ORIGIN

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Pride listened intently, and was quite relieved at Envy's further reasoning. It seemed far more... empathetic than what they'd said prior, and he felt even a little ashamed that he had assumed them to be so selfish. Yet some part of him, too, was distantly and faintly disappointed that he could not study Envy's reaction further in that vein. This part of him, though, was as yet so tiny that he failed to even consciously note it, instead focusing on the rest of the weasel's words.

He laughed, quiet and good-natured, unable to see the shining stone.

"I think you are quite right, King Envy." he agreed, quite agreeably. "There is enough pain in the caves already, without more sad stories. I will try to think of happy ones, ones with hope--and joy--but this story belongs to us all. And in your version, perhaps there is a happy ending. I did say you could tell a version all your own; perhaps in yours, he finds a way, whatever that way might be."

He settled into a comfortable silence, pondering the possibilities--and thinking on a new one.

What if the endings that others wrote truly, unselfconsciously reflected their own personalities? What if the decisions they chose for the story showed who they were, beneath whatever face they had chosen to wear?

And in that vein--what ending would he write? Perhaps my leaving it open-ended is an answer in its own right, he reflected. A thing revealing, perhaps, of my curiosity, of my interest in others and their thought patterns, their beliefs and values, of my love of creativity and wish to inspire it in others--in fact...

"Perhaps, King Envy," he suggested, "you could create happy stories of your own."

@Envy

Envy relaxed, relieved, quills lowering. They nodded, more out of habit, despite knowing that Pride could not see them. "Yes, yes!" they trilled, the relief showing through despite their show of confidence. "Of course I'm right!" they thought about the idea that Pride presented them, and puffed out their chest slightly, tail twitching, their gaze holding a faraway look for a second. They noticed vaguely that the gem's momentary glow had subsided, and their whiskers twitched a little in disappointment.

Could they really tell it? They would surely change it a lot. The central protagonist would of course be a weasel like them, a very powerful weasel. They could be majestic too! Gembounds respected them, too! And that set them wondering, thinking back to Pride's story, running it over in their mind.

"Maybe I could! I have a few ideas already! We could even tell them together!" they twittered in elation, sucking in their breath. "Watch this!"

Or maybe Envy's story could be about them! They could tell their own story, about how they had risen and become so strong despite the odds stacked against them. The weasel's fur glistened and the air before them shimmered- and the weasel had created an image- a silhouette of the wolf, leading a herd of creatures up a hill standing tall above rising waters. It was a series of crude silhouettes- various aspects shimmering between various states of transparency. It was like a puppet show- though the wolf was the only thing that moved, its legs walking, the waves and other creatures- mostly just blobs with legs and eyes simply bobbing up and down.

The weasel stood and bounced, holding the gem in their mouth with glee. It was wonderful! With this, they would be able to tell amazing stories!

...But surely they would sound better coming from the mouth of Pride. They realized that they wanted to hear Pride tell their story.

They weren't sure what the kingdom would think if they made their own. And part of them shied away from the idea. Their mind flicked over a thousand possibilities and ideas so wondrous, imagining Gembounds gathered around to hear them speak.

"Pride?" they asked after a moment, breaking the silence. "You think you'll ever tell my story?"

Speech. Thought.

@Pride

Pride watched the images with surprise, and pleasure.

"Oh, that is fabulous, Envy," he said, with real and warm admiration. "We could absolutely tell stories together, whenever you wish--your imagery to my words, perhaps? Would you teach me how to do that, myself? I would love to toy with it; I remember you using something similar before--illusions, I believe?--but not like this. This is fantastic." His mind ran over all the possibilities--and for once, rather than its usefulness in a battle, the idea of magic was one of fantasy and beauty, of capturing the imagination.

How interesting! How fascinating!

As to the other question, Pride tilted his head, peering back a bit. "Tell your story? That may be hard; I've a feeling it's only just beginning. It certainly isn't over, yet. And I think I've missed parts of it. We met, yes; you wished to be king, you were ever in a great deal of pain," Pride began, ticking off the points mentally as he spoke.
"Yet you coped well and strove against it, and grew powerful in magics. Then there was that rather tragic bit in Tunnel N, but that isn't over yet, is it? Not hardly. What was your life like before we met? And when we were apart?"

His tone was curious, but it was perhaps telling that Pride omitted the entire "becoming a king" part. It wasn't deliberate; he simply didn't think it that important. To him, being would-be leader of a few ragtag Gembounds wasn't exactly a kingdom or a kingship, though he did call Envy his king and respect them. No; Envy's achievements, to Pride, lay in a far more personal vein. The triumph of willpower, the tenacity of a weasel, the ferocity of an ally.

@Envy

Envy felt Pride's praise warm them from nose to the very tip of their tail. They grinned, puffing out their chest proudly, and basking in the deer's admiration. Any onlooker would have said they'd looked quite pompous in that moment, with crown shimmering atop their head. "Yes, yes! just imagine it! Imagine the Kingdom gathered around! Gems coming from far and wide to watch and listen!" They nodded, setting quills rattling softly. They watched until the illusion faded, but they kept it going for as long as they could.

