ORIGIN

Khloros watched the small creature regain itself--its courage, apparently, and its voice.

It is very young, I think. Perhaps that is why it is so small..?

"There is water in one tunnel, where you can drink. For mice-... They come to many places, but are more often in the green. There are places with leaves, but now it is dark and I do not know if you can find them. I can show you the way to the water; why is it hard to eat?"

And its other question-... Who was he? And who was it? Had it said..? He considered, but could not remember. And so he spoke, his tangled memories giving him fractured pieces of his own answers, answers he gave with consideration, but little emotion.

"I am Khloros. I carry death." This had long been his title, though he'd never fully understood why. And then, as if this were not ominous and self-important enough--yet with a tone of humble indifference--the horse continued. "Some have called me God." It was true, that he remembered; he could not remember the first, but he recalled the stag Hasira, the Lord, the King, who had nearly bowed before him.

The King who now lay dead, naught but bones and dust, if even that.

"But that King is long-dead," he added to the little creature after this moment of thought. "And who--and what--are you? Why is it hard to eat... Do you pity the mice?"

He tilted his long head some, watching her, and wondering.

It was pleasant, he decided, to have something to think about.
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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

Envy found themselves listening to their words with interest, salavating just a little bit more. The mice hang around green places? That'd certainly be a lot more useful when Envy learned how to hunt for themselves, which they wanted desperately. But now they knew where to start, and they perked up. However, at the big horse's offer, they shook their head and looked proud. "Sometimes, when it gets really bad, I can suck it outta the air!" the young one explained; but that didn't help with the matter of eating. Perhaps it never would. They drooped again, seeing as they didn't know the way to an easy and endless source of mice. "Leaves?"

Their excitement was cut short, however, by their next words, which sent chills of fear down their spine. They let out a small whimper, shrinking down, confused in many ways at their words. Again they scuttled back, to an even safer distance of several more feet away. Then they raised themselves onto their hind paws once more."Carrying death doesn't sound very... not-harmy," they whined accusingly, narrowing their eyes. But it was their second words that made them stay, and also lit a spark of hunger in their eyes. A god? some ingrained instinct told them what that word meant, like the gem embedded in their tongue. "Why do they call you that?" they demanded. "Can I be one too?" and their next words only stirred that feeling. It was no ordinary creature that had called them god. A king. And that made the glitter in Envy's eyes ever more desperate, so much so that they pattered slightly closer, anger and fear dying to the jealousy.

"I'm Envy," the little thing said, raising itself up again. That was who they were, meaning that was what they were. Right? Their next question stirred an uncomfortable feeling in their belly for some reason, causing them to itch behind an ear with a small paw. It was almost as though they shouldn't tell the horse, for some reason- but then they did anyway. They didn't see any reason not to.

"Can't swallow. 'Cause of this. Aaaa-" The weasel opened their mouth wide, showing the faint glitter of the red gem at the very back of their tongue. When they closed their mouth again, they blinked slowly in consideration. "I don't care about the mice. They're tasty, so they deserve it."

It made sense to them.

Khloros listened, quiet, ears pricked and mind attentive to every word. Suck it out of the air..? Food, water? Did it mean water?

"I can draw strength," he explained in his quiet rasp, "from plants around me. Drain them, and grow stronger. It is like... eating; perhaps you can learn, and that stone will no longer stop you," he added, eyeing the rock at its tongue. It was a gem--it had to be, right? Or was it blood? It was very small, and distant, but he thought it was its gem.

He then considered Envy's other words, and one by one, in a slow and cold, logical fashion, he addressed what it had said.

"I carry death; I am not, myself, death. As for a god-... I do not know. It is what they called me. Perhaps because I carry death," he added, probably rather unhelpfully. But it was all that he knew on the subject. Was he a god? He was uncertain. He did not particularly even care. It mattered little to him; it was but a word.

"Mice, too, feel fear, and pain, as you do. Pity them, even if you must end them, as I pity those I must end." He didn't really consider how this might affect the easily-frightened, far-smaller Gembound. Perhaps it would simply assume him to be a carnivore, but regardless, he didn't sound very invested in the subject. More... vaguely conversational.

"Do you hold magical power? Is taking water or food, from the air, yours? I have known those who make light, or dark; who grow things, or drain them, or even burn them," he added, thinking of a rhinocerous he'd met long ago--large, protective, fiery. "But if eating is hard, perhaps you can gain your strength through your power. And perhaps," he added thoughtfully, unaware of how much damage he might do to the little creature through its sheer hunger for power and whatnot, "then you would, too, be called a God."

