ORIGIN

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The trees stood silent, dark and impossibly tall, stretching like eerie fingers to vanish into the mists above. Gnarled roots twisted over and into the black wet below, a water too murky to see though, one which had the potential to hide any predator.

And hide one it did. Something dark slipped by beneath the trees, a shadow in among shadows, leaving barely a ripple over the surface of the swamp. The light from a distant hanging orb reflected only for an instant over black reptilian scales, and then whatever it was was gone, moving on into a deeper area filled with standing marsh grass.

Nothing else stirred, here, bar a single dragonfly perched on the bent root of a single tree, close to where it slipped into the water. It fanned its diaphanous wings once, twice, oblivious to the danger that lurked below. For a time, all was utterly still and quiet in the dark, bar the buzz now and again as the resting insect vibrated its wings.

And then, suddenly, the black water erupted in a spray as a dark fanged shape launched itself upward, maw open and gaping toward the dragonfly. Jaws snapped shut, and the predator fell backwards, splashing back into the swamp before bobbing back up again. For a moment, the tiny baby alligator--barely over a foot long--sat with the twitching wing still protruding from one side of his jaw. Then, with a quick snap and a gulp, he swallowed it. He opened his mouth as if to roar.

"I--AM--DRAGON!" he squeaked triumphantly.

Clearly, here was a fearsome beast indeed.

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He wanted to become like Aquarian. He thought he was the same thing, and he was fairly sure they were both something that his strange memories said was called "dragon."

What were these memories, anyway? How did he know what words were, and how to say them? He wasn't sure. What he did know was that Aquarian had sworn he'd belong to whoever brought him food. Dragon would definitely be the one to do it. He just wasn't sure what, yet. He'd been hungry himself, so he ate the first dragonfly. But the next?

Dragon submerged himself again and began to slowly slip among the waterways of The Groves, his eyes sometimes above the waterline, sometimes below. He looked like a dark stick in black water, barely visible, perhaps a branch fallen from the tall trees above.

Ahead he spotted something different: a small frog, squatting squarely on a root, just above the waterline. Dragon watched it, for a time, motionless beneath it in the black.

Will Aquarian want this? Would he eat--whatever this is? Frog?

He shrugged internally, then settled himself in for the stalk and the ambush. He couldn't approach from behind--there was a tree there. So he tried to lurk up from beneath, and again simply leap out from below to catch the frog in his jaws.

He managed to snag it on his teeth, but barely--it scrambled to escape and he found himself having to scramble right after it, clawed feet scratching over the root. It went into the water on the other side and he went with it, finally managing to snap it up in his jaws. He crunched down, the concepts of pity or remorse not even entering his mind. Only triumph. The dead frog in his jaws, and ignoring the hungry rumble in his stomach, the little alligator turned to carry his prize and his offering back to Aquarian's marsh.

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The black water swirled around his feet. His "offering pile" now consisted of exactly one dead, chewed frog. And despite how hungry Dragon was, he hadn't even eaten any! He'd piled the dead frog into a clump of tangled marsh grass a bit out of the way, in the hopes that nobody else would stumble across them and eat them.

The baby alligator eyed the black marsh. Nothing was happening, yet--good. He wanted a good meal ready. At least three of these frogs should do, he thought. He turned, scurrying back off toward the grove. He could hear crickets, and after some trying, he managed to snap up one or two of these, and eat them. Then he heard something else rustling ahead, something somewhat larger. There was a chittering sound, something gnawing and softly chuffing, something tiny. Something warm.

Dragon lifted his head slightly above the water, turning it to and fro in almost slow-motion, like an anaconda peering about. Eventually he came to realize that it was echoing over the water from a small, grey-brown thing with a long, pale tail, something that was eating grass seeds from the water's edge. Slowly, very slowly, he submerged; and then thought about it.

This thing had teeth. He could see them. And he felt... vicious. Violent. He was a predator. A dragon.

He slipped up slowly, tail barely sweeping to and fro, no ripple visible. This time, instead of a lunge, he slowly, slowly emerged jaws-first from the water, like a buoyant piece of wood bobbing up. And then, he just... stopped. He wasn't ambushing, this time, oh no--he was trying, from a few feet away, to call upon his magic. To imagine being a dragon, welling fire out from his maw, immolating his helpless prey as it cowered before him!