They took a moment to consider, then, thinking hard at Pride's request. He wanted to... learn it. They found themselves growing hesitant, cradling their etherial possession in their mind, but Pride's excitement was tantalizing. They had to tread carefully. Perhaps he would forget later! "...Yes! I can teach you! Though... illusions can be quite finnicky, and hard. Do you know any other spells that deal with light? Perhaps practice with those would help?" Envy thought that reasonable. After all, they'd learned first to absorb light, before they could control it. The two spells felt different, but they dealt in the same element. Right?

They listened intently as Pride spoke about how their story was not yet finished- perhaps only beginning. The words enthralled them, twitching their tail. They nodded as Pride described each point, ears perking. They shivered unnoticeably as Pride noted that the disaster of Tunnel N was not yet over. The weasel considered Pride's question when he asked. There was a lot that Pride didn't know. They'd never talked about Li, or their grandparent, Imperia. That time when they'd clung so hopelessly to the emotions of others to mask their own, even when it plunged them further and further into despair. And moreover, there was even further before that, when, freshly emerged, they had struggled to move, speak, and even breathe- the terrible nausea that had almost ended them. They'd ate once, which they'd lost soon after- and from then on their existence was inescapably entwined with their magic. They remembered being angry, and crying a lot- before they knew what it meant to be strong and to act. They didn't know if they wanted Pride to know much of that.

They shook their head. It was all so embarrassing.

"I... don't know if I wanna talk about that," Envy said carefully. "I was..." there was a long pause. "...weak back then. I was stronger when I met you. The me I was before we met is a whole different weasel, as far as I'm concerned."

And yet... the thought of their mother began to form a weight in their belly. Why?

Speech. Thought.

@Pride

Pride listened, tilting his head, thinking.

"...No, I don't think I do," he answered thoughtfully. "But magicka has always answered to me fairly strongly, and I think my ability to weave and to shape it has always been strong. I can start off with simple things, perhaps--glowing balls of differently-colored light, or something along those lines?--and move from there."

All at once, in the consideration of their prior life, Envy seemed to grow distinctly uncomfortable. Pride tilted his head a little, again--this time in surprise--at this. Envy had never seemed to show their insecurity, much--oh, they'd admit to it now and again, but mostly they hid it in bravado. They rarely, if ever, flat-out admitted that they couldn't cope with something.

"...I won't push you to talk about it, if you don't want to," Pride responded quietly, though his curiosity gnawed at him already. "Though... your words about strength, and weakness... I would point out that no hero starts off a hero, in their story. Everything that happens to them shapes who they become. But that isn't anyone else's business, anyone's but your own, unless you choose to tell it."

@Envy

Envy rattled their quills in consideration, weighing their options. Either way, it seemed, Pride was determined, and the little thing nervously worried that they wouldn't be able to stop him if he decided to figure out light magic anyway. In which case, Envy considered... Perhaps they could turn things their way anyway. After a few moments of silence, the weasel appeared to perk up.

"Yes, yes! Perhaps!" they said, with a small nod, as though placated. The small creature considered how to turn things their way, to show their skill and proficiency with the spell that they'd learned so long ago. This could be the perfect opportunity to show Pride just how far they'd come and what they could do! "That'll work!"

The deer's words were comforting then, and their pricked quills relaxed slightly against their back. And yet for some reason, they also left them conflicted. The little creature's heart quickened as they shuffled their paws and curled tighter. little claws tapped against the tiniest fragment of Pride's stone. They held it just a little closer to their chest, and polished one of its smooth surfaces with a soft paw pad. "I'll..." they paused for a while. "...Think about it." the weasel said finally. "But if I tell you... promise you won't tell the Kingdom?"

They quickly moved on, changing the subject. When they spoke again, their voice was deceptively cheerful, as though they'd completely forgotten the dark tone of only moments ago.

"Now, how about I teach you how to make illusions?" They took the opportunity to bounce off of Pride's head, flitting above him on familiar ethereal wings, Pride's gem still clasped tightly to their chest. "How about we find somewhere more private?"

The little weasel fluttered some distance ahead, alighting on top of a pillar just outside the throne room as they impatiently awaited Pride.

-Exit Envy-

Speech. Thought.

Pride blinked.

Pride, itself, could be an insidious thing--lurking, ever-ready to rise up and swallow one down with arrogance, should it not be tempered with humility. Pride took--well, pride in himself, in his efforts and his achievements, but his ego did not often grow swollen with it, nor did he greedily hoard to himself the fruits of his labor. Instead, he found a pleasurable satisfaction in sharing them with others, in bettering others' situations--it made him feel better than would gloating over them.

Perhaps it was still not a wholly selfless thing--or even primarily selfless--but it was not unkind.

Envy's decisions, then, sometimes baffled him. Envy was proud of their achievements, yes, but in an arrogant, fearful way, clutching them close as if afraid to lose that edge that they held above the others. Afraid to be less than others. Afraid to not be special.

Pride felt, in that moment, as Envy tried to get him to "promise not to tell," that perhaps he understood Envy more than he ever had before. Empathize with them, no; but understand--and be a little disgusted by?--yes.

Somewhat saddened, grimly so, he set his mind on the task of figuring out how to break his king out of this mentality--even as he sighed, picking up the pace to chase after them.

exit Pride

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Pride

Livius

Pride

Livius

Pride

Livius

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