ORIGIN

Pain and darkness. For a long while that's all the dragon knew. Everyone once in a while he would climb out of the black pits of his unconsciousness only to feel the horrific pain in his head and side. That alone would make him fall once more into a death-like sleep just to get away from it. In his painful dreams he saw different things. Flafe passed before him, laughing and prancing about as she enticed him to come play. He could not though, he felt weighted down and no matter how hard he tried he could not catch up to her. Wait! He would cry but she did not and soon she was nothing more than a white dot in the distance. Saddened he crouched to the ground and began to cry. It was then that the three-headed dog, Kerberos, came to him. He was slobbering and barking and insisted that Baratheon was food. The dragon pleaded with the dog that he was not food but unlike their first encounter he was not strong enough to fend him off and the white canine was upon him. He screamed and sobbed, begging the other to stop as he felt his skin and flesh being eaten and stripped away. The worst pain was in his head and his side while beneath his fur he felt sore from the dog clambering all over him in his excitement of the kill. No matter how much he begged it didn't stop and the pain just kept going.

"NOOOOO!!" A roar sounded, echoing throughout all of Monoceros as the furred dragon finally clambered from the realms of dreams. His eyes opened and in his pink haze of vision he saw the remnants of the fight though everyone had fled. they must have thought him dead... How was he not did? Didn't he get thrown and beaten up by the rhino and other larger dragon? Perhaps he should be dead... The dragon had been there, threatening everyone and all he had done was attack the rhino. That seemed stupid now but what was he supposed to do? Sit still and take those hits from the rhino? Unlikely, he wasn't to be pushed around by anyone.

With a sigh the dragon attempted to lift himself up but he couldn't. The world began to swim and the ground felt like it was heaving beneath his paws. Sickened --possibly due to the faintness he felt or due to his first use of Pulsar-- he retched before falling back to the ground, exhausted. He lay stretched out on his side, eyes staring straight ahead until he closed them. He could probably just lie here and die but he wouldn't allow himself to do that no matter how awful he felt. There were things he still needed to do and people, or person, that he needed to take care of. No matter how bad he felt, he wouldn't give up, he'd keep going if it hurt. He just needed to rest. It was then that he fell back into a deep slumber, his tired body trying to heal his wounds.

---

Go, go, go! The word raced through his mind like a heartbeat - and Booker's own was out of control, tap ta-tap tapping as it tripped over itself. The numbat couldn't recall just how long he'd been running, leaping over cracks in the ground, rushing through overheated tunnel walls in a desperate bid to escape the smoke and flames that had engulfed his home. His home. Images of his bed, his light friends, burning into nothingness flitted in and out of his vision like specters. A distant scream made his terror surge. Shaking his head, the tiny Gembound stumbled to a halt, laying down in a shivering heap to try and slow his racing heart.

Everything he'd ever known, every sprig of moss, every hand-polished crystal, every hand-grown mushroom, was gone. The thought caught him off guard, and Booker covered his working eye with a paw, scrubbing at it to ward off any tears. Not safe yet. Keep going. The numbat shook his head, getting up to stand shakily, returning to a steady trot. He hadn't had time to grab anything but his prized shiny, the monocle from Orion, which was wrapped securely around his waist, glass piece dangling from his neck. He hadn't even had time to say goodbye - oh, no. Khloros. And just like that, he was having the second panic attack of his life, vision going spotty and room tilting.

With a dazed groan, he sat down hard on his haunches, shivering. He's fine. Faster than me. He's fine. The mantra was repeated to the point that he began whispering it aloud, the sound carried away by the rushing wind of Monoceros. A few minutes later, and he felt awake enough to take stock. Right. Safe now. No fire. Booker peered down at his body, wincing at the burns racing up his tail and back legs, where he'd taken the brunt of the fire's power. It had snuck up on him, curling through his hideaway's door like a tongue, lashing out before he'd had time to do anything but flee. Burns. May scar. Not dead. A sigh. Not dead.

