ORIGIN

Giggle sat alone, staring down at her bone pit. They waited, quiet; and she knew that among them lay the spirits of the dead. Lay an echo of her old friend, Aza'zel. They would guide her, she knew, but-... Something about the question itself had stopped her asking it.

The Hive. Its fungus. The one that called itself Mother; that the Masters decried; that turned its servants into husks. The bones had directed her to it, had said to listen to the fungus. And she always did--she always obeyed the bones. Yet-... She had intended to tell Aure of it all. To ask his opinion, first, his command as Bone King, but he'd sprang on her the knowledge of his upcoming child, and she'd failed in that. She couldn't have said it. Couldn't have said, "ah, that's nice you're having a kid there, son, but let me ask you about the mind-corrupting fungus I'd like to bring to Canis." She couldn't in good conscience ignore the bones; and she couldn't in good conscience ignore her King. Her son.

So now she sat, fidgeting, staring down. She wanted to ask them for further guidance; but they'd spoken clearly. Was she only second-guessing them..? Surely that came with risks. Surely that came with punishments--being so disrespectful.

Yet it troubled her, and she shook herself, sighed, and stood. Loped down to the bones. Picked one up in her jaws.

It was Aza'zel's keel she took from the bone pit, and his keel she carried to the top; and before she let it fall back in, she spoke, in her mind, to the spirits.

"Bones, I ask your guidance. Spirits of the departed, hear me, please. You spoke of the fungus. You said I should turn to it. And each time I intend to bring it up with my son, something stops it. Why? What do we gain by listening--I don't doubt you, but I want to see clearly. Help me see," she pleaded, and let the old Bone King's bone fall.

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The spirits whispers came to her dark. The bone, as it fell, left black patterns and coiled threats in its wake, and the hyena, her thoughts darting this way and that, tried to pick meaning from the patterns.

The first bounce. The way it flung back away. A misunderstanding with the spirits. A misunderstanding of their wisdom. Now, or before..?

And it bounced free, then: a splitting apart. A lack of harmony with others. A separation. But whose..? "Ours?" the old hyena asked, aloud--"The Bonebound's? Or mine?"

It came to rest quickly, motionless; no change in its position. And so it would remain; stagnant. And then, Giggle thought she understood. Brow furrowed, and she trotted down again, huffing to herself, plucking the same keel free.

Up she trotted, up her path, and set the bone, as she lowered herself to her haunches, between her two front paws. "Let me get this straight," she asked, bluntly, and had anyone been watching they'd have seen a fungus-ridden hyena talking to the bones; "We Gembound've misunderstood something. Probably all of us. Maybe just the Bonebound. And we're separate from... something. And that's how it'll stay, but this fungus would--what, help with that?"

This time, when she lobbed it down--hoping for a simple confirmation, or a correction--what she saw was something else. The bone turned, and spun, and a number of them fell into a neat pattern.

It spoke only of good things. Of karma. Of just rewards.

The fungus is the way to wholeness, it all seemed to promise, and Giggle, frowning, closed her eyes.

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Magic swelled and sparked around her. And her mind slipped away, flying, it seemed; speeding away from the bones, down into the bones, among the spirits and the future. A shuddering, splitting-into-many vision that she always found disconcerting.

The Bonebound, serving the fungus: lost to it, nothing but husks. The Bonebound, attacked, at war, allies flooding in, Mother giving them the edge they needed. Astraea, marching through, the Bonebound lying dead and burst around his hooves.

It faded, slowly, and her dark eyes opened. She knew what it was: many potential futures. And she'd seen nothing but darkness for them all, once before. She knew all things would end. That they would die and drown in darkness. It was difficult knowledge to live with, but here-... Perhaps here was some sort of solution.

She pondered, for a time, and then trotted back down, taking Aza'zel's keel up one last time. She trotted up. She set it down.

