Since birth, Magdalena had groomed the red hybrid for perfection. Greatness. Strength and power and everything in between. Ever since Louie had seduced her with the idea of a creature built upon both of their vigor combined, she had dreamed of crafting one so undefeatable that she would see the rest of them cower. It would be her ultimate weapon. Her greatest success. They would see it and their knees would quake, and they would fall to the ground, and she would turn them all to ash. Baratheon. Booker. Rafael. Diamondfang. Fleur. Louie. Delphine. They would all know that it was her. She relished that daydream. She hungered for it.

Every day she came and went from the makeshift den on the ledges. She had her own duties, food to catch, bacteria to hunt for, and Nemesis; as well as Hestia, distantly. Such a vivid difference there was between how she felt towards Hestia and how she regarded her weapon. She could almost fool herself into thinking that she loved her Knight's child, who was slowly growing, slowly becoming even larger than Nemesis herself, and yet remained placid and kind. Such an angel had never done any wrong and Magdalena felt compelled to protect her. But the weapon, they had to be primed. She knew that all young creatures were filled with hopes and dreams. Such that she preserved them in Hestia.

She shattered them in Odyssey.

It had to be that way. It had to be molded. It had to be taught. Broken down and built back up from the very beginning. Magdalena had already taught it all she could from birth, yet as was the nature of many curious minds, it wondered. It had found itself a pet that it loved, but not as much as she, and Magdalena had more than once threatened to destroy Othello should Odyssey misbehave. She nearly considered doing it without provocation, but had refrained. She needed to beat loyalty into it. Not fear. Not disdain.

Her paws had dragged her back up to that ledge where she knew Odyssey would be waiting. Illiad was sent off to some other duty, that was for the better; Magdalena didn't have time to pander to the blind one and his pathetic needs, though she knew that Odyssey would reach out to him regardless. She didn't have time for that distraction, nor that anger she knew would bubble up inside her for what failures were caused by such camaraderie. Odyssey had to be alone. One day, it would be. Magdalena would take that final step for it. She reached the den, walking into the alcove where she could feel Odyssey waiting.

And where she could hear Odyssey shuffle, likely sitting up at attention, Magdalena ignored it. She continued to walk, coming to a halt at the far end of the den, where the trail would continue to wind along the wall. "Come, child." She whispered, long nose still pointed forward at the path ahead. "We practice on ground today." With that, she strode, expecting the patter of obedient paw steps behind.

Ever since Illiad had been sent away on whatever task or distraction Mother had given him, Odyssey was left restless and bored on the ledge. It was around this time every day that Mother had sent him away, stating that Odyssey couldn't afford the distraction while learning. Odyssey understood... kind of; Mother had made it very clear how important their education was, so Odyssey didn't want to be distracted. They wanted to be able to learn everything and excel if only to please Mother. But why couldn't Illiad stay and watch? Why couldn't Illiad practice with them? Is it because he couldn't see? That couldn't be the issue, considering Mother couldn't see either. Try as Odyssey did to dredge up a reason from Mother, she refused, insisting that Illiad was a distraction. But what Mother didn't know was that even in Illiad's absence, they could reach out to him. They could feel their brother's heartbeat, see what they were seeing, feel what they were feeling, where ever he was away from Odyssey. It was distraction enough.

But Odyssey was stronger than that. They could still push it out, when they felt they really needed to focus. Or when Mother was being boring, they sometimes called out to Illiad to see what he was doing. It didn't detract from their learning. But doing so made Odyssey feel guilty, for it was directly disobeying Mother's commands, so they tried not to. In his absence, Odyssey was left laying on their side on the ledge, their back against the wall. The cold sensation of the stiff rock felt soothing, but Odyssey didn't spend long on their side. Soon they would turn and lay on their stomach, or begin to paw at their ears and sometimes catch the peridot horns sprouting from their skull. They would rise and peer over the edge or stare down the path, hoping to catch sight of her.

It was while Odyssey was humming did they suddenly hear the shuffle of paws on nearby rock. Their voice cut off, leaving the song they were singing suspended and incomplete, while they waited for the footfalls to come to fruition. And there, their Mother appeared in all her pallid and resplendent beauty, and Odyssey gave them a bright smile though she couldn't see. And she didn't. She had moved into the alcove, and Odyssey parted their lips in preparation of a greeting, only for her to walk right past them. Odyssey's voice then faltered, and their gaze followed Mother until she had reached the opposite side. Then she instructed them to follow. "B-Why-" Odyssey barely managed to utter before she explained, they would practice on ground today.