The young Gembound raised his monocle to his working eye, righting it and peering around where he'd ended up in his mad dash. The place was new to him, the wind violent but almost soothing, after the low, thunderous roll and bright crackling of the flames. And there was someone, collapsed, in the room with him. At first, it didn't appear that they were even breathing, but as Booker's vision focused, he let out a tiny, pained gasp, scurrying over to the lump with an aching heart. "Brother!" The shout was dulled by Monoceros' wind, and the numbat darted around Baratheon, peering at each of his wounds and getting more and more nauseated with each. "No, no, no!"

The puddle of sick on the floor was not encouraging, and Booker stepped around it with a grimace, finally reaching the dragon's snout with a relieved sigh. He was absolutely still alive, judging by the puffs of hot air issuing from his nostrils, and Book relaxed a bit, scooting closer to lay down in front of his brother, keeping an eye on him while trying to keep pressure off of his own wounds. Worry kept him wide awake. If someone as big and strong as Baratheon is this hurt... He shook his head, refusing to think that his equine charge was downed - or worse. I'd know if Khlor was hurt. Just like Bara would know if I was.

Steadily he breathed, though inside of his head the dreams were hardly rejuvenating. He grunted, muscles twitching as he was this time assaulted by the larger black dragon. It turned his eyes on him and its maw opened as it prepared to unleash liquid magma all over Baratheon's body. The white dragon couldn't move, his legs failed him. His eyes were wide open, staring, as he looked death right in the face. He was fearful. He didn't want to die. He was too young, he wanted to live. Tears started to flow down his face as he waited for the sting of death... but it never came. As the dark dragon opened his maw to engulf him in magma the lizard all of a sudden vanished.

He had been saved... but by what? It wasn't anything that appeared in his dream but it was a feeling. A scent that comforted him and promised friendship. Booker... More tears flowed at the happy feelings he felt.

In the waking world his eyes were wet with actual tears. Baratheon realized this when he opened them. The next thing he realized was that his tiny brother was right there in front of his face. The numbat didn't know how happy the dragon was to see him at that moment. He was a sight for sore eyes, sore body, and sore mind. He said nothing at first, he simply tilted his head up and opened his mouth to snake his blue tongue out to give his brother a friendly lick.

"Book... Boo-ker..." His voice was rough from disuse. How long had he been passed out here? "I'm so... glad to see you..." He smiled despite his headache and the soreness. It was then that he noticed his little friend was injured as well. Burns welled over his tiny body. How? Who would do this? A growl rumbled in his throat as he bared his teeth. "Who... who did that to you?" Whoever did it... He would kill them. He'd hunt them down, injuries or no, and kill them! No one should hurt Baratheon. He was too tiny, too kind, to have to suffer so.

---

Booker had shut his eye to try and reign in his panic, but it popped wide open at the feel of his brother's tongue on his face, a reassuring greeting if there ever was one. The numbat beamed, whiskers twitching in relief. "Bara! You're awake!" He frowned at his brother's rough voice, but didn't yet scold him for talking - there would be plenty of time for doctoring later, when they weren't in the middle of a strange place that howled with bursts of wind. The frown lessened at his brother's smile, and Book hopped closer, patting a paw on the dragon's snout as if to reassure himself that Baratheon was, indeed, there.

The question made him pause, and the tiny Gembound's head tilted to one side. The motion made his back twinge, and Booker let out a soft "oh!" and gave his friend a shaky shrug. "It was scary, Baratheon! I was sleepin' in my room, and all of a sudden there was a big roar, and then everything was - was -" the numbat's breath had sped up uncontrollably as he relived the moments leading up to his escape, and he took a moment to peer at his brother, the dragon anchoring him in the here-and-now.

"Everything was on fire," he finished, throat clicking as he swallowed. "And I - I had to leave, but my friend, I found him when he was a baby, he was still there! I-I don't know what happened to him," he admitted, voice heavy with shame and eye misting up, guilt churning in his stomach. "I ran for a long time. Then I found you!" That announcement brought the numbat's head up to gaze at Baratheon with a tiny, relieved smile. "So everything's gonna be okay, now, 'cause we got each other!" Booker nodded to himself, wiping away an errant tear.

Still, he had to ask - "What happened to you, Bara? Who hurt you?" No matter how small he knew he was, his friends would help him - even if it was to hurt whoever had harmed his brother. They would understand... after all, even fungi understood how things like family and loyalty worked. If they're still alive, I'll hunt them down myself, he thought, gaze stuck on his brother's wounds.

