ORIGIN

" We'll see creation come u n d o n e;
These bones that bound us will be gone... "
Emptiness, oh how it filled him... void of some emotion, but what emotion exactly? He had a family, the Bonebound. Such a group had grown so close, but recently The Bone King had begun to get a little lax... a little silent. Far too quiet for him to be comfortable. Azazel felt melancholy, perhaps a little poetic in his sadness. What could he be missing? What emotion would put the pieces of his broken heart back together once more? It could not be a yearning for battle, for he had sworn against it and felt no urge to shed the blood of another. No... he would no longer have sanguine upon his talons. The scars that still yet crossed his skin beneath a fresh layer of feathers were not worn with pride. He did not feel proud of what he had done... the pain he had caused.

Fisher hadn't deserved what he got. Those battle scars, he could see them that day. He could see the fear in the mustelid's eyes. The poor Gembound had been just as terrified as he had. Fear was what started this turmoil, the terror. It was that asshole wolf who had blindly fought, forcing the battle to begin. Someday he would find that bastard and make him pay, perhaps learn what fear was. For now, Azazel would remain in his domain... amongst the bones that lay bare. There were definitely a few skeletons in his closet that he had to clear up, for that guilt truly weighed him down.

The Bone King had simply been resting atop his throne, perched on the precipice with little to do, little to think of. The void of his being was what he thought of. He had Krakarak, his favorite bird in the whole wide world... more than family to him. He was one of the few who really had stayed with him all his life. Giggle, the one he trusted with his life. Mau, his own daughter... perhaps. Everyone else, too. They were all important. But he sought forgiveness, not from his family but from someone else. From Fisher... Even past that, he hunted and yearned for something else. Love.

In truth, Azazel was jealous. How can one simply look into the eyes of another and see love in it. Not as a friend but as a mate, as a soulmate. He was jealous of what Makyna had, of what Leon had. Nobody had ever really loved the Ave except for Krakarak... but he was afraid to confess that love. Maybe he was in love with someone else, as well.

" We'll stir our spirits until we're one;
And softest s h a d o w we'll become. "

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Black trotted slowly along beside Fisher, eyes balefully alert, or so it would seem, to their surroundings. As Fisher's self-appointed guardian, he was ever watchful, sticking close by the scarred brownfriend's side and listening intently to his warnings and his commands. Or what Black interpreted as commands, at least.

When Fisher abruptly stumbled into a bone pile, Black turned, wrinkled brow furrowing with concern. He had barely had time to take a step forward to try and lift Fisher back up by his scruff when his friend had already scrambled back, bashing into his paws--whoops--and causing Black to quickly and apologetically step back again.

Licking his jowls he looked up, and around, trying to see what it was that had caused his friend distress.

"Very well," he rumbled quietly. "Is there enemy?"

Fisher seemed frightened, fluffed up like a static-infused wool sock, and Black stepped up and beside him--partly in front of him--in instinctive defense, looking around for danger.

But the question remained. Was Aza'zel enemy? Or had they come, instead, to greet an uncertain friend?

________________

" If I fall down on my knees;
wondering for what we c o u l d be. "
Still yet perched upon the rocky throne, Azazel surveyed his domain in silence, gaze unwavering. Blinking once, he slumped. He was tired... so very tired. It was as if he could fall alseep right now, but he didn't want to. If The Bone King would slumber, it would be atop The Chambers, within his nest of branches. Was it even standing, still? It had been so long since he slept in it. Azazel had fallen asleep in the most random of places. Once in the middle of Giggle's bone pile ( much to her chagrin ) and another time hidden in a pile of bone chunks he had been eating with one halfway lodged into his throat. He had awakened and about choked on it.

A clamour arose, and the Ave tensed a little. Carmine eyes snapped down to gaze upon a pile of bones that had been overturned. Azazel could see amongst the ivory remnants of the dead... and what he saw had been something he dreaded seeing once again. Scars of his work, fear of his doing. "Fisher..." he breathed silently. The mustelid was puffed up and looked like a ball of fluff, and a strange wrinkly dog stood slightly before him, perhaps a protector. Nobody should have need for a protector. Ruffling rufous feathers, Azazel spread his dark wings and slowly glided down, closer to the duo of Gembound. It was now or never that he apologized.

