welp the years start coming and they dont stop coming and they dont stop coming and-

Chaos-Two looked up at Khavur, and really looked. Teeth, horns, long claws and six powerful arms- almost as powerful as Vargas himself, maybe just as much or even more, if the other truly tried. Put past that... they could see an inquisitive soul, aching to learn and to know so much. They found it hard to do so, Chaos-Two knew. But that was alright. Khavur could be their legs, and Chaos-Two would be their teacher.

Maximum effort.

"I wish I had a title," they said, "Something... hm, not impressive. Perhaps... admirable? Admirable, yes. A title... or a name. Something nice. Like um... butterfly. But I don't want to steal the name of such a pretty little creature. I'll make my own."

They held Khavur's hand even as the butterfly flew off, to go eat and mate and make more butterflies and pollenate as many flowers as it could. Such an important job for a tiny little thing. They admired it, admired the determination that it seemed to hold despite not being a Greater Gembound with intelligence and knowledge. They held Khavur's hand and squeezed gently, in support and understanding, understanding that the two of them struggled and thrived in different ways, that they were different.

Being different isn't so bad, they thought, If we all thought and acted the same, no one would be able to be unique. No one would be able to be butterflies or trees or fish. We'd all just be... rocks.

When the other commented on their endurance, they just smiled, "I'm okay. This is resting, my legs feel better already."

And they were. The dull pain that always seemed to lingered was overshadowed by the moment they and Khavur shared.

Chaos-Two certainly did glow, and beamed as Khavur complimented them, chest puffing out happily. They squeezed Khavur's hand again and nodded, looking over the meadow. "Soon. I look forward to it," they said softly, his lashes brushing over their cheeks as they closed their eyes, unable to keep a smile off their face.

"There's a word I'm missing," they said softly, "An emotion I have but I can't name. I'm certain that if I search for it, I can truly tell you how much you mean to me."

Poetic, the calf was, speaking clearly and with words that just made sense. It had taken time and effort to learn to speak, having a harder time with his gem trying to stab his tongue every time it moved, but they'd done it. Like everything they did, their determination to succeed and pass all expectations proved nigh unstoppable. They'd yet to find a challenge that they couldn't somehow overcome. But they were not alone. They had Khavur, after all. Though they couldn't be there always, that lingering support despite the other's doubts was a support they used to lean on, to help them keep going.

A title? A name? Something not impressive, but admirable. Khavur wished it too -- it was hard to think of someone you... someone that... it was hard to think of someone like the little sibling without a real name to call them by. A name was a word for a person. 'The second chaos' and 'the little sibling' were no names. They weren't even titles, or statuses, or ranks. They were observations, and they only captured a small part of what the real creature was. "A name should be something you think means you." Did that make sense? "You are not a butterfly" 'yet,' "but you like them. And in your eyes, they are everything." So what did that mean? Khavur couldn't give them a name, not really. "You know who you are better than anyone else. You will find your name." Khavur considered. "For now... may I call you my... Teacher? My Eyes... the way I see things that are new?" There was so much more to it, but Khavur didn't have the word. The words.

To replace the butterfly that had been released, Khavur caught hold of the little sibling's hand. And then it was just them, sitting in a meadow, holding hands. Khavur had never felt so happy before. Or, maybe he had...? But had it really been him, in those past blips of happiness? 'MAYBE. but now, certainly.' This was Khavur-- except, it didn't feel complete. This was... a side of Khavur. That is why Khavur had a name. Khavur was more than this.

Apparently, this was how the little sibling rested. Khavur was happy to be a part of easing the pain. All the smiling and the joy they shared had a physical effect, the beast supposed. I mean, why wouldn't it? Happiness made the little sibling smile, and their smile made Khavur smile, and smiles were physical things. You could touch the muscles in the face that made them, the teeth that showed when they happened. Khavur didn't understand why you would want to, but, you could.

The mention of looking forward to being a butterfly, to being free among these caves with Khavur, made the beast feel everything the little sibling had told him that he was as if it were a finite truth. One head leaned over and nuzzled the top of the child's head, not minding the little horns starting to sprout up.