No one hurts my brother.

Baratheon focused on Booker's words intently, trying to make his mind focus. A big roar? Polaris? Baratheon had been to Polaris and Booker lived there. Minus the golems it was relatively safe, especially to a small creature such as him. He always felt safe leaving the numbat there but now... Where would it be safe for the little gembound? Nowhere. If he was alone then he was in danger. Baratheon had to acknowledge that. He didn't want to smother the little one but he couldn't just toss that fact out of the window.

The numbat's rapid breathing brought Baratheon to the present. His eyes softened as he gently nudged the numbat to reassure him. The poor thing was traumatized. Fire, eh? That sounded a lot like the deadly thing had been here. So, after he'd finished his killing spree here he'd gone to Polaris to terrorize his brother? The growl rumbled louder in his throat as he realized the hopelessness of the situation. That huge thing... It was impossible to fight. Baratheon could throw himself at it for ages but he knew it would do nothing. It had snatched up that huge rhino so easily and tossed him away like trash. "I know who did it... The one... The one who did this to me..." He clenched his eyes together, fighting against the migraine that swelled up more at the thought of the huge creature. "Chaos..." He moaned painfully.

"It was another dragon... Huge... Dark... Killed the rhino... Knocked me out..." His eyes opened. The rhino? Where was it? Through his red haze he only realized that the other dragon had snatched it away. Had it been eaten? Probably. Nothing he could do about it now. He peered closely at Booker. "In Polaris now? We have to... have to help your friend." He didn't know Booker's friend but any friend of his brother's was a friend of his. It hurt him to move but he would push himself if need be. "That dragon is... a murderer..." He rasped.

He moved then, rolling from his side onto his belly. That was easy enough, he was sore but he could ignore it. He gritted his teeth then as he tried to rise, pain laced his muscles and the headache came on tenfold. The ground heaved as the room began to spin again. Baratheon collapsed to the ground then, eyes squeezed shut as he fought another wave of nausea. After it passed he wheezed out. "But I'll kill him..." No one put him in such a state and hurt his brother. He wanted that black demon put in the earth. And he wanted to do it himself.

---

The numbat snuggled gratefully into the dragon's nudge, dull pain from his burns fading by the second. It had been far too long since he'd seen hide or hair of Baratheon, and his mere presence was beginning to calm Booker down from the adrenaline high he'd maintained during his escape. The tiny Gembound jerked back at his brother's growl, peering at him anxiously. "C-Chaos...?" A groan punctuated the howling wind, and Book huffed, patting his brother's nose. "You shouldn't be talkin', Bara," he warned, tone stern but wavering. Another dragon? Dangerous, not like Bara. A killer, he wondered. Something that vicious... it's no wonder it set everything on fire. Probably wanted to add to its body count.

With a frustrated huff, Book shook his head. "Not yet, brother. You're too hurt to go anywhere, and I won't leave you here to look for Khlor. 's too risky," he murmured, the sound cut off by Baratheon's attempts to stand, to move. "Hey, hey, hey! Stay do-" Booker squeaked in fright when the dragon collapsed onto his side, hurrying to Baratheon's snout and patting tiny paws over his face, trying to get a glimpse at his pupils. Exhaustion, possible nausea and vertigo. Not good... but not dead.

Book sighed at his companion's words, offering him a strained smile. "You're not gonna kill anyone in this state, mister. We gotta get you healed up, first, and then we can work on making sure Khloros is alright." He grinned, though it highlighted the exhaustion lining his face. "You'll like 'im! He's kinda quiet, but he's real nice, like you. And he has friends like me, except they live inside him instead of on the walls and underground," Booker explained. "I found 'im when he hatched, and I brought him back to Polaris with... me."

A soft groan, and the numbat collapsed back onto his haunches, scratching at his ruined eye guiltily. "If I'd never found him, he wouldn't have been any-where near Polaris... it's my fault if he's hurt." This was a statement, tone low and empty. Book raised his head to peer at his brother. "If this... Chaos? If Chaos hurt him, I'll help you kill him." Determination hardened his gaze, but the numbat shook it off, hurrying to check on the dragon's multitude of wounds. "But first we gotta heal you up. I had to leave too fast to grab any supplies, but there should be... something here," he offered uncertainly, peering around the empty cavern anxiously.

