ORIGIN

After speaking to the Selenite, there was one more thing left on Vargas' immediate plate. He'd been intending to speak to Draconua, if the thing could be even reasoned with. He'd seen her come and go, sometimes licking oil from carcasses strewn along the floor (gross); he hadn't really tried to engage with her. So far she'd left his people alone, and they had let her be.

The alternative was the destruction of half of Draco, after all.

He had debated how to best approach her. He was wary; if she turned on him it could wind up with another fight. Vargas, then, had to be careful not to outright provoke her. But he didn't know how hair-trigger she really was; and he also had to balance that with his authority. If he began to be cowed by her presence, too cautious with her, she might turn on him regardless.

He had, in the end, given up and decided to approach her matter-of-factly, as was his wont: like an equal. He would leave it to her to decide how to react to that, and he himself would, undoubtedly, learn from the experience. And hopefully, he thought, grimly, this experience will not crack the Creator's Spire in half.
The Leviathan wound his way sleekly among the stuttered outcrops of jagged, torn earth that led to the space where Draconua had hatched. She seemed to spend time there, and he picked his way down in the hopes of finding her in her usual spot. "Draconua?" he called out, pausing on what he judged to be the threshold. Not intruding, but waiting, patient. "Are you there?"

It might help that she would enjoy this task, he reflected--a potential silver lining. He had the feeling that once he laid out what he wanted, the 'Sleepless Chaos' would leap for it in a heartbeat.

Are those eyes..? he found himself wondering, as the behemoth slithered from her black den up into the corrupted air above. They were little holes, yet they seemed to seethe with watchful, wary savagery--not careful, but waiting, waiting for a split-second failure on Vargas' part to unleash. Any excuse, he thought.

Vargas grinned, as best the monstrous and rigid lips face allowed.

"GOOD," he boomed, enthusiasm behind it, for now he was picturing her rage unleashed on Ursa. And those knotted scars, twisting across her hide--her own doing? He hoped, for her sake, that she had better control over her power now. "If you require training to control your magic, I will find someone. Meanwhile. The intruder in this nest yet lingers. I am gathering a team to hunt it down, to destroy it wherever it can be found. One of the strays of this generation--a fungal user, like Master Astraea, trained by him, I think, is out searching for others who might be useful. I will be sending one of my own beasts, and I want it trained before it goes. I was wondering if you would be interested in, oh," and here one massive forearm raised, gesturing with waving fingers in an overly-casual manner, "destruction, chaotic fire, obliteration, hunting, fighting, killing... Any of this of interest to you?"

There had been no niceties, no polite 'how are you doing' or even her name. He doubted she'd care for such things, anyway. He was offering her a chance to unleash herself. He did not doubt that she would take it.

The question was, would she remain controlled? Or would that rampage extend to the 'Gembound,' to the rest of the caves; would she attempt to obliterate it all?

"It will be in Ursa," he responded--and then studied her, for a moment. Okay, so she'd trained herself. Cool, whatever, that was less work for him to do, and it meant he had another reliable soldier. Assuming, that was, that she wasn't overestimating her own abilities.

"But. You do not, or do you-? have the ability to sense fungus. So unless you destroy the entirety of the cave, its mountains, and everything beneath and ensure nothing escapes, it might simply leak out. That's your decision, of course--if you go that route, completely destroy all tunnel exits first, dig your way out after and pray the other Masters do not actually need the snow cave for anything after it's destroyed." He didn't actually care if she did this, but--"Just don't take too long if you do that, or we--the rest of us--will be blocked from protecting the rest of the nest. Alternatively I will grant you some of my spawn, and you will help to train them, and then lead them into battle. Give them the taste of the Creator's chaos, if you wish--V-Chaos-One will be good for that. The long, black serpent-creature," Vargas explained. 'Corrupt it, if you will,' was what he meant; but to Vargas it was hardly corruption, was it?

Assuming Draconua didn't interrupt him (and there was little he could do if she did), Vargas went on.

"You may go alone, then--or you may lead a group of them skilled in whatever form of destruction you choose to teach them. They are still mine, and not to be harmed unnecessarily--and 'necessary' or not is by my definition--but you might lead a small chaos army of your own, one that can sniff out and obliterate this corruption before it spreads," (and that was corruption, to Vargas--this crystallization of Order and stagnation) "and prove your worth as a true warbringer. I have others coming--hopefully within this cycle. Those that can find the fungus at a distance. That is what I came to ask of you--to see if such leadership interests you. You would be useful in that way. Perhaps the Lord would take notice; perhaps the Creator would grant you leave for further decimation, elsewhere."

Vargas imagined that He would.

He listened, and was pleased with her willingness, at least. She would burn it all. "Good!" And her apparent ability to think--nothing detailed as yet, and he wasn't truly sure if a sharper mind lingered beneath. But she was thinking ahead. "A young stag, similar to Astraea's current form." He paused. Was this Draconua's first birth? He was unsure; had she known Astraea in the past? Never mind--"It calls itself Tahi-shei. We will see how useful it is," he added, indifferently.

As for Chaos-One--Vargas turned, peering about, imbuing sight with magic. He didn't spot the thing--nowhere near--and after a moment he grunted.

"V-CHAOS-ONE," he boomed, and then, with a sour glance at Draconua, "it does not tend to listen well. Do with it as you see fit, though I prefer seeing it put to use rather than slain," he added. "Its design is good, but it is a fool." Then he was turning pacing with swift and liquid strides for a cave wall. He didn't spot it right away--and it didn't answer. Vargas paused, and turned to the other Valkhound."I will look for it. You may come with me or I will send it to you--bring it to you--when I find it."

The question--half-unexpected, yet it shouldn't have been--gave him pause. And for a moment, his brain had to struggle to piece together a quick answer: a definition of a stag.

"Small things," he began quickly, without thinking--oops, that was probably an insult to Astraea--"but magically powerful." A pause--did that fix it? And was it accurate-? He thought so. Then, everything was small, compared to Vargas--and now Draconua, who most certainly wasn't small beside him; no, these creatures of new generations, new designs, were practically miniscule compared to them. "Stags are brown, or white. They have four spindly legs that end in hooves, and spines growing like trees from their heads. They seem to be prey animals, and adapted mostly for speed," he explained.

He didn't know why Astraea was one, now. He'd been half-asleep when first he'd seen the Master's new form and hadn't thought to question it much, particularly after Nemean's mockery had made it clear that he didn't wish to discuss it. He didn't know where the design had come from. But the Creator hadn't remade him again, so it couldn't be serious, right?

"In any case, I've met only three and all three were of admirable power. Though they resemble the cave deer, they show far more usefulness than that. CHAOS-ONE-!" he boomed again, picking up a little speed as he went.

At length he found it, his senses at last picking up a flickering heartbeat hiding along a crevice in one wall--jammed in like a snake, as was its habit. He strode up to where it hid and stared up at it. "Chaos-One! This is Draconua. The Sleepless Chaos." Whatever that means. "You will be joining her in hunting down and assaulting bearers of Mother in Ursa later on. I want you stronger, before then," he added. Chaotic infusion should help that, at least; it might even be true what Esther had said about the Creator's magic helping to fight the fungus back. Vargas wasn't sure, but it was worth doing regardless, in his mind.

"Do what she says and you'll be rewarded, you'll get something to hunt, to kill." The two were alike enough, it seemed, in that regard; both Chaos-One and Draconua merely wished to destroy. Why, this serpent had seemed downright miserable with nothing to do, even when given its own chance to find something: perhaps it was best left in her hands.