The little sibling was missing a word as well. That was interesting. Were they missing... the same one? Why were these words, or this one word, left out of their vocabulary? Khavur knew death. Khavur knew the hunt. Khavur knew a whole range of emotions, knew a few dozen nuances and flavors and toppings for them. And yet, the sweetest feeling of all somehow lacked a name. The sweetest creature Khavur had ever met somehow lacked a name. "The sweetest things are the hardest to speak of." The hardest to talk about, the hardest to name. And yet the most deserving. "Makes it difficult to talk about them when we want to. I will find the word that means how much you matter to me. You should look for the one that means how... that shows-- that means you" They could split the task. Then, when they got to be like this together again, they would have a way to speak about two more sweet things. Who knew how many more of them were out there, nameless-- Khavur was determined to focus on just these two.

Khavur would squeeze the hand in his, just a little. The most gentle usage of his strength. "Do you think we will be continuing forward soon?" Khavur didn't want to go, but sunsets and warmth and seasons didn't last forever. No matter how much you wished they could.

"I don't know what means me," they admitted softly, "You were given your name and made it into yours, and Nidhogg made his an act of defiance, and made it his. I don't want to be given my name or make it out of defiance. I just... want a name. Like... Hm."

Chaos-Two looked up at Khavur and smiled lopsidedly, "I like that. I like that a lot. 'My Eyes.'"

They looked down as Khavur held their hand, so large that it engulfed their own, and looked up, just in time to receive the nicest display of affection they'd ever experienced. They reached up with their free hand and held Khavur's head for a moment, nuzzling them right back, before letting them pull away again. The calf sat quietly, the feeling replaying in their head over and over, so lovely and nice that they couldn't help but try to hang onto that feeling of acceptance and belonging for as long as they could.

So they squeezed Khavur's hand, the word they were looking for still out there in the world, waiting to be found. For now, they'd hold their hand in the other's and look out across the meadow, watching the butterflies and knowing that soon, they'd join them out there.

Looking back up, they listened to them speak about the word, the one that escaped the both of them, that restricted them from saying what they really really wanted to.

"I will look," Chaos-Two said, "And I will tell you first, okay? Before anyone else. I will tell you my name and how I found it, and you can tell me the word that can explain how we feel, and how you found it."

Chaos-Two didn't answer Khavur's question about their return right away, wanting to smell and listen and see for a moment before they had to think about Vargas and the others again. "... Yeah," they said softly, "We've walked a long way, I wonder if we're close yet. I hope so."

They slowly stood up, still holding Khavur's hand, and peered up at them, standing on their hind legs. They smiled and turned to peer at the group in the distance, and sighed, knowing it would be a long walk back.

"I want to stay here," they said, almost sadly, and almost childishly, despite them being a child in every way. They had every right to act childishly, but they didn't. Immaturity didn't suit Chaos-Two. Not like it did Nidhogg or Zoisite.

The little sibling-- The Eyes professed how Khavur and Nidhogg had names, and yet they had none. 'the sweetest things are always the most deserving of names...' Khavur still stood by what he said, though. Only his Eyes could see for themself who they were, what kind of name meant them. And, by the way, his Eyes approved of the temporary name. Khavur smiled back, with two crowned heads. The joy was so abrupt and uplifting, it made him forget that his Eyes could not see how much his own name wasn't his. He had not bent it to his will, to his very being, like they had said. 'but maybe I should?'

"Then until we know better, you will be my Eyes."

And then there was the nuzzle. Khavur's heart, made for monstrosity, made for upholding and sustaining great chaos, suddenly felt like it might collapse. It throbbed with a purpose, sung with an unknown tune. Khavur knew for certain that this was indeed a side of joy. This was a side of joy Khavur-- agh, almost had it.

They sat there, Khavur feeling the slight and dull changes in pressure on his hand. His Eyes made them feel like tremors running deep, vibrations forming a chorus. Khavur rarely felt anything physically, and yet these emotions resonated so strongly they felt as real as warmth and pressure, as real as bugs and stones. There was a power in that, one that no magic could reproduce, not really. Not down to its core.

Repeat, repeat, repeat. 'I do not mind this memory. I like to repeat it.' Repeat, repeat, repeat!

Then came a promise. Not the first the beast had ever desired, not the first that had been made to it. The first to sit right on his heart, certain of fulfillment -- the first to be mutual, and born of brotherhood, in a meadow. "Yes. It is our promise, then."