That was new. But Odyssey wouldn't complain. Their chartreuse eyes brightened and Odyssey quickly moved after her, following her Mother as she navigated the winding trails. They expected her to trip or stumble over the rocks, but somehow she didn't, and they marveled at how well they knew the paths. So unlike Illiad, who was prone to falling over anything that got in his way. The hybrid remained closed to Mother's backside, cautiously peeking their head out from behind. "Why are we going to the ground?" They asked, only to be given a gentle "Hush." and Odyssey sealed their lips, left to wonder in silence.

Magdalena hadn't the patience to explain to Odyssey why they were going to the ground, and nor could she spare the focus. She had to pay attention to where she was walking, lest she found find a stray pebble and stumble, or trip over an edge she had not expected to be there. Her steps were careful and calculated, sometimes slow, as she reached forward and prodded for the ground before making a full step. If she found something in the way of her paw, she would gently guide it away, or if there was no ground beneath her, she would probe until she found somewhere adequate to step. She bore a resemblance to a blind man feeling with his cane, only that it was with her paws, and her nose had lifted to the air to monitor the smells constantly shifting in the stale air.

They wove along the trails carved into the wall until they had taken them to the ground. The wind always felt stronger here, pulling at the long, soft, curly fur that sprouted from her body. She knew that they weren't near enough to the twister for it to pose a problem; in fact, she'd rather they stayed near the wall that hosted the platforms rather than venture towards the heart of the room. Magdalena adjusted her body and they followed the wall until it took them near the far end of the cavern, furthest from the tunnel that would lead outward to Orion. Upon reaching their destination, she faced the twister - she felt the wind - and then she reclined to her haunches. No glance was sent to the child; instead, she closed her eyes and focused.

Reaching out, she could find those familiar swellings of life all around. There were swaths of bacteria that grew in clusters near the ground, great reaching smears of it that thrived close to the earth where the rock sometimes turned to dust or harbored pools of water. There were isolated collections of bacteria above them, some of them moving further while others moved closer, pacing, lingering, sleeping; the bodies of their groupmates. Even beyond she could feel bacteria swelling and growing. It was all around them. She opened her blind eyes. "Tell me where they are. Where you feel them." Magdalena instructed.

Odyssey closely trailed their Mother as they wove along the trails; while Magdalena's steps were cautious and timed, Odyssey's were somewhat careless, their eyes flickering all around the room as they walked. It felt like every time they looked they could see some new feature in the room they had never noticed before, but they were beginning to hone their curious gaze in to spotting differences or the unfamiliar. When they met a new Gembound, they tried to drink in as much as they could, to know as much as they could. A practice learned by this realization, this constant discovery of features in the place they had called their home. Mother said that if they didn't know everything about a Gembound from their appearance, they may as well be blind as well, but Odyssey thought such a claim was outrageous. Magdalena couldn't see, so how could she say such a thing?

Then again, Magdalena was far more honed in other sensations. Hearing, feeling. She probably knew more about a Gembound than they knew about themselves just by the way she could hear them walk or feel the vibrations through the ground, or how they smelled, information that would tell her where they had come from and who they had been with. And the bacteria...

When they made their way to the far wall, Odyssey cautiously surveyed the rest of the room and the twisting tornado ahead, feeling the wind. They faced their Mother, who had scolded them for sitting during training before. Odyssey had to be able to divide their attention between their sensations like Magdalena could, even with the gift of sight. She said that would make it harder, but mastering it would make them stronger all the same. Her instructions were clear, and Odyssey nodded, closing their eyes and reaching out.

They tentatively padded around the room in search of that bacterial sensation, frisking the wall, the floor, their Mother ahead of them, and then they found themselves drawn to the swirling vortex. Always moving, churning, dancing behind them, who knew what kinds of treasures it carried - they wondered if this was a trick question, if their Mother had wished them to locate what spun just out of their reach. They allowed the roving winds to carry them, lifting high upon their gentle nudging, scanning every inch of the tornado. Only they quickly found themselves losing track of where in the tornado they had searched. The ground, its thin, churning arm, its great swirling mass, it all very quickly began to blend in with each other. The bacteria they felt was spinning, spinning, ever turning, ever melding and separating, becoming one and becoming two and becoming more.

Their mind was a vicious vortex all its own, the feelings beginning to permeate into their mind, confusion and dizziness and nausea all the same, until the constant whirlpool of bacteria they felt had overwhelmed them. The feeling was a rush of vertigo that hit them full force, causing Odyssey to peel their eyes open and gasp, staggering forward as they braced themselves in an attempt to remain standing while their breathing labored, and their stomach -

Odyssey convulsed, spitting the contents of their stomach onto the floor at Magdalena's paws, only to reel back and stare at their Mother with eyes wide and afraid.