Yes, that seemed sensible to him.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

Envy listened to their words, at first warily, but quickly their fear mounted into triumph. They began to hop, rapidly raising and dropping their forepaws paws back onto the ground. "I knew it!" they yelled excitedly, suddenly on their feet. "I knew there would be a way to eat without eating!" The little one suddenly stopped, bristling in excitement, and stared at the horse with a steely gaze. "I'm going to do it," they said firmly, placing their paws squarely apart.

They closed their eyes for a second, but then reconsidered, opening one slightly so that they could keep an eye on the horse. They were still slightly afraid of their towering size and their large, glowing eyes, and their title. Slightly envious of some. But they'd never want to be like the horse if it meant having a scent like that. They shuddered, and tried to concentrate, oblivious to the fact that- other than some scraggly moss - there was little plant life around them.

They focused hard, claws driving into the dirt, their jaws opening wide and panting, until- with a surge of... something... dizziness washed over them and caused them to flop back down onto their belly.

Then they opened their eyes again, blinking as though waking up from a long sleep. The horse's words, whilst they offered a little comfort, still felt ominous to the little weasel, and the little one still seemed noticeably ruffled from their failure. They looked as though they were about to yell again, but breathed out deeply and seemed to admit defeat. "So if I... uh... carry death... I'd be a god, too?" whatever that meant. Envy wanted that, and knew that they'd do anything to get it. But after only one short cycle of existence, the little one didn't see themselves spending the rest of their life pursuing it. Perhaps they would.

They sniffed, seeming confused, as they told them to pity the mice. "They seem stupid and weak. I've never seen an alive mouse, but they must be pretty stupid with how easy Mamma catches them!" They wondered if the mice could talk, but something told them; no, mice don't talk. So surely that meant they didn't feel like them, either? Either way, Envy thought of the mice like they would a plant or a rock. They existed and they were tasty, and that was reason enough for them to feel no pity, as though deliciousness was a crime in itself.

Perhaps learning to hunt themselves would change their mind.

"Yes, I can do magic!" Envy puffed out their chest, raising their chin in pride as they stood tall. They also found a little bubble of anger rising as they winced back at their earlier failure. "Mamma and Amras said I'm very gifted in magic. Very!" they gave a matter-of-fact nod. "The first thing I could do was change colour. Then I couldn't drink, so I absorbed water instead when things got really bad. Then, I got really angry and, whoosh! I looked really scary and cool. See? I can do anything! Amras was really surprised, and he's really good at magic! I want to have his magic one day- and then be be even better at it!" They fidgeted, bouncing on the spot once again as their voice rose to a determined yell, and a grin sprawled its way over their face as the horse seemed to tell them- to their ears at least- that one day they would be a god.

"I'll do it, then! I'm going to be a god!"


"Speech"

Khloros continued to stare, unblinking.

It felt no pity; no remorse. He did not care about this, nor judge, but he did take note, observing. It was, though, young; perhaps this would change with time.

It wanted to try to take life from that around it? Well, then.

"I do not know if it will work here," Khloros rasped. "It may be best to go to the green-place. I know the way, and can take you there, if you wish. There is much to eat--and many mice, and little things. And there is water. It is a better place for the living than here." He gazed around, though all he could see was darkness--his mind's eye saw the rocky throne and distant stony buildings, taken from his memory.

Then he looked back at the little creature.

"I do not know if they will call you a God. I know that one must survive on one's own strengths. Cunning, and magic. Though I think you are quick, and small, that you could escape much danger. I could not chase you into little spaces," he added, as an afterthought.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

Envy blinked. they opened their mouth to accept the horse's offer, and then closed it again. "It'll be easier, there?" they asked, thinking hard. If they did decide to travel with the horse, the little weasel would have to fend for themselves, alone. Even if it was easier to absorb food, the little one felt like it'd be just too hard. Besides, Aaliyah knew where water was; they'd only just left behind a little stream. Still, the strange 'green place' the death-horse spoke of had definitely piqued Envy's interest. They blinked once more. "I think I'll get mamma to take me," they decided eventually, more driven by their adopted parent's overprotectiveness and havit of bringing them food than anything else.

