ORIGIN

Kera didn't like wandering. It kept bringing her to strange places. Not long ago she was in a room of running water and moss, and now she was in a room that smelled wet in water that was up to her belly, wading through aimlessly.

The further she got into this room, squinting in the darkness, the deeper the water got, until she was paddling in pitch-black water in a pitch-black room. It hadn't been as bad as being swept away by the current when she fell in the river trying to save Aka in Polaris, but she had been at least able to see in there.

Scrambling carefully towards a tall, dark figure-- a tree, Kera had realised --she crawled back up onto land. It didn't feel any drier than the water had under her feet, but it would do for now. She wouldn't drown here.

Shaking her fur dry, she sat herself down. Looking left yielded no results, looking right yielded the same. She could only see yawning blackness sprawling out for miles, it seemed. Bristling, Kera lowered her nose to the muddy ground.

It stank. The ground, that is. The large caps that pushed out of the ground and spouted up around her. There were dozens of them-- growing and spreading and multiplying across the ground around her, supplying a gentle but eerie blue-green glow.

It helped Kera to see, if minutely. Being able to see a few feet in front of her was always a good thing, at least. She settled herself down carefully to the ground with a soft grunt, getting herself comfortable on squelching mud as she glanced around this new room with her ears perked high, listening.

Dragon could lay for hours--even days--motionless in the black Heart of Cetus, silent in its waters. Often he lurked near the shore, looking like little else than a dark, mossy log, until a prey animal got too close to his jaws, to drink. Or he would see one, at a distant point at the marsh's edge, drinking--and submerge, slowly drifting closer with silent sweeps of his broad, ridged tail, until massive jaws erupted in a spray of water to haul his victim down.

However, he avoided killing the greater gembounds--the sentient ones--when he could help it. There had been a... mistake, once; he'd killed one before it had had a chance to speak, and its death throes had brought its last words. He had given life to that one's stone, but it was a mistake he tried not to repeat.

Now, however, with the caves pitch black, he had another problem: he could no longer see his potential prey. Instead, he had to listen, and closely. And now, he heard an unusual sound: the splashing paddle of some creature actually crossing the marsh.

In an instant he was near-submerged, gliding forward in silence, arrowing across the water for the swimmer.

He heard the squelching, though, of the creature clambering through the mud--and onto shore; and Dragon followed, as quietly as he could.

He crept through the undergrowth, listening for the footsteps--but they had gone. Instead, however, something else came: a faint bioluminescent glow in the distance, a light that had not been there before.

What is that?

Curious, quiet, he slowly crept with a few rustles of leaves and marsh grass to the edge of the light, eyeing the white canine within. It reminded him of the red one he had killed; he would not kill this one. It had made this light itself--or, at least, he thought it had. He had never seen this before.

He hauled his massive, long bulk up to the faint light, and looked at the creature within. Then, at last, he spoke.

"You can speak?" he asked. Best to check--if it couldn't, it was going on the offering pile.

Kera lifted her head at the sound of something surfacing from the water. Her gaze snapped towards Dragon as he spoke, wide-eyed, confused. "What?" came a brilliant inital reply, half-mumbled, before she shifted and sat up again. "I can speak. Hello."

Her fur was caked with mud-- it was unpleasant, and cold, and dirty. She only just started making an effort to lick her chest clean, though her eyes never left the alligator. She'd seen many things with fur, and some things with feathers, and a thing with both fur and feathers, but she was quite certain this thing didn't have either.

It looked a bit like a tree. Perhaps it had tree-bark, instead of feathers or fur?

"Who are you?" she asked, huddled close to her cluster of glowing mushrooms. "I'm Kera. I'm going to turn the lights back on. I can make lights, too." She placed a paw on top of a cap, as if Dragon were somehow not aware of them yet.

She watched a moment longer, silent for a beat. "What do you do?"

Dragon listened.

It can speak, he thought. And, close on the heels of this, ...the lights? Good. Perhaps I will get some answers at last.

"I," he declared, "am Dragon. I am a Child of Rot and the son of Aquarian of the swamp."

