ORIGIN

WINGS. I shall have wings! I WILL have wings! I will have WINGS!

Alligators are not known for moving quickly, but this one--despite his huge bulk, and despite his half-ruined right hind leg--came practically bounding into Orion from Polaris's connecting tunnel. It was a rough, lopsided gallop, of sorts, and the alligator kept his head firmly held high in the air. This was because he was carrying seven red--or variations on red--gems and stones in his mouth. Some were more... orange-red, some dark streaked with black; some were small, some large, some smoothly polished, one jagged.

And he was looking for more.

He was convinced that the three birds offering wings for colored stones were actually seeking lost gems--perhaps, he'd guessed, those of Raheerah the red dragon, that blue ice-phoenix, and the deer coated in fungus. That was his guess, anyway.

He looked slowly around.

The place was black, nearly pitch black; the faint light from Polaris simply didn't reach, here. Slowly he turned back, making his way to the walls, feeling his way along. He'd only been here once, he thought--and only passing through; he wasn't entirely sure where to go, or where to look, or where those birds even were. All he knew was that he was going to get wings, and fly.

Or so he thought.

He had no idea the wings were not actual, functioning wings, and BOY was he going to be upset when he found out.

Eventually, the alligator found a place with scraps of dry grass, and he determined to set this alight so that he could begin his search for red-colored stones. He wasn't sure how much longer he had left to deliver them, but he intended to at least have a look around here in Orion before he did so.

He opened his jaws some, turning them to the side, and VERY carefully tried to summon up just the teensiest, tiniest flame to ignite the kindling. He in no way wanted to burn himself badly with no water readily available, and so he was cautious not to summon too much. This way, at least, if the spell backfired as it'd been doing, he would not die.

Poof. A heat rose in his gullet, searing, and a small puff of flame coursed out, there then gone, but in its light he made out the vaguest idea of where he was--and the grass, thankfully, did catch. It smoldered, providing him some light, at least, to search by... at least for a little while.

Right.

Now that he had fire, it was time to search in earnest.

The alligator glanced around, ensuring nothing was creeping up to the light's edge, and then set to work. There was a stone wall of some kind some distance ahead, unnaturally straight--and curved cave wall to his left. There was, too, loose rock and more grass ahead.

It didn't look like a bad place to search, really, even if it was terribly, miserably dry, here.

Dragon nudged at the ground, flipping rocks in the dust, moving quickly in the sputtering light of the small fire.

Immediately, he was rewarded for his efforts, and almost at once he felt vindicated for choosing to search here, rather than Polaris. This! Now this was a rock. Solid, glossy, perfectly smooth, and striated with deep black. It looked like clotted blood; it looked like distant glowing coals.

What an utterly excellent rock.

No other rock could possibly live up to this rock.

Truly, it was the best of rocks.

Dragon scooped it into his jaws, and continued his search.

Next, this... rock. Thing. It is too straight! It was built, by someone, or something, but for what? And how? How strange. Perhaps they piled mud up until it dried, and then cut it down. No matter.

Dragon crawled his way slowly to this building, and began to scratch about in the loose and rocky soil beside it. Again he was seeking red rocks. He wasn't sure how many he actually needed, but more were surely better.

Carefully, he clawed out pebbles one by one, eyeing them over with a head twisted entirely to one side. How annoying it was for his eyes to be on top of his head, sometimes.

Hrm--nothing here.

He scratched around here and there, for a bit, but found nothing. Slowly, he lifted his reptilian head, looking around.

There--in the distance--something reflected his firelight, if briefly.

Crystals? ...Only one way to find out.

With a soft huff of exertion, the alligator turned, dragging himself with slithering hide-on-rock away from the light of his flames.

...On second thought, he came back and grabbed a mouthful of burning grass to carry with him, cautious not to burn himself too badly. He really, really didn't want to melt his mouth by failing a second spellcast.

Dragon carefully tilted his head, pressing the remains of the barely-flaming grass to a swathe of new--well, brownish and dry, but different--grass higher up. He was now nearer the Tower, with the glinting quartz which had, from something of a distance, caught his eye.

For a time, he peered up at the tower in silence, wondering suspiciously if it might suddenly lunge down and attack him. In point of fact, Dragon had no idea what a tower was, and had never seen anything like it.

Is it alive? It is shining. Are those eyes...? Is this how it hunts?

Dragon let out a low, bellowing roar, but the tower did not respond to this challenge, this threat. It was clearly either a coward, or inanimate. Guessing the latter--but eyeing it suspiciously from a distance nonetheless--he began to prowl about just out of what he guessed might be its reach (in case it did come alive and attack him), nudging the dirt and picking over the rocks.

Of course, he kept a careful eye, too, on the potentially dangerous sentinel... thing.

He found nothing, after some searching.

Dragon eyed the tower.

Perhaps it had taken the red stones for itself? He debated, for a moment; would he go inside, and seek? Or stay out here? Hrmph; he didn't want to have to make fire again, and there was no point risking being eaten by a giant stone--thing. Perhaps that was the birds' plan all along...

Dragon crept closer to the tower, carefully. Bit by bit. He watched it, all the time, tilting his head first one way, then the other, just in case.

Still, it did not attack.

Drawing yet closer in a limping, dragging high-walk, he lifted his head to sniff over its stone surface. He could see now, closer, that the glinting lights were crystals embedded in the stone--pale, not red, and thus useless to him. Still, he was now fairly certain that the thing was not alive, nor hunting, and so he turned his attention back to the ground. He began to move along the outer edges of the tower, his thick ridged tail dragging along behind him, the tip of his lower jaw gently bumping the ground to feel for loose stone.

Whenever he found some, he backed up and tilted his head to eye the ground, looking for anything red in the distant, dying firelight.