But deep within their bratty little heart, was nestled a secret fear that not even Envy was fully aware of. They were terrified that they might never find their way back, and never see her again. "Is it a very long way?" Envy thought it would have to be. They'd never seen much green, after all, even if they had hatched in darkness. Their eyes had just about adjusted over the course of this first taste of life, but they still didn't want to wander too far away from Aaliyah's overprotective claws.

Their next statement statement then caused Envy to whine pleadingly. "But they have to! I'm gonna be a god! You said so!" they whined. When Khloros had finished speaking, they pouted. "I hate being small. It's stupid," they hissed, head drooping. "I hope I'm big like you someday. Is there a spell for that, too?" they looked up hopefully.



"Speech"

Khloros listened to the weasel's sudden barrage of hesitance, whining, insistance. He flicked an ear, but otherwise made no real sign of being irritated or curious about any of it; he merely listened. Considered.

"It is easier to hide. Easier to find food. But there may be more things there that would eat you, as well. I do not know."

He considered the rest. Its--mamma? Memory flickered back, a motherly rhinoceros following him, her soft steps warm with flame. "What is your, Mamma? Where is it? Does it know where to find the green-place? There are many Ways out of this cave. Some lead to ice. Some, to stone. Only one--the worn stone one, with carvings and more lights--that one is the one to the green-place. The place with water, and plants. It is not so long from here, no."

He pushed up--slowly, for him, but in a lurch of bulk and motion, even if skinny, that must seem huge to the tiny weasel. He didn't think about that, that he might frighten Envy. Indeed, his mind was drifting elsewhere.

"I said perhaps. There are kings who were here, little one, and who forgot what a king should do, and they fell. There are those who called themselves queen. I spoke to one here, near the throne that he would claim, long ago. His size did not matter, and neither does yours. I do not know if there is a spell, for that."

He took a few clicking steps forward, lowering his long head on the thin neck to peer at Envy.

"I asked the King, what would you be King of? He chose to rule in fear and anger, to control others through his power, in the hopes of making those of his Kingdom... safe. But others do not like being afraid, and angry, and so they killed him, and ate him. It is not your size that matters, when others at last decide that you must die. It is the influence that you hold, the links that you bear, to those around you. If you have many allies, then your size matters very little. But if you have none... Well, even the dragons die."

Khloros then looked around, slowly, again seeing only his memories of Orion in the pitch dark. A lesson, then, for the little one? He had had a young Queen listen, once before; he wondered what had become of her, in the end. This idle thought drifting through his mind, he continued. "Those who wish to be a God, or a King, must consider what it is that they wish to rule. If you could create a kingdom, little one--any world beneath you that you wished--what would it be..?"

Here Khloros swung his head back around, blinking his ghostly lamplike eyes at Envy, staring at her with a sort of impassive curiosity.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

Envy shuddered. "Well, I don't want to be eaten," they declared, as though that was unusual.

When the horse questioned about their mother, Envy seemed eager to discuss her- perhaps too eager. It was clear that the normally selfish little weasel had a soft spot for at least one. "Mamma is a cat! Almost as big as you! When I saw her last time she was at a stream. You can see all the weird rock walls from the stream like you can here. O-oh, and Amras made it glow, too. We were eating fish. But I've walked a lot since then, and I got lost." They seemed fascinated by the prospect of there being so many other rooms, and perked up onto their hind limbs. "I'm gonna go and find it all, one day," they decided wholeheartedly. "or Mamma can take me."

Hearing about all the other powerful beings who fell- only served to make Envy feel as though everyone else was capable of things that they couldn't dream of. Could they one day be a king or a queen? Could they one day be a god? Could they one day bebetter? They felt a little better, though, and stood up and tried to look tall.

As the strange horse stood up, they watched them fearfully, but this time did not back away again. as they leaned in, Envy finally stepped back as they were once more hit by that powerful stench, their eyes watering. and paws reaching up to cover their nose.

They listened, nodding slowly, although again, the complicated nature of their musings quickly became too much. They hated not understanding, so they focused their utmost hardest and narrowed their eyes. Suddenly being a king didn't sound so good anymore, if your only purpose was to eventually die. But surely there was more to it? Ruling over a bunch of other Gembounds couldn't be that hard. They'd already met a few other creatures, so allies couldn't be a problem, right? Envy's problem then was simplification. They looked at all they'd met so far not as other creatures possessing free will, but as things that had played a part in their life and things that could be used to level them higher, however much they aimed to accomplish on their own. "Being king doesn't sound very nice," they said at last with a sigh. Then they were silent for a long time, considering what it was they were striving towards.