The borzoi found patience as she waited for her child to begin. She had reclined on the ground and as she felt him reach out, she too closed her eyes, though her nose pointed at him expectantly. She waited, probing the silence for the answer she sought. It was simple, so simple, she hadn't thought it to be any more than just a survey of the room. It was one spell, detection, knowing where to look, identification. She had honed this skill so long ago it felt like second nature to her now, like she didn't even need to concentrate on the spell to know what to look for. It was just the feeling, the tugging that formed an intangible map in three dimensional space, and each culture pulled at her with a different strength, from a different direction, in a different way. It was so easy.

And they failed her still.

It was the gasp that they heard first, and Magdalena slowly opened her eyes though it made no difference to what she perceived. That gasp bled into a few ragged, caught breaths, before she heard the child retch in front of her and the smell almost instantly saturated the air. Acidic, foul, old and partially digested. Magdalena couldn't help the expression that wormed onto her lips, her visage creasing into an angry scowl, her lips tugging down in great disapproval, resisting the urge to distance herself from her child's disgusting refuse. Her ears had compressed against her head instead, and if she could see, those pale eyes of hers would have flashed with fury. Instead, they were empty, the emotion expressed in the subtle twitches of her fine crafted face.

"Clean yourself up," She finally spoke, her voice having fallen to a dangerous whisper, reverberating with restrained anger. "and try again." She would not tolerate such weakness. She would see her child succeed, or she would see them die trying.

They didn't know what kind of wrath to expect from their Mother, but they knew it would be wrath all the same. They stared at her hard, holding their breath, though it burned their tongue - the taste of vomit was hot and putrid, causing them to visibly recoil and find themselves relieved at least that Mother couldn't see how pathetic Odyssey looked, struggling against the sensation that still ravaged their stomach. But it was dying down, smothered by the fear clawing at their heart, and the same that was steadily coming to join it. They watched her open her eyes and fix them, unseeing, on them. They watched her facial expression slowly transform, no, decay - anger was falling into the creases of her visage, causing Odyssey to shrink further and further into themselves, until the poison came as her furied words.

It could have been worse. She could have raised her voice and yelled, she could have lunged for them and struck them, but this - Odyssey still felt this was as bad as all those things. They could hear the frustration deep in her melodic chords, tearing apart the sturdy foundations of her composure, slowly undoing all of her carefully crafted methods. It was their fault. They sealed their lips, swallowed, nodded. "Y-Yes." Odyssey whispered, trembling, and adjusted. "Sorry." They fumbled, stepping back and cleaning the remains of bile from their muzzle, paws, where ever else it had stained them, and then turning to retrieve a relatively flat rock from nearby. With considerable effort, they managed to scrape the still steaming bile away from Mother and into a far corner.

They would have wanted to take their time, stepping carefully, taking extra precaution to ensure that the area was clean or that their vomit was tucked away out of sight, out of mind. But they knew that Mother would become impatient. They stretched it as thin as they could before returning to her and bowing their head. "I'm ready to try again." Odyssey spoke, louder this time, lifting their gaze to Magdalena's.

They felt the magic brewing, and for a split second they encountered fear again that they would find themselves sucked into the vicious churning of the twister. But that fear was smothered, knowing fully well to avoid its grasp. Once they had gotten a handle on their simmering magic, they closed their eyes and probed for the bacteria just as Magdalena had instructed them to. "I feel it... in the air... above us. There are some in the ceiling. Slowly moving, I can feel them pulled by the twister-" Odyssey's voice quickly cut, trying to keep themselves from getting sucked into the pull of the vortex. "All along the walls, in the dens, where the Merrymen live. I feel... I think it's Othello... near the gorge. There's one, two, close to us, near the wall..." Odyssey went on, relaying every culture they could detect as it became apparent to them. It was easier now without the persuasion of the twister, though it threatened to pull them in.

Once they had delivered all they could, Odyssey opened their eyes, hungrily searching for approval in their Mother's face.

Magdalena nodded slowly as her child began to slowly deliver a play by of what they were experiencing. At the same time, Magdalena sent out her own silent, invisible fronds, feeling for the clusters of bacteria she knew were lurking among the rock. She had come to know them well by now, and she would recognize them for what they were; growths of bacteria idle in their existence, unintended, gentle presences that lay beyond acknowledgment by anybody else. Or they might be Gembounds all their own. Perhaps another life wandering aimlessly in the canyons, perhaps another intruder making their way into the threshold of her control. Or somebody she knew. Someone she may strive to protect. If ever there was an endeavor of the nature.

