ORIGIN

Ever since Pride had heard about the dye and its magic, he had intended to make himself some markings. He wasn't in a rush--he didn't know the magic to settle it in place, regardless--but he had nothing to do right at the moment, and so he'd thought he'd change things up a little. Every day in recent memory had been spent in Eridanus and in Orion; why not head up to Fornax?

The only thing was... he'd rather forgotten how ill he felt. The transfer of Amazon's sickness had left him weak and unwell, nauseous. The climb up Tunnel M had been far more dangerous than he'd anticipated, and Mischief had fallen to scouting for him, racing up and down and leading him along the safer, easier paths. Or as easy as the craggy tunnel got, anyway.

Then, at the mouth of Fornax, he'd exhaustedly collapsed and slept for a time. He wasn't quite sure how long he'd need before he could tackle the path back down, but he had a feeling it would be a day or two at least.

Now, after the sleep, he'd pushed back up. At least Fornax was warm, and something about its rank odor and humidity seemed... conducive to good health, somehow. The stag picked his way to the water's edge, and peered down.

He didn't know much about the dyes. He knew that he wanted something pale, something shimmery--not unlike his diamond, perhaps--and the idea of pearl had struck him. He'd only seen the inside of the shells in Fornax once or twice, but now he began to pick his way along the rocky shore, pebbles clattering underfoot, as he looked for them.

Pride turned toward the call with surprise. He wasn't often in Fornax, and had hardly expected to find an acquaintance here--but here Aure was, nonetheless, and calling out to him.

He called back, his voice showing clearly--despite his weariness--that he was pleased to see him. "Ahh, Aure. It is good to see you--you are well, I hope? And I am quite all right. A little weakened by some rather special spellwork, but nothing too terrible. What brings you all the way out here?" he went on amiably.

Then the little ball of cold-burning gas was bobbing forward, plunging into the water--and Pride had a brief moment of confusion, of worry. Had that been his? Was it another of the Masked Merchant's strange, leading lights? But he realized quickly that it was Aure's doing, and he dipped his head with a kind expression as he quickly used the sputtering fire to try and pick out any pearl. He wasn't sure how long the fire would last underwater, but it seemed to be holding for the instant, remarkably enough.

He still saw nothing, though, in the shallows--only rocks, and a couple of open clamshells with no sign of a shimmer to them. "I myself am here looking for pearl. That sort that coats the inside of some shells," he explained.

Pride eyed the pearl, briefly.

"Ahh--not exactly, no. I need the shining lining on the interior of the shell--that one may have some, if you wish to keep the pearl itself?" He moved to sniff over the shell, wondering if it had any mother-of-pearl in it.

"As for the Bonebound--I never was quite clear on that. They're quite an old organization, yes? But I am not certain if you hold yourself to some purpose, or if you are simply--family, of a sort?" A curious tilt of his head followed. "Or if you have none, for now, what purpose do you intend to assign them?" His tone was politely interested; Pride followed it with a little laugh. "I admit, I fear I have not done much information-searching myself, lately. Things have been... rather chaotic."

Dark humor laced his tone, a bit self-deprecating.

"Ahh, and you had mentioned magical training, had you not? I apologize I had not gotten back to you yet, on that front--I could offer now, if you wish?"

Pride gave his head a little shake, gentle, somehow condescending kindness in his face. It was not patronizing, not exactly, but as if he himself were a god that stood above and beyond everything and had no need of simple, mere pearls.

...He probably didn't mean to come across that way.

"Keep the pearl, give it to whomever you please--just leave me the shell. At least the creature within is dead. I'd hate to kill that," he added.

A flick of his tail, and he nodded again--both at the magic, and at Aure's explanation of the Bonebound past and present. "Well, perhaps it may be wise to ask them what they would like to do," he suggested. "And I think Dragon has enough of a hunger for knowledge to cover that factor, in the caves. Hoarding knowledge is important, yes; but what will he do with it, I wonder? I suppose that is what you mean by saying, knowledge-seeking is not enough of a goal."

The stag nodded a little at the bouncing of the shell, again. "Tell me, have you ever tried to combine magic? I don't know the extent of your spell knowledge, but for example..."

The white stag glanced around. He winced--he was still quite sore and tired, and the movement hurt his neck, a little. His magicka, too, was a little weak as he called upon it--a nearby rock flickered, at first, with white fire. "Shield your eyes," Pride suggested, mildly. Then the flicker turned into a quiet whoomph, and a crackle as the rock became a miniature sun, all plasma-fire: blinding light and searing heat, though small and distant enough that it wasn't a threat to either of them. "Can you use your mind, now--for example--to hurl that at a target? --Say the sea, or--that boulder over there?" Pride suggested.

His tone hinted that he was confident in this task--and patient, quite interested and invested in it. He would, if it were any indication, be quite a good teacher.

Pride smiled, a little, as he watched. He paced--slowly, a little weakly--over to inspect the damage the plasma-stone had wrought, speaking politics (as Aure thought of it) all the while.

"Well, Dragon is right in saying the ancients' motives are unknown. And that we cannot trust what we do not know--whether that makes them truly untrustworthy remains to be seen, but if the Kings' claim is true, then he may have a point. We cannot defend ourselves against what we do not understand. I, too, seek knowledge--but of all sorts. Lessers, the Spire, magic..." Back to the topic at hand, then, it seemed. "If I have a strength, I suppose magic would be it--and I believe that was rather a good hit," he added, turning to Aure with amusement.

"Speaking of wisps: there is a spell similar, do you know it? To fling a wisp. It is not too unlike calling up this white fire, and throwing it. It is far less harmful, yes... but similar."

Pride turned, again looking to the boulder, and concentrated.

"Call up another of your own, if yours died in the water-?" He didn't dare glance over to see--not while concentrating on his own magic. "If it is still there--I am still weak, I fear--try to use a similar concept. Shape your magicka around that wisp and fling it, as you did my fire."