Out of a few dozen stones and pebbles that he passed over, he managed to pick out one that he thought looked red enough to be taken to the birds; this one he carefully scooped up, tossing it into his jaws. It clattered in with the others, and he turned, hauling his heavy body back away from the tower.

Where could he head next? He slugged onward, peering about as he went, trying to decide which direction--with the low visibility--was best to take.

NINE STONES. Even his thoughts were a bellow.

He was hurrying along the outer edges of the Forum, though he had no idea what this was. He peered down into it sidelong, pausing, but decided not to go down there--because that meant coming back up; and his damaged leg was already aching very badly.

No matter. Soon I will be flying! Oh, the glory of it. I will no longer ache, but soar, truly! --through the caves!

This thought spurring him on, he turned and moved around the forum entirely. That--what was that? Ahead, there was some sort of looming... something, in the lightless dark, looming.

With a huff, the alligator nosed around, looking for more grass to set alight--more things that he could use for light, by which to search.

He found some quickly enough, and focused, inhaling deeply--the air fuelling his inner flames. Just in time he remembered not to go full-out--so as not to obliterate himself to ash should he fail his cast. Gently, he would incinerate the foliage. Gently.

The flame puffed out gently indeed, perfectly formed and glowing, setting the tinder alight in a crackling blaze. The pain wasn't even all that bad, this time, and the alligator clapped his jaw shut contentedly at the result, before plodding onward.

There--it was a throne, a seat, though he didn't know that, either. To him it was just a tall-dark-thing of stone, ominously looming, a cousin perhaps to the tower he'd left behind. He eyed this, too, suspiciously, and then began to cast about near its feet.

But not too close.

Just in case.

Along the half-crumbled walls surrounding the throne, lit by flickering firelight, Dragon nosed about. Rocks, rocks, rocks--grey. Black. Brown. He exhaled hot air, and then snuffled in the dust, turning his head sideways--repeatedly--to try and spot a red one.

Find one he did--but it wasn't as nice as the others. Then again, nothing could beat that beautiful black-streaked one.

Perhaps I should keep that one for myself. Imbue it with life. See if something hatches. Yet-... WINGS.

No, wings were better. Better than almost anything. Oh, what he wouldn't do to fly! ...It would probably be best not to find out, really; he might betray everything he'd ever cared for, simply for a dragon's true form.

The alligator managed to nudge the reddish rock up and into his jaws, where it clattered in with the others; he then turned, moving around to the other side of the walls.

It was darker, here, in the place where some long-ago king had sat upon his throne, and, somehow, fallen. Of course, Dragon wasn't thinking like this. All Dragon was thinking was--... Well.

Wings. Wings. Wings. Wings. Wings...

The bull alligator was almost excited, even, infused with a fervent energy he had not known since his youth. His adult life could be called indolent by the ignorant, but his conservation of energy was, rather, a simply reptilian trait. No ambush predator ran around hunting; they lay in the black water and waited for prey to come to them. He wasn't fat, he was bulky. This, regardless, was a level of movement and intensity which he had not exhibited since the battle in Polaris many cycles ago.

Intent upon his task, Dragon flipped a fairly heavy chunk of stone and turned his head, peering down at what lay beneath.

Hrm-... A few brownish pebbles, some black--that one was red enough, probably. It was a bit on the brown side, perhaps, but it was thickly speckled with black, and at least a little attractive to the eye. Hopefully the bird would accept this.

Dragon hoisted this one up, and then--after eyeing the other rocks in the pile, and assuring himself that none were a "red" enough brown to be acceptable--scuffled onward.

Some hours later, the alligator was a little less enthusiastic. He'd run, it would seem, entirely out of luck, and for some time had been rummaging, searching and carrying his fire (by way of transplanted wads of torn-up, flaming grass shoved into unburnt grass) from place to place.

The rocks were all pale, or brown, or black, or any number of other colors that were very distinctly not red.

He was now-... Well, somewhere else, somewhere farther on. He could hear the distant voices of other Gembounds, and had caught a glimpse of light once or twice--the birds, perhaps--but for now he stayed distant.

He needed more rocks.

What was this? Ahh-... A tunnel mouth. He crept inside, and glanced around; a quick look up showed him--very barely-lit now by his somewhat distant fire--a great draconic face carved into the stone.

Dragon stared, in awe, for some time--and then bellowed, roaring, his voice (despite the rocks in his mouth) carrying with a hiss.

The figure, however, was made out of stone-... Logically, he knew it wouldn't do anything, but still... somehow, he was disappointed. With a huff, the alligator glanced around again, and then hauled himself entirely back into Orion, nudging the ground. Perhaps the dragon would grant him a few red stones. Wings, after all, were important to dragons.

Ahh! Yes! Good!

This was red. Dragon flipped it up into his mouth, and paused, staring into the tunnel, again.

He then turned, and looked into the blackness of Orion, eyes glittering in the firelight.

Why would the dragon face be guarding this entrance?

Dragon sat thinking, for a time, staring out into Orion with his mouthful of rocks, unblinking and silent.

Is it only a symbol, or was it modelled after Raheerah himself..? Did he live here? Was it a warning against him--or was he a guardian here? Did he claw it from the stone himself, to mark his land? No--... No, he claimed the caves, all of them. Perhaps he was locked away, then...? Or perhaps--there were more dragons, once. Like me.

Dragon pondered. He had not grown in some time--he'd stopped at around sixteen feet long. And while he was big, he wasn't dragon-sized; he wasn't Aquarian-sized. Hrm.

The alligator mentally shook the thought away, and then looked down, nudging his way further beneath the strange statue, looking for more stones. Red ones, of course, in particular. He found nothing more here, though; perhaps the single red stone he'd found was the only one here. Ahh, well; he would move on, for now.