Talons clicked against the cold stone, and he shivered apprehensively. Tremors racked his icon, and Azazel looked away for just a moment, only to hang it quietly. "Fisher..." he croaked, "I... I'm sorry." Drawing himself closer, he tried to look at the mustelid in the eyes, seeing those vibrant amber orbs. That only made The Bone King more upset, and he looked back down at the noodle's paws. "I don't want to fight you anymore... It isn't worth it. What was it even worth when it all began?" He wanted to start anew... turn over a new page. Would Fisher accept that offer? Could they possibly be friends?

" If I could try a little h a r d e r;
I could succeed, oh, oh;
I'd rather give up and be happy. "

" Take me down to the riverbend;
Take me down to the f i g h t i n g end... "
The Bone King had seen that small spark of shock in the mustelid, surprise at how they had not broken into a violent clash of tooth and claw. No thunderstorms would rage today, Azazel would hope. The chocolate-colored Gembound moved forth from underneath the dog, approaching with a remorseful gaze. Quietly, the vulture turned his skull to the ground once again, scared of the notion of meeting his gaze. Surely both were such mighty fighter, yet they were falling in shambles before one another.

Sighing, Azazel shook his head, hopping forth with a small CLICK! CLICK! of talons against granite. That bone... that was how it all started, was it? Oh, those memories were so vivid. The two had been so young, innocently stupid. Azazel was still quite a little ball of fluff then, but yes, he had still yet to grow out of his obsession with bones. He was older now... smarter and more intelligent. Casting a sidelong glare to the bones, he finally spoke. "That bone... it was never mine to begin with. It was another Gembound's... one that had died in it's chrysalis. I was selfish and stupid to fight you over it." That was what he had been at the time.

Just a selfish overgrown bird.

Drooping his eyelids, the Ave barely heard the fisher's question. When he did, Azazel jumped a little, looking to his back quietly. "My back has scars on it... but it was charred and burnt. It took a while for my feathers to grow back. I didn't know what I was doing... and I just kept going and going until my body was so weak." It had been his mistake to keep going... Subconciously, he approached yet closer until he about touched him, gently nuzzling his forehead with his beak. When The Bone King realized what he was doing, he stumbled backwards. "I'm sorry..."

" Wash the poison from off my skin;
show me how to be w h o l e again. "

" I'm waiting at the station;
watching a m i l l i o n faces walking nowhere fast. "
Azazel could truly feel the awkwardness rising in the air, almost choking him. Looking off to the side, he blushed a little... even if it was not that obvious beneath all of those feathers. Croaking out his quiet reply, he looked back at Fisher. "Yeah... kids." The Bone King truly wanted a friend out of Fisher... or at least someone to trust a little bit. He didn't have to entrust his life to Azazel, that was fine. The Ave felt as if the air had been knocked out of him, and that his lungs were severely malfunctioning. Definitely.

Hopping backwards, Azazel hid his face for just a moment in his wing. Why did he do that? He had spent so long trying to analyze the fact that he had just straight-up nuzzled one who used to be his mortal enemy, that he forgot the mustelid was still there. Hearing his question, ivory crown shot up from the hiding place that was his wing. Tucking it back at his side, he shyly hunched his back, "I never told you? Wow, I am a jerk." He knew the fisher cat's name was... well, Fisher since the beginning, but only because the little noodle had screamed it out loud. "I don't really go by the name of The Bone King, but people choose to call me that," he shook his head and continued, "My real name is Azazel Vita... but just Azazel or Aza is alright."

He was hardly ready for the playful pounce that Fisher aimed at him, and the bird flapped his great wings a few times as he pondered what just happened. "Wha-?" The realization struck Azazel like one of the mustelid's lightning bolts, and the bird gave a loud caw, raising his wings. "Ah, you little son of a noodle!" Skittering across the floor as fast as he could toward the mustelid, he gave a joyous cry, flapping his wings to bat at the fisher.

It was as if they had always been friends.

" I'm saving all my time;
For the one shot to get this right;
For the one love, for y o u. "