"Tell me one thing then, Aza'zel; bones. Should I tell Aure? Should I ask Aure? Or is this for me to do?"

And then she tossed it down, to clatter among the other bones.

The way it fell affected almost nothing. Nothing changed--it didn't matter; nothing would change, regardless of the path she chose.

The hyena grunted, and then sat staring down at her bones, alone in thought.

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Giggle heard the wingbeats, and peered up, quizzically; then she heard--or, rather, felt--Omen's shrill warning screaming along their mental link. The image of a dragon, massive and white, thudding through the air and coming her way.

The hyena scrambled up and scurried down the bone path, and was diving out of sight when it drew near enough to see her.

Its words stopped her, though, and she turned, peering warily back out, feeling her mouth dry and her heart thudding in her chest. She stared upward as the dragon landed, and thought, This thing has come to ask the bones-? She remembered the story of Raheerah, and she'd seen Dread in action, in battle; this was a dragon. Of that, there could be no doubt. But why was it here..?

It was Giggle's rule, though, never to turn anyone away from a reading of the bones. She was their conduit, nothing more; she didn't choose who would be allowed their wisdom, and who would not. And so she shook herself and emerged, tense, cautious, and called out a safe (she hoped) distance away.

"You're here to ask the bones a question-?" she called out, and waited.

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She took a moment to gently shush--and thank--Omen along her link. The bird was freaking the hell out, and Giggle found herself half grateful for the warning, half annoyed that Omen wouldn't stop screaming it. Mentally, of course. There were no real words in it, only images and concepts that Giggle's mind translated into words, but it would have been something like this:

It's fine. It's friendly, you can-
MOTHER-SISTER THERE IS A DRAGON! LARGE! PREDATOR! DANGEROUS! COMING! SEES YOU!
Omen, I know. Please calm down, it's here, it's talking.
DRAGON! BIG! COMING! BIG! SCARY! BIG!

It was a constant yammering at the back of her mind, so that as she answered the white creature, it was absently--still mentally soothing Omen, reassuring her of her (hopeful) safety.

"Bone, eh? I read the bones. My name is Giggle. I'm the Bone Reader." Oh, right-... flair. Almost as an afterthought, and in sharp contrast to her blunt, sardonic demeanor, out came a witch's magic-infused cackle: a sound that rolled and echoed creepily among the bones, to Giggle's deep amusement.

That was new. Though not unwelcome. Ahh, I'm so good, I surprise even myself, she thought idly, and at last the humor calmed Omen down enough that Giggle could think straight.

As the echoes faded, she cleared her throat and went on, daring to step out into the open, now. "The bones hold the spirits of the dead. The caves all around us are steeped in magic, dragon; the walls, the rock, the water, the fungus. Some see the future in rock or water but I see mine in bones. And sometimes fungus. But others come here for readings. For visions of the future. If you've questions, I can answer them--or, at least, the bones can. As for your brother, I don't know anything about him being attacked. Is it Dread?" she asked, naming the only other dragon that she knew of.

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She scoffed.

"Of course they can."

And then scoffed a second time, for good measure--and for emphasis.

"I can see your future in them, if you want. Or I can ask them what will happen, between your family and the Overseer. Oh, I know of that one; pushy, goes straight for violence." Giggle paused, and struggled to remember.

Ahh, yes; he was testing me. And the bones said he'd have nasty revelations, lose some small things close to him or almost lose big ones, wasn't it? And then have to start fresh. And it wouldn't be nice. I wonder if that ever came to pass..? "I shouldn't say violence, but threats of it. He holds some old authority, from the times before, from what I gather; he believes others must obey. It's a time that's passed, but one he may try to bring back," she explained, to the white dragon. And what of this creature, then-? Was it one of the old guard, too? But she didn't think so; there was an innocence to it, as it watched her with its pale eyes.

It was, Giggle thought--but she couldn't be sure--young. Even its crisscrossing scars looked fresh.

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