What did he do? Well, that was kind of a hard one. All his children were left, vanished, dead. He made fire; he did do that. He sought answers--but did he really, anymore? Aquarian had told him only that he would learn once he had lived a very long time. That was his answer, then.

"I survive," he said.

The creature before him looked distinctly cold. Wet. It was, he reflected, one of those who was like Tal'at and Czernobog had been--furred, and needing heat. He himself was a little cool. He would provide heat--and more light.

"Tell me of the lights, Kera," he demanded as he turned away--trying the name on his tongue. It felt strange. "Tell me what has happened."

He turned, summoning up his powers, his broad jaw opening wide. Light flared and swelled down in the depths of his gullet; it grew coal-bright, then fire-bright, and then flames burst forth in a small blast from his jaws. It was carefully-done--not a flamethrower-torrent as it could be; he was too careful and nearly failed at calling the fire forth at all. But come it did--along with the agonizing pain. A moment after a cluster of reeds ignited in a flaring bonfire, Dragon dipped his open jaw into the thickly muddy marsh water, as was his habit. Feeling the cool muck soothing his burns, he eyed Kera, and awaited what wisdom she had to share.

Of the things Dragon mentioned, Kera knew exactly none of them. She didn't know what a dragon was-- though she supposed she was looking at one, mystery solved --or a child of rot (again, probably looking at one) or who Aquarian was. If Dragon was his son, though, he probably looked like Dragon. Mystery solved. It did not stop her from asking, however-- "Who is Aquarian? What does it do?"

She listened further, ear twisting thoughtfully at Dragon's answer to what he did. They all survived. They all did the same thing? Maybe Dragon was just useless, and he was jusWAS THAT FIRE.

... WHAT.

The pup had almost entirely forgotten about the lights and survival as actual literal fire was expunged out the alligator's mouth. With wide eyes she recoiled, watching with both horror and awe. She knew the concept of fire, but she had never seen it, and she didn't know there were those out there who could do more than grow mushrooms or make lights.

The fire, in itself, was light, Kera supposed. Her head turned to Dragon, then to the burning reeds. She shifted closer to the bonfire, shaking her fur out. Fire, as the pup found, was hot. It was a welcome change from the cold, at least.

"The lights," she said. "I don't know much about them. I know they're important. I know they're gone. I know I'll turn them back on again." She nodded, more to herself, importantly, and then continued.

"I think someone turned them off. I don't know why. I think it might be a cat who could make light-- I think he wants people to rely on him for light. Selfish, and things. I haven't seen him since, but he was there when I-- hatched, I think? He had light. He told me about the other lights," she took a breath, licking her chest for a moment. "But I don't know if it was him. It doesn't matter, because I'll turn them back on regardless of who turned them off in the first place, and if they do it again, I'll just turn them back on again."

Dragon turned, listening.

Well, this creature was useless, he thought grimly.

"Tell me more about this cat. Though it was likely Nemean. The betrayer," he growled. He had never really found out what Nemean even was, or did, but Aquarian hated her, and blamed her for... various things, and that was enough.

Anything terrible happening in the caves was probably Nemean's fault.

"Aquarian is the guardian of this swamp. He lives deep beneath the black water and he is far, far larger than I," Dragon began explaining--only mentioning Aquarian's greater size with some reluctance. "I believe that Nemean--a tiny, angry creature with lights and buzzing--lied to him greatly, and betrayed him. She wished us all dead."

Dragon lifted himself, his hind leg dragging slightly as always, and hauled himself closer to the fire before settling back down. He basked in its warmth, and light, closing his dark eyes as he did so.

"I know that the lights are warm, as well as bright. Perhaps there is fire in them. But if you do not know how they went out, or how to turn them on, then what do you plan to do? Why are you here? I do not think your answers lie here, if that is what you seek to find. We could try, perhaps, to ask my father."

The cat? Kera could barely remember. "Its name is Zevruu," she said. "I last saw it in a room with crystals on the ceiling. It had a light on its neck. It had stupid ears." She watched Dragon for a moment, thinking over the name Nemean for a moment.