The rat paused in its nibbling, peering out at the stick. Perhaps it was something edible, in the water?

Now!

Bloodthirst and thrill gripping him, the little alligator called his fire magic forth. Deep within him, something bloomed, and for a split second the rat saw a sparkle like hot coals glimmering in what looked like a piece of dark wood in the water. An instant later, a burst of superheated air engulfed it, and it fell thrashing and squeaking into the marsh.

The magic swiftly cut off, Dragon lunging forward and snapping jaws shut with a *clack* around the hapless creature. He shook it violently, and an instant after the attack began, it was over.

Time to add to the pile.

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There was a dead, partly-seared rat and an even deader, battered frog stacked in the marshes, now. Dragon himself, however, was nowhere to be seen. Instead he was off in the Groves yet again, lurking, hunting.

The big-dragon will be mine!

He was excited, now. Surely it was just one or two more little bodies to stack onto the pile, and then he'd have enough? He lurked, searching for his next victim. This time, though, something stopped him dead, his tail surging to one side to rudder him to a stop. The water ahead flicked and roiled.

There's something else in here... he thought to himself. His mind had only an instant to decide whether to be afraid, or to be hungry, but he was an alligator, and 'hungry' immediately won out. I'm going to kill it! he decided.

He slowly submerged, eyes blinking shut as he entered the water completely, and reopening beneath. He could see something ahead--a small, vague shape flipping to and fro, barely a shadow in the black water. HE WAS GOING TO EAT IT! Or well, no, Aquarian would--but HE WAS GOING TO KILL IT!

He rushed forward, wiggling to and fro in the water, darting through the liquid like a bird through air. Jaws opened and closed, and he felt something thrashing between his teeth. He bit down, shaking his head, lost in the rush of the glorious kill.

Then, he popped slowly up out of the water, and to shore. The thing had stopped moving, and he laid it in the grass to see what he'd killed.

It was a fish. A wonderful fish! A beautiful, silvery, battered and blood-speckled fish! He would add it to the pile at once. Aquarian would surely be pleased!

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The succulent offering pile of dragon food now consisted of a small dead frog, a small dead rat, and a small dead fish.

I am a powerful hunter! I am a dragon! Dragon thought, and as if to prove it, as he paddled furiously back into the Groves, he let out a little squeak. He had meant it to be a roar, and he was entirely unaware that it wasn't one; in his mind it was a deep, ominous bass rumble that rolled out over the swamp, silencing the birds and frightening off the other Gembound.

Now, the big guardian dragon would soon have a fine offering, but what about him? All he'd had to eat in awhile was a dragonfly! He had to keep up his strength so he could keep gathering trade-gifts for Aquarian's service.

He swam for awhile without seeing a thing: no mice, no rats, no frogs to snap up, no dragonflies neatly perched in snatching distance. He swam for quite some time, a dark shape floating slowly through black water, only faint parts of his head and back visible. Eventually, he spotted a thing ahead--something larger than the other things, and crouching, rather miserably, up against the water. It seemed injured, maybe, or ill. Dragon slowly slipped closer, submerging. The thing was far, far larger than the other prey animals--at least twice as big! A worthy prey, at last, for the Dragon! It was grey-brown like the rat, and had fur like it, too. It had long ears, and no tail that he could see.

He'd have to be very careful, this time. Not a blast of air, or a lunge--but both, at once! It might bite back, after all!

He slipped closer, and closer, feeling the heat bubbling up through his throat--and then he launched himself up toward the weak, wounded rabbit with a fearsome roar.

"SQUEAK!"

Hot air spewed forth, and the rabbit--startled--turned to bolt. It let out a horrific squeal as the hot air singed its back, burning its legs and crippling it--and then it was limp-hopping swiftly off through the marsh, splashing loudly. Dragon's jaws clacked shut like a steel trap--on thin air. He fell back into the water with a crash and then blinked large golden-green eyes, peering into the grass.

Crap! It was getting away! He charged after the rabbit with a hiss, his own splashing almost drowning out the sound of the lapine's flight. Dragon lunged, and the rabbit turned, leaping right; he scrambled up and lunged again, and the wounded rabbit, slowed by previous injury and cold, exhausted and in pain, was too slow this time. Dragon's jaws clamped around its back, and for the first time he felt the faintest pity as the thing let out a horrible squeal. Then its back broke as he shook it--it was heavy, for him!--and it was dead.