Leaving felt imminent, daunting, and straight ahead, like entropy. It was not wrong to delay the inevitable, but some would call it foolish. And yet, for his Eyes, Khavur wished to try.

They stood. Khavur followed, still grasping their hand with all the gentleness he could store in his monstrous form. Both eyes concentrated on them, this one figure much smaller than Khavur, but growing. Always growing. "I want to stay here." So did he. "I know." Then, Khavur bowed a head to his Eyes' side. "Climb aboard. We can do one more thing before we go back, if you are willing." There was a playfulness in his tone, distinct because of its rarity. He would wait there, a false statue, until his Eyes made a choice.

Chaos-Two nodded gently, "I will be your Eyes."

A funny name for one who was half-blind. But it made sense. Khavur meant how they saw the world as a whole, how they appreciated it through eyes that couldn't see the beauty others did. How they looked past that and appreciated the smaller things, for many small things formed a large thing that was very very important.

And soon, they would be butterflies. They would see together.

"Our promise," he repeated, eyes crinkling as they smiled again, "I can't wait."

They slowly stood up and looked at Khavur, at the glowing spots of light on top of their heads, two beacons that were the big and beautiful heads of their sibling, their support. They couldn't appreciate them more in that moment, in all honestly. They were more caring than they let on, that was for sure.

"What are we doing?", they asked, making their way up Khavur's body, scaling them as carefully as possible before settling atop their back, looking all around.

Already, they were so high up! Higher than they themselves had ever been. They could see the meadow so much better, and was fascinated as they looked across the watercolor landscape, blurred and mashing together like someone had thrown paint onto a canvas and called it art.

With the Eyes upon his back, Khavur would pause for a moment and vacillate. Now that returning to the world of rules and confusion and Master Vargas felt as imminent as running into the open jaws, the gaping maws of wolves or one massive black hole, Khavur's overwhelming sense of freedom was beginning to fade. Back to being Khavur, who he-- it wasn't. Back to being an "it", an eldest monster. Just one tree among the many. Back to pondering his next move.

Something in him screamed at him to realize that he wasn't back yet. A player from the left field, a friend from out of the blue, racing back into his brain to remind him. Khavur was still a person, and he had one act of personhood left for a while.

So he began to use his personhood, his legs and lungs, to run.

He ran slowly and steadily, more of a jog. Tried to keep from jumping around too much, so that this wouldn't be a bumpy ride. He wanted his Eyes to feel the air. Feel it and be a part of it. A taste of wings, an emulation. The flowers regretted their immobility as the beast came down and trampled some, leaving a trail of beautiful destruction in his wake. He was too big and too full of something unnamed to care. He had to flower crowns atop his head and the day was beautiful and the wind was wonderful and he was running around in a circle and hoping that his Eyes was feeling what he was too! And that's just what he was doing!!! And it felt good!!!

Soon enough, the flowers and the grass got tired of bearing Khavur's weight. They pushed him back toward the world of security, where nobody trampled flowers because there weren't any around. Where there were no full butterflies, but soon there would be two in training. Khavur would tread back, now careful of the land on which he it stepped, to the carnival. To be one silly little clown in the parade.

One silly little clown with a mission, Eyes, and a heart. A heart it was now aware of, more than ever before.

Chaos-Two- no, Eyes squealed as Khavur started to lope, holding onto their sibling tightly, eyes wide. A grin spread across their face as giggles welled up, bubbling out of their mouth as they raised their arms, feeling the wind in their quills as they ran forward, petals streaming behind them.

"I'm like a butterfly, Khavur!!", they cried, arms out like wings, eyes scrunched up with happiness.

Their face split into a massive smile, mouth open as they laughed, head tilted back as they held on again, their fur ruffled and tai wiggling like a lamb's. They clung to Khavur, feeling their happiness through the contact, tossing their head as they hugged them tightly.

They didn't know when they'd be able to hug their sibling again, to nuzzle and sit in the fields just doing nothing, so they wanted it to last. When they met again, they'd be butterflies, they just knew it. There would be no pain, no fog in front of their eyes. They'd see through butterfly wings that were clear.

Chaos-Two closed their eyes and pressed into the other, holding on tightly. Just a few more seconds to savor this before they had to return to the flowerless lives they'd lived.