"I just want everything I need. I don't wanna be hungry and thirsty anymore. I wanna be as good as everyone else... Well... Actually, I wanna be better. When I have everything I want, when I'm finally... 'God'... then I won't be Envy anymore." after a long while of struggling with their words, Envy slumped miserably, having still not managed to answer their question of why they wanted such a thing. They slumped, miserably, thinking about how stupid it all was. Why couldn't they have been born right? Why wasn't everything simple?

"How can I be happy? What can I do?" they asked eventually, eyes bleak with despair. Would they ever find happiness? Would they ever be able to eat properly or drink? would they ever stop feeling sick? even if they did become a god, that feeling might never leave. Their eyes welled up with bitter tears and they let out a sob.

"Speech"

The plagued horse pricked up his ears, a soft whuffle of thought coming from him as he listened.

It is hungry; it is thirsty. It is, in a sense, suffering--though not strictly with pain. It does not know what it wants; it only wants not to be miserable. It wishes what all wish--to be safe, and content. Strange, that so many turn to gods and kings to achieve that aim.

He listened to the description of this, Mamma, too. Khloros had seen cats, from time to time--some, big ones; lions, and housecats, leopards that had, too, called themselves King. King, Khloros reflected, is a word used far more often than one would expect. Perhaps they are not so rare.

After a time he lowered his head, soft upper lip feeling along the rocky ground in an absent manner akin to grazing--but his mind was wandering. He thought of cats, and of kings; of weasels and of Gods. He thought of pain, and contentment, and of power, and at last--after he had long been silent, long after Envy finished talking, once his thoughts were gathered--he spoke.

"I am content," Khloros said quietly, "in my own power. I find my food, and take what I need from the world; and I wander, and I think. There is water, and others have never truly attacked me, bar the dragon. And he, I think, is dead--or fled." He lifted his head, watching Envy. "I do not think you need to be a King or a God, to be happy. I think you only need to learn to eat and drink your own way; and to have family, perhaps, or allies, you care for. I do not know all things, but I think others are happiest when they are safe with those they care for. Are you not happy, with your--Mamma?" he asked, tilting his long head. He watched Envy curiously, wondering--again--what it would become.

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BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

The silence only served to feed Envy's misery, their sobbing continuing. They wondered, too, what they would become, but most of the outcomes they saw involved a pile of crumpled bones or a sad old weasel who hadn't eaten in years. They couldn't let that happen, they decided. But what made great beings so great? what did they do that was different?

The first thing that Envy realized was that everyone- Amras, Flicker, their Mamma -everyone they'd met had never been reduced to sobbing like they had. The thought brought an ache of pain to their heart that only made them sob louder. No, stupid! I have to stop it! That's what'll make me better! they reasoned with themselves, though they couldn't see how that'd help anything else. They instead whimpered, sniffling quietly, the fur around their eyes dark with moisture. But they clutched their paws to their chest and tried to be strong, instead watching Khloros try to nibble at the ground. "You can't eat rocks, idiot!" they said pointedly, seemingly finding solace in the perceived missteps of others.

When they finally began to speak, the weasel unconsciously pattered a few steps closer to listen, then craned themselves upward as far as they could manage, even though they could never hope to stand at eye level with the massive beast. They lifted their lip in a disgruntled manner. "Well, I'm not content," they muttered. "How can I be when everyone else has what I can't? When even the stupidest, simplest things like eating and drinking make me sick? How can I be happy seeing everyone else eating and being happy, or drinking and feeling refreshed? I hate it..." Their voice took on a bitter tone, their head drooping once more. They sniffed, vision blurring, but they held in the sobs and just trembled instead.

They spokje, now speaking of how they thought they could be happy. But nothing would change the way they had been born. Even if they could absorb food or water, they'd never be able to shed their gem's poisonous nature. they might always feel ill. they might always be thin. They'd never get to feel truly satisfied after absorbing nourishment rather than consuming it. "My mamma is the greatest. My mamma is big, and strong, and she can do anything. She's fit and healthy and she hunts for me and... and it hurts." Envy thought wistfully back to Aaliyah, their eyes again prickling with tears. They meant everything they said, of course; Aaliyah was the one who'd kept them tethered to this world when they certainly would have died. But at the same time, she was everything they could never be, everything they craved and desired in themselves. However much they loved their mamma, looking at her hurt very much.


"Speech"