He sat for a few moments with the bulky prey clamped in his teeth, catching his breath, waiting to be sure the rabbit was completely lifeless. Only when he had felt no breathing or movement for awhile did he begin to shake the limp body, tearing a few pieces of flesh off and consuming them in large, ragged chunks, pity already forgotten.

It had been small for a rabbit, but it was large prey for such a tiny alligator. Proud of himself, and soon sated, Dragon started the arduous task of dragging the remaining carcass back to the offering-pile for Aquarius.

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The "dragon" was tired. He crawled onto his offering pile, tamping it down to better hide it in the thick grass at the edge of the Heart of Cetus's black marsh. There was a half-eaten rabbit, a fish, a frog and a rat in this pile, and he was very, very proud of this. Now, it was time for him to find someplace safe to rest.

Tired. Sleepy.

Dragon turned, crawling in his alligator hatchling sort of way along the muddy bank and up into the reeds again. He lifted his head to peer over the reeds, to and fro, to get his bearings. Then he was pushing his way through the tall grass, squishing along in the shallow water, and picking his way toward the tallest tree he could find.

It took him awhile to reach the base of this tree, and by the time he did, he'd paused and nodded off twice on his journey before jerking awake and carrying on. This beast of a tree had super-twisted roots and, had Dragon looked closely, he would have noticed that they looked like writhing, screaming bodies.

He didn't look closely, though; he just crawled up out of the water, into the very faintly warmer embrace of the wood, and curled up, closing his eyes.

Even dragons have to sleep, after all.

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Dragon woke only slowly, cool and groggy from the lack of warmth in this place. He looked around. There were dangling orbs of light, here and there--maybe he could try to make his way to one, see if they were warm? Something told him, instinctively, that this might be the case.

He started down, scrambling down the tree root that had been his safe haven for the night, and then suddenly found himself halted by the sight of his own reflection perfectly mirrored in the still, dark water. All thoughts of light orbs were shoved from his mind at once as he eyed himself up and down.

Narrow baby snout, a couple of sharp white teeth showing but not many. Large, perfect (naturally) green eyes, flecked with bright gold. Or was it bright gold, flecked with emerald?! His scales were like little black armor plates, banded here and there with yellow, and his tiny talons were flawless little black points. Last of all, he noticed something he hadn't been aware of: one of those flat, broad scales on his belly was different from the others.

This was almost hexagonal in shape, and dull green, brown and yellow sorts of shades, spotted in black, like mud and moss and dirt all mixed up. He leaned down, briefly rubbing this on the tree branch before realizing that he couldn't feel it. It was like a claw--hard, and he could feel pressure through it, but tough and thick. He tried to turn one hand under to poke it with his claw, to see which was harder, but he just didn't bend that way.

He turned left, and turned right, eyeing himself closely.

I -am- a dragon, he decided.

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The little alligator felt no need to dwell over his image in the water for too long--he wasn't narcissistic, though it might seem that way at first. Rather, he was all very impressed with himself and glad to be a dragon, and proud that he looked so huge and fierce (he didn't). Now that that was done, he lowered himself down and slipped from the tree roots into the water, looking around to seek the nearest hanging light-orbs.

Most, he noticed at once, would be far too high for him. Some were even lost in the mists above, which only added to the shifting darkness far below, where he was. He snorted softly, dipping his head below the black water to blow a few bubbles in thought. Then he turned, slowly picking his way through the Groves' tree roots, aiming for the far cave wall. Perhaps if the ceiling lowered nearer to the walls, he could reach one there?

It took him quite some time, and was an epic little journey in and of itself for one so small. Time and again he found himself lost, and had to double back, confronted with tangles of thorns or impassable walls of roots. Once he'd found a tunnel of intertwined roots dipping down into the water, and he'd hoped that this would bring him clear of that tree. Instead he'd found himself trapped, and it took a bit of panicked thrashing and flailing for him to find his way back out in time to breathe and survive.

Finally he found himself clear of the water and the trees, and gazed up instead at what lay beyond.

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But his path was not clear.