For a moment, Booker cursed that Baratheon knew him so well. His brother had hit the proverbial nail on the head - what if Khloros needed them right now, and they were here, resting while he was suffering... or worse? Again, the numbat took stock of their situation: in a strange location, with no familiar markers to get back to Polaris, no supplies to aid in either of their recoveries, and no idea how to help his brother. With a frustrated grunt, Booker tried to relax against the dragon's snout, the gentle nudge breaking him out of his thoughts.

Not your fault. The words felt like absolution, and the tiny Gembound let them loop in his mind, replacing images of the fire and the destruction left behind. He huffed back at his brother's chuckle, raising his undamaged eyebrow. "I could do it! Or, well, I could help my light friends help you," he offered sheepishly, reminded once again of his diminutive size. At the shake of Baratheon's head, he scooted back a bit, peering up to meet the dragon's gaze. "If you're sure... but if you're still dizzy in a few hours I'm gonna try n' find something," he said with a stern nod.

"I'll rest when you do," he promised, itchy already at the thought of closing his eyes for even a moment. Sleeping sounded like a great way to have another panic attack, right about now. At Baratheon's words, Booker tilted his head to one side, curiosity sparking in his eye. "What, Bara? Y'know you can tell me anythin', right? We're brothers," the numbat added, tone light and innocently confused. He grinned, chirping shortly, reaching up to tap the dragon's chin. "'m just glad you're okay," Booker confessed. "I got real scared when the fire came. Didn't know where you were."

The thought of his own brother, the first being he'd met in his life, his closest friend, being in such great danger that he'd suffered wounds to the extent he had, made the numbat's gut clench in fear. He almost wanted to ask not to go back to Polaris to stay, only to find Khloros and leave - maybe, if he asked nicely, Baratheon would just let him tag along. After all, he couldn't be that heavy to carry, right?

Book had picked up his tail, offput by the tenseness of his brother, and wrung it in his front paws, worry building at the mistiness of Baratheon's eyes. He nodded with a relieved grin at the offer of sticking together, gut churning a bit less. "Yeah! It'll be like when I was real little," he exclaimed happily, the smile receding at his brother's serious gaze. Book blinked at the burst of hot air as the dragon let out a sigh, and he tensed, trying to predict what could be so awful that it would make someone as strong as Baratheon so nervous.

Whatever he could've predicted wouldn't have come close to reality. A disease? The more the numbat heard, the wider his working eye became - not out of fear of his brother, no, but fear for him. Booker gripped his tail tight at the mere mention of his best friend thinking of himself as anything close to what had caused the wounds on both their hides, the destruction of his home, the fire of Polaris. "You are not a monster, Bara!" His voice, though thick with held back tears, was stern and honest. The young Gembound winced at the crack in Baratheon's voice, frozen in indecision, before making a run for the dragon's leg, not stopping until he reached the end of the dragon's snout, peering down into one of his misty pink eyes.

"You wouldn't hurt me," he said slowly, voice gentle, nodding to himself. "And even if you did, it wouldn't be your fault. You're blamin' yourself for somethin' you can't control, brother." Booker frowned, patting one of the dragon's horns. "I'm not leavin' you, no matter what. Even if this... disease. Even if it takes hold of you when I'm around, and I got hurt? It would not be your fault." The words were earnest and fast paced, trying to get Baratheon to see just how clear it was - to Booker, at least.

"When I was little," he said after a pause, glancing from Baratheon to the ground far below. "I couldn't move, or talk, or do nothin' without help. You've always had the power to hurt me." Book turned back to the dragon, smiling. "But you never have." The wonder in his voice was strong, lightening the tone. "And you never. Will. This... bloodlust. It's a part of you, just like the mush-rooms are a part of me." He leaned down over the edge of the dragon's snout, whiskers twitching. "You said yourself, you've tried to control it. You don't want to do what it makes you do, not really."

"I'll help you." The offer was made genuinely, and Book straightened up, nodding to himself again as he surveyed Monoceros from his perch. "We'll find something to help control it, no matter how long it takes." He turned, peering down into a pink eye once more. "I'm your brother, Baratheon. The only thing that could make me leave would be if you asked me to."