Oh, don't worry little noodle. Even later-cycle Gembound were trash fires and with molotov cocktails for personalities. Healthy coping mechanisms are few and far.

For a while, that seemed to be the norm for the Vita lineage. Father Aza'zel, as great as he often was hailed to be, never wore his heart on his sleeve. His happiness had been feigned for a long time, self-doubt sewn into his flesh and blood and constantly itching and surfacing. Ashtoreth was on the money about that. Yet, the old King had only wanted to love and love and love; he gave everything he had until there was nothing left but his own deprecating thoughts and a helpful set of claws attached to his son.

But, Aure wouldn't know. He didn't know any of the baggage that came with the noodle presently blowing a great gust into his face and mussing up his feathers. ("Hey!") Crimson eyes glinted mischievously, and he laughed. Spreading out his wings, he hopped a fair distance away and focused in on his magic. From the spot where he stood, wings spread, a multitude of fake-Aures sprouted. Each one took to the air and hovered, materializing in a show of light from another fake copy and seemingly solidifying into perfect imitations. The wyvern immediately felt the strain of the casting, but he held fast. It'd be worth it to be a show-off and see if Ashtoreth could figure out which one was the real him.

Well, the reaction he got was most certainly the intended one. In awe, astounded, in wonder. And astonishedly using his prior statement against him. Ashtoreth batted at numerous copies like she would swat away a swarm of flies. Each copy she 'destroyed' vanished in dramatic ways. Often into a swarm of butterflies. Why not? Why not be dramatic? Vanquished by her many foes, however, the noodle flopped onto her back.

The real Aure remained hovering higher above as he loosened his grip on magic, shaking his head - shaking off the strain of it and preparing to take a heavy nap later. His talons clicked as he landed, laughing and flopping back down onto his stomach. In classic sploot position next to Ash, he demurred, "I meant the song! Magic's a completely different thing, Ashtoreth. Your dad made a whole thing just for you. I'm just using what comes natural to all of us in - yeah, a lot of different ways."

He seemed to melt on the spot. "That was the first time that's actually worked, though." Congrats, that was the debut of an Aure original. Light-cloning!

Aure blinked at the most delicate of boops, a friendly gesture he hadn't been prepared for so soon. He glanced down at himself, quickly trying to determine what the next best course of action would be. Crimson eyes flickered from his claws to his peets, then up to his blunt wing-claws. Chirping, he shifted a wing to give a return-boop. Revenge! But of a friendly sort, of course!

"Haha, thanks," the wyvern chirped from his pancaked-self, sighing. Perhaps, they could teach each other magic - he most certainly seemed to have more to learn about his father's natural element. Yet, "I'm a little tired after that, though. Might need to take a second for a breather, eh?" Clearly, Ashtoreth did too, panting silently through vocal cords that seemed to just not work.

His chest swelling rapidly with his breaths, Aure rolled onto his back. Crimson eyes fixated on the fungi clusters on Polaris's ceiling, marveling at their constant glow and stunning beauty. The conversation lulled, and he wanted to press - for some particular reason, he wanted it to be the source of his need for magic practice. Completely unaware of what he was doing, he murmured to Ash, "my father was a King - Aza'zel, if you've heard of him. He ruled over the skies and the bones. I want to - be a protector, a guardian like him."

Aure hadn't expected any sort of response from his companion, only giving a soft sigh and letting his gaze trail back up to the multicolored ceiling. It was beautiful. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to make a map - so he didn't get lost in the colors and wonder.

His ears pricked, head tilting slightly as the noodle reflected his speech. It was nothing out of the ordinary, until Ashtoreth repeated - in a different voice. The sounds of uh-zah-zuhl was distinct, even in a deeper tone and calling across a cave. He could almost hear the trademark echo of Canis's low roof and many bones. Her voice - well, was it really hers? It felt nostalgic, warm, like the fatherly voice he'd always imagined the old King to have - pressed, calling to the purpose of the Bonebound, words that were not his, but his stone's. Old man Aza'zel was dead, and had been, but he lived on through the bones, through Ashtoreth's mimicry.

The thought of it was enough to nearly bring him to choke - a knot had formed mysteriously in the back of his throat, and he had to roll onto his side to stifle it. His beak bumped against the noodle's little paw as he did so. Crimson eyes searched in Ashtoreth's own, raising a wing and draping it over her. Aure scooted closer and chanced a soft nuzzle. "I guess that makes - makes us siblings," he choked out softly, ears moving backwards.

It suddenly hit him that she well and truly didn't know of the old man's fate, of his wicked end.

"I'm sorry," Aure cooed, lowering his head and tucking his chin against his fluffy mane, tear-tracks already forming down his cheeks. He sniffed, "he's - sleeping now. I'm - the new Bone King." Unsure of how to proceed, he hesitated. The wyvern's feathers puffed up and smoothed down, tail thumping once against the ground. "Do you - want to see him?"

Ashtoreth - didn't particularly get the double-meaning of his words. Let sleeping birds lie, bones picked clean of flesh by microbial life and the mud, wings stripped, worn, and returned. Aure didn't want to be the one to explain to his own sister that their brother had unwittingly assisted in allowing their old man the final push he felt he'd needed. Eythan, rather cruelly, had been a means to an end. An end that Aza'zel thought he needed to get to. One that he welcomed and left only his bones and stone.

Aure sniffed, ears flickering back once or twice as the noodle recovered, booped him, and stood.

Breather forgotten, the wyvern rolled onto his feet, talons scuffling as he regained his footing. "We'll have to go through - Tunnel N," he chirped, swallowing down his tears in lieu of grimacing - he hoped the mess the Bloodberries had left was long-gone, or at least not quite so stinking-to-the-high-heavens. Just as he went to take off, Aure flicked his ears and looked at Ashtoreth. Magic working, he established a feeble mental link to hers - pointedly blocking off his melting pot of emotions and only faintly paying attention to the little star's indecision.

"Here - I'm listening," he began, then transitioned to thought, you can think things at me, if that's easier? I promise that I'm not - looking at anything else in here. Aure started to trot forwards, regardless. He didn't want to push Ash if she really didn't want to go through with this.