ORIGIN

If Eythan had managed to sense the hyena’s brief intrusion, he did not mention it. Too many other things were swimming frantically in his headspace, waters churning in the wake of tattered, frenetic fins. He flinched at the reassuring paw landing on his spotted, shaking shoulders, like Giggle had just assaulted him. But gradually, he managed to release that tension again, a sob breaking through weary shoulders. Any sense of composure had shattered across the floor as the griffin let his wings sag. He could distantly hear the gentle clattering of the bone pit welcoming their seer, looking up with blurry eyes to see her at the ledge, keel in her jaws. His father, guiding.

He watched mutely as the bones shifted, clattering and spinning across stone smooth and jagged. For a moment, Eythan wished he had that Sight as well. In a better time, he’d ask about it. After his redemption. Not during. His eyes followed his father’s keel, yet it seemed to slip from his blurry eyes, vanishing into the pile. Wiping away tears and sniffing to avoid some more, the griffin struggled to his haunches. Bright eyes met the darkness of Giggle’s, trying to identify the shifts in her demeanor and what they meant. His body tensed, preparing for dread.

Dread. Not throwing caution to the wind, not exploring. The bones had offered for him to move forwards, to move on. With someone. Together, hand-in-hand. With his brother— no, not that brother. The one on his way. The one Azazel had truly chosen. But perhaps with the hyena as well. The world steadily shifted back into focus, and Eythan had half the mind to whisper reverently to the bones, ”thank you.” For their guidance, however vague it was. Watching as Giggle moved back towards him, he paused, mulling over his thoughts.

His beak opened and closed a few times, words rolling about on his tongue but not quite being given sound. With a final and resolute sigh, he responded, ”I’ll be better.” Hopefully that false certainty would make way for actual confidence and action. ”I’ll—” he hesitated, drawing his wings back to his flanks, ”I’ve already learned some things. No more impulse—I need to think first. Act later. But— I’ll keep learning, keep going. Forward.” He’d keep trying. ”For him.” As to who ‘him’ referred to, Eythan wasn’t quite sure. Azazel? His little brother? ”Both of them,” he added.

She shifted closer to him and Eythan had to physically restrain the urge to scoot away. "Thank you," he murmured with an appreciative nod towards the bonecaster. "I can't think of anything r-right now." Well, nothing specific. It'd take him a moment to pin down a certain thing. But, at least that door was open. He could tell Giggle was tiring out, though. It'd been a hard few days for the both of them. After crying so many times, the griffin himself was happy to go back to sleep.

"I was thinking of making a den in the chambers. I don't want to... take his." It'd be disrespectful if he did. Azazel's old nest still remained at the highest point, undisturbed. The amethyst and glowing bone still had yet to be touched. They were still, resting. Both were comforting, but Eythan'd let them lie. They weren't his. "I don't know if I want to leave or not yet. It's been a while. I'll be here when my brother hatches, though."

At the coy question masked by good-natured expressions, Eythan swallowed. His talons itched, lies already spinning to the forefront of his mind, afraid of how the hyena would react to the truth about Carni's death. The griffin's gaze searched the bone pit, resting on the keel. He contemplated it, mulling over it. She'd know if he was lying, with her intrusive magic delving into his mind. There was no point in lying, no matter how much he wanted to deny that he had killed his own brother as well.

Levelling his voice the best he could, he managed to meet Giggle's eyes. "I— I killed Carni. Intentionally. He was going to tell everyone what I did and I— I was angry at him for wearing my fathers and for trying to steal Dad's legacy." If the hyena dug deep into his mind, she'd see dark talons sullying pale flesh and bone, betrayed red eyes staring deep into his own. For the ninetieth time that day, tears welled up in his eyes. "I could see his magic glowing and I was terrified of what he was going to do with it—he was so much better at it than me a-and I—I killed him." Pain drives people to do stupid things. Impulsive things. But fear? That drove them to do horrible things.

"You are an idiot," she said dryly, directly into his mind. Eythan jumped slightly at the intrusion, seeing no motion of the mouth or anything to indicate that the bonecaster had spoken. Another facet of her magic, he supposed. That was the least of his worries right now. As he sagged to the floor rather pitifully, she simply just mentioned some garden and offered an opportunity to rest. "You s-should too," he elected, pointedly choosing to ignore the mentally spoken statement from before despite the firm praise. "A-after you do your thing."

As for making up for poor Omen's plight, he hadn't quite figured that out yet. The griffin distantly remembered a flash of feathers, wondering if they were still intact. Muddy and ruined, likely, but still intact. He'd find them and he'd bring them back. It was something. Azazel's wing feathers had been buried out of spite, putrid anger surging through the spotted hybrid. But it wasn't a proper burial or funeral. They needed to be with the King's bones, wherever they were. That is, if Giggle had fully unearthed them rather than just taking the keel.

He'd see about that when he wasn't shaking with hysterical sobs.

Calamity to calamity Eythan’s mind flitted. With a ragged sigh, he nodded, ”good,” as if he were in charge of the hyena’s own well-being. They both needed to sleep. ”I’ll wait. You’ll probably wake up before me.” He was too tired to see any more things, too tired to look for anything else. Despite having barely moved, the griffin felt as if his bones would slip from his body, muscles too tense and worn to keep them within. Days and days of paranoia hadn’t treated him too kindly.

Had he been a little more awake, Eythan would have been all too eager to see the one other thing, despite it possibly bringing harm to his mental state. What more could it do to him? There was already the impossibly heavy weight of blood on his talons, his shoulders. But, he just sighed childishly and tucked his tail about his prone self. ”M-maybe when I wake up. I’m tired.” A quick little blip of childhood nostalgia crept up his spine, causing his talons to twiddle and fumble. ”C-can I sleep with his bo—” he blurted abruptly. Eythan snapped his beak shut with an audible click! and looked away. He sniffed, ”sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just go. Do what you need to do. I’ll be here.”

Pointedly standing and limping to his chosen resting spot, Eythan flopped down and curled up, ears flicked back mournfully.

Eythan was inexplicably startled when an actual snort met his ears. Wearily picking up his head, he quirked his brows. So... she did have his bones. She had found all of them. His pelt pricked with apprehension, twitching uneasily. "Oh," he murmured, mostly to himself. The griffin tucked his chin, cool beak meeting his jugular as he thought. Can I bring myself to face him? was at the forefront of his mind. The answer flew from yes to no, no to yes, yes to maybe. Standing suddenly, he made his choice. Wings tucking close to his sides in self-assurance, he followed.

The walk was silent, full of apprehension on Eythan's part. There were bouts of hesitation, moments where his heart hitched and he wanted desperately to turn back. But he pressed on. Forward. To the cairn hidden from view. Azazel's bones were miraculously unscathed by rot and decay. Two years dead and he had persevered, endured. His throat choked and no matter how many words he wanted to speak, to cry out, to whine, he couldn't. He was silent as he strode toward the Bone King, now truly living up to his name. Tears spent, all Eythan could do was wheeze softly and sit before his father. "Dad... I-I'll bring y-your feathers back to you," he croaked, "if t-they're s-still there. A-and..." His gaze shifted towards the chambers. "A-and the stuff i-in your nest." The bones were silent, but Eythan knew his father deserved to rest in comfort among his trinkets and treasures. The Bone King deserved to be warm and benevolent as he had been in life.