It rang no bells. Betrayer? She didn't know anyone named The Betrayer, but she supposed it meant something bad. "Who is Nemean?" she asked. "If she turned off the lights, then I have to find her. I'll make sure she never does it again."

She wondered, briefly-- how would she do that? Would she kill it? Possibly. If it meant it would make other people happy, and give them lights, and make Kera a hero, she'd do it. She'd probably eat Nemean at that, too. Maybe Nemeans tasted good.

Kera stared off into the water, for a moment. "Is Nemean a bad thing?" she asked. "Have you tried to get rid of it? What's stopped you before? Is it hard to find?"

She looked back towards Dragon, thoughtful. "Maybe," she said. "I'm still trying to think out my plan. I don't think it was an accident? I think Nemean, or the cat-- maybe both tried to get rid of the lights but I don't know why. Do you think they're trying to kill people with the darkness?"

Kera didn't know if it was possible. The hyena said something about blackness and eyes but it made no sense to her-- Nemean must surely be bad. "Have you tried putting a light on fire, if they're made of fire?" she asked abruptly. "If you put it on fire-- then it'd be a light again, right? If it was made of fire?"

She thought, for a moment, then nodded. "If your father would know. I know I can't put the lights back on alone, so maybe I need to talk to you and your father first before I can do it," a hind leg lifted to scratch the back of her ear. "Is he near? Do we have to swim?"

Dragon considered.

"Zevruu. I will remember this name." He then thought back--how had Nemean escaped? No--she'd never even shown herself, had she? She'd fled before they could confront her at all.

"Last time, it buzzed away, and it hid. Our father was very angry with it. We feed him; and he is family. I leave him food. Help me hunt, and add to the pile; and then we can call for him, and should he come, ask him if he knows what is wrong with the lights. I had thought," Dragon continued, that were it important, he would call to us first. But perhaps not."

He turned, basking his other side beside the flames, and eyed Kera thoughtfully. She was-... small.

"Are you good at hunting?" he asked. "There are deer, and rats, and fish; spiders, too, but those are dangerous."

He wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of it before, honestly. They should add to the somewhat-rotten offering pile, and then call upon his father.

Help him hunt? Help him do the one tedious thing Kera hated the most? And for what, possible information on the lights, on Nemean, The Betrayer, She Who Wished People Dead? If Dragon's father had told him at least this, then it may give her more information on where to look and how to fix the lights. She'd have to suck up hunting for once.

"I'm good at catching fish," she said. She'd only ever fallen in the crystal river once, and it was because of a betrayer-owl. Perhaps the owl was Nemean, trying to trick her? Was Nemean a bird? "I can catch rats by luring them with light and mushrooms, but I'm not very good at chasing after them."

She lifted her left leg, briefly. "I hurt my leg in a fight and it's not been working very well since," the pup explained. A pause, then she added. "I won the fight." She hadn't. Not really.

"I've seen deer but I'm too small to catch them," she said. "But I'm growing. So one day I'll catch them. I've caught small spiders and they're small and crunchy and gross."

Cleaning her paws by the fire, Kera stared off into Cetus. "How much do we need to catch for him, until we can call for him?"

Dragon considered, glancing over his shoulder with some thought.

"The offering pile is already large," he said, "and I always fill it, yet I do not call him. He comes when he wishes." Honestly, Dragon wasn't sure when the last time was that Aquarian had come. He himself had just been adding to the pile, and letting the rot of the previous victims lure the new. Quite possibly it had been the savage black cave rats eating from it.

"We just need to add some fresh things," he decided. "Try your light--but know that the black rats are savage, and may kill you. Hrm. Let us go near the pile, and you may add a light, and I will try to catch what comes."

He turned, slowly plodding off, away from the light of the fire and the bioluminesence, and toward the offering pile out on the reedy peninsula at the edge of the marsh. Here he splashed into the water and turned himself, drifting, well within the range of the utterly rancid stench of the half-putrescent pile.

He didn't think Aquarian would mind the stink; he sure didn't.

"Try it here," he suggested.