Their mention of Othello had piqued Magdalena's curiosity, and though she had a general idea of the direction of the gorge, she didn't bother to turn her head towards it - she could feel the push and pull of the bacterial cultures, and she had yet to familiarize herself with Othello's. To search for him would be a waste of her time. But perhaps she could turn this into an exercise for the benefit of her child. "Describe what Othello feels like." She prompted, half-lidded straw eyes staring just past the hybrid.

When their eyes had opened again, they were pleased to see Mother slowly nodding along with their observations. Odyssey couldn't help the quirk of their lips into a small, encouraged smile, but once they caught themselves displaying such an emotion they wiped it free of their face and cooled their expression again. It softened into curious neutrality, searching their Mother's face for anything more. Perhaps a smile of her own, or a frown, or a sneer, or... Describe what Othello feels like. Another command.

Odyssey blinked and slowly swallowed, giving a nod before remembering that such a gestured would go unappreciated at best and unnoticed regardless of everything else. "Yes." So their previous success had come and gone just as quickly, tossed to the wind in favor of another lesson, or a test. Odyssey only hoped that they could describe the feeling of Othello to their Mother's satisfaction, but they had never really... known how to describe such a feeling. It was both tactile and mental, but most of all, it was familiar. Like having encountered the squirming, quiet shifting of their cultures before and knowing the patterns. It was nothing like their bond with Iliad. That bond was really physical, it was a pull of their body towards Iliad, it was a feeling of being incomplete unless they were side by side. And it was comforting. Like having someone else in your mind that you could block out when you needed privacy, but still reassured by their presence. Never being alone. They wondered if Mother ever felt alone.

Bright green eyes turned back towards the gorge and Odyssey focused, reaching out towards the culture they thought must have belonged to Othello. They searched through all the feelings they had felt before, the pulls and tugs of the other bacterial cultures, and put their sensations aside. They extended their reach out to the gorge, and though the distance weakened their grasp of identification, they knew after a few minutes that they had found their quarry. Othello's was a larger culture, intact and active, moreso than the idle colonies that infested the rocks. "He feels alive." Odyssey spoke at first, knitting their brows together and closing their eyes to focus. "But he also feels familiar, like I know the patterns of his... bacteria. I can feel him actively moving. It's almost as if the feeling of him is vibrating."

Odyssey opened their eyes and looked back to Magdalena, though the sensation of Othello lingered in the back of their mind. They had never felt it so strongly before, but Odyssey was sure it was him. They felt so strangely connected, so confident, almost eager to hear Mother encourage them to say more.

The way their child described the cluster residing inside their pet was much the same way she felt anybody else. They felt alive, vibrating, constantly moving; it was their birthright, their trademark as a living organism to bear such a notable signature. She had almost hoped to hear Odyssey delve further into their description, to dredge up anything more than what they immediately felt, like what - feelings, at worst. Something extraordinary at best. Something by which Magdalena could identify the pet herself. But Magdalena didn't dwell on it, and after Odyssey had fallen silent, the borzoi gave yet another nod. Their description was satisfactory. It matched what Magdalena knew, and that was all she could have asked for without prying or making the lesson redundant. Perhaps asking Odyssey to describe the feeling would increase their awareness for other Gembounds nearby.

She shifted slightly, turning her head to peer directly at Odyssey without being able to see them, pale yellow eyes searching listlessly for something they may never find. "I need you to focus on me and mine. Feel for me." Magdalena's voice was strangely calm and even for what she was going to ask the child to do next; she just hoped that nobody would come across the borzoi daring to take such a risk.

And again, there was disappointment in that Mother had simply accepted the description for what it was and moved on. There was so much more than Odyssey could say, and so much more that Odyssey wanted from her; encouragement at the very least, a gentle good or anything to denote that they were on the right track, but there was nothing. It was a frustration that they were beginning to know well, as it rose every time Odyssey sat down to practice with Mother only for their victories to be quelled by another command or shrugged aside. Only for their failures to be emphasized with a hardened voice and a displeased frown, and more, more, more. They had come to recognize the mild agitation they felt as a longing for at least some kind of positive feedback. To know that what they were doing was right. But there was nothing.

Odyssey wouldn't fail her, though; she had given him a command, and Odyssey would see it through. "Okay..." The hybrid huffed and closed their eyes again, focusing now on their Mother. They delved deep into their magic, reaching for both it and her; they had practiced this many times without knowing why, they would hope that by now they had come to access their Mother's presence.

It came easy as the breeze and Odyssey could feel her right there in front of them, pulsing and slowly simmering. Odyssey clutched the feeling, slowly opening their eyes to gaze upon the borzoi whose very presence he became enraptured in. And yet... she was so subtle, so withdrawn and barely there, leaving barely an imprint on the world around her. How could it be that she wielded so much power, without even a breath to disturb the stagnant air?