Stinking fish-rot!
he thought to himself--the closest he yet knew to swearing.

Ahead jutted tall, craggy rocks that reached for the ceiling high above. Between them, trenches filled with dark water sat cold and ominous. Dragon growled, and his eyes blazed. He would climb this, and he would get to one of those Light balls hanging along the wall behind them! He could see even here that a few should be within reach. But what was the best way up?

Dragon sat for a moment, looking over the ridges, quickly picking out and committing to memory one or two vague routes that might prove useful. But he was young, yet, and though he was cunning he was impatient to get going. There were lights to see, after all! He couldn't quite remember why he had wanted to see them, but he did.

He turned and clambered around the first sharp-edged rock, hissing at it as it dug into his clawed feet. Up he scrambled, nearly careening over the top and down the other side, catching his balance at the last moment and peering to the rock beyond. He wasn't sure how to jump, or if jumping was an alligator--err, dragon--type of thing to do. But jump he did, crouching down and wiggling his back and tail like a cat before weakly leaping to the next ledge. He caught it, hauled himself up with a few worried squeaks, and then started to crawl lizard-like up the ridges.

It wasn't easy and it wasn't fast going; he slipped often, and found himself scaling near-vertical surfaces of cold, smooth stone. His scales helped somewhat, catching on small rough patches of the rock and giving him leverage to work with. Eventually, though, he made it high enough--to a ledge of craggy rock jutting almost horizontally out like a broad, massive spear-tip from the cave wall. He crawled out to the edge of this and looked down, surveying the black marsh extended before him down below.

The trees--they were there, and even here he could not see to their tops. Down below the water stretched away to the Heart of Cetus, unmoving and dark as a black mirror in the dim light. Reeds and long grasses wreathed the edges, motionless and seeming grey in the cave.

My kingdom,
Dragon thought triumphantly. It was perfect! All perfect.

At length he turned his attention back to the thing which he'd come for--an orb of light hanging against the cave wall, only slightly over his head. He crawled to it and stood on his hind legs, leaning up against the rock, stretching his snout up to touch the orb. He booped it, nosed it, sniffed it; it was smooth, blindingly bright at this proximity, and very definitely warm. With a croak of extreme satisfaction, the alligator turned and crawled back out to his little sharp-pointed ledge, sprawling beneath the orb to bask himself in a place where he could gaze down over his marsh.

Life was good.

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Dragon lay basking beneath the light-orb for hours, eyes scrunched up in utter bliss, his toothy mouth twisted up a bit into a grin. Over and over, the same type of thoughts ran through his head:

This is the best thing ever. Warmth is so good! Light is great! I feel warm! This is wonderful. I'm tired. I'm happy!

He slept, for awhile, dozing off and on, and woke rested, warm and refreshed. He felt energized, in fact, and made a mental note of this place so that he could return. It had a great view, and such warm light! Almost as nice and warm as his fire-breath! (which wasn't really fire at all.)

Dragon had that thought, and an instant epiphany of inspiration. Perhaps he could create such warmth for himself, anywhere! He looked around, thinking. First, he'd need a cooler stone.

Down he clambered, climbing the rock faces, shimmying down the rough slopes. It didn't take long for him to reach a shadowed ledge, dark and cool. This was pleasant in its own way, especially after the heat, but he had a theory to test and nothing could sway him from his thoughts.

He stared at the rock. How could he warm it? Breathing on it a lot? He considered, and nodded--then shook his head. No! He'd try to use that fire inside of him to warm it directly! That couldn't go wrong! Right?

He concentrated, bright eyes narrowing. He felt the heat well up within, spreading down his feet and--and--what was--

OW!

He squeaked loudly, pain an entirely new experience for him, and his magic, after a moment, fizzled out. He hissed fiercely, picking up his poor clawed feet one at a time to spare them the pain of standing.

But what was this? The rock--it was warm. Not only warm, but hot! He peered down, pain forgotten, awed at what he'd just accomplished. If he could repeat this in the future, he'd singe his feet, yes--but he could bask anywhere! He wouldn't have to stick close to light all the time. With a triumphant squeak, he flopped down on his belly and spread his legs out to either side, sparing them from carrying any weight while he basked in the heat HE HIMSELF had created!

I AM THE GREATEST!

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