Perhaps if it could focus on being helpful, the spells would come out the very same.

It wasn't until the sickly, oily magic seeped into the soil beneath it that it realised this spell wasn't helpful at all. Grass curled up and died, the seeds that it'd spent so much of its time starting the growth of withered and decayed before its eyes. The soil itself smelled rancid, and it could hear lesser gembound fleeing in all directions around it; anything to get away from that unnatural stain on the earth.

Its eyes widened as it slithered away from the spot. They'd kill it if they found out. It wasn't supposed to disrupt life outside of Draco; that much had been extremely clear. They'd mind their own business and keep out of others. Yet, the earth was still slick with the oily substance that seeped further and further into the soil.

It could only swear under its breath as it tried to wipe the magic away, using the length of its body to swipe at the ichor, but that did little more than smear it across the earth it was already soaking into. Trying to fix it was only making it worse. And, it was sticking to its belly as it did so. Tacky and foul, evidence of the mistake it had made.

There was a stream nearby, but wouldn't that make it worse? Spread it further? It was either wash it away or face questions when it returned. With a louder string of swearing, it slithered towards the stream in a selfish move. Dunking its body into the waters to wash away the smears of ichor on its belly.

Eyes closed, it slithered back out of the water. It had to leave. It couldn't be caught with the evidence of its failure.

It picked up surprising speed for a creature with no legs, as it slithered back towards Tunnel G.

No more magic. No more spells. Not for today.