The chrysalis had been high up within the massive tree known as the Divine; and oh, how fitting it was that he would be born from such a beautiful thing! But that had been hours ago. The shell had landed upon the earth like a rotten apple dropped from reaching boughs above, split open, and out had tumbled the little bundle of golden fluff. He'd napped for a while at first. Then, when hunger struck, the child had adjusted to his newly discovered motor skills and begun making a rut at the base of the tree. It was a massive tree indeed, and he was unable to walk the circumference of it - but he did try, turning and doubling back more times than he could count, until he'd worn a small path in the mud. When he grew too tired of this, the boy wandered back to where his chrysalis lay shattered, found its biggest piece, and crawled back inside. There he felt safe, and began to slip in to a soggy, chilly, absolutely awful little sleep.

The phantom had been stumbling in the dark for a day or two, sleeping when she was tired and drinking when thirsty. The cast from before, the one that had made her hunger leave, was beginning to wear off now, but the need to cast it again wouldn’t be for a while yet. She was used to hunger. She was not, however, used to being in complete darkness. She was not afraid of the dark itself, feeling strangely comforted by it, but Cetus was hard enough to traverse when the lights were on, and now, she was twisting her ankles or tripping and falling with nearly every step. So why did she keep moving?

She wasn’t sure. A need to go back to her Mother, perhaps. The Divine called to her through the dark, and though she had no idea which way to go to find it, she knew she had to try. If she could only get back to her Mother, it would protect her… Or perhaps not. She had been lying in her nest in the roots when the Monster had attacked her. And the Divine had done nothing. She was confused by that, but still… she was young and felt the need to be near the only thing that had ever truly made her feel safe.

Unbeknownst to her in the darkness, she had, by pure chance, stumbled back to the Great Tree. To her, the tree she felt with her nose was just another tree among hundreds. She had to stop now, though. She was tired again. She did not know that there was another Gemling so near to her, sleeping also, as she curled up against her Mother and fell asleep…

Note: No need to match post length.

There was a scuffling sound in the dark. Something large (or at least bigger than himself) was out there and roaming, brushing against trees and finding its way. Nabyr wasn't fully coherent as he was drowsing, but the closer the creature got and the louder she became, the less inclined he was to sleep.

Curiosity was strong in this little one (at least for now). He wasn't afraid as he slipped out of his makeshift home among the roots of the giant tree; the chrysalis would decay and become nothingness, imbibing the forest with whatever magicka it had left within it. The darkness though, whether it was a permanent fixture or not, should have frightened him and yet it didn't. Nabyr was born within it - if anything, the lights being brought back throughout the cave system would seem unnatural. He was perfectly at home here.

He was outside of the chrysalis and looking around, but he couldn't see the bumbling deer despite being so close. She was hunkered down among the roots too, and had the lights been on he would have probably accosted her for it - sleeping in his spot! How dare she! Except obviously, he was as blind as everyone else. He tried to think of a way to get the creature's attention (regardless if it were friend or foe, because such concepts were untested in his young mind) and by focusing all of his willpower he managed to cause something to happen.

It was weird, the happening. There was a dull purple glow behind him (his gem, not that he was aware), and then when he opened his mouth to speak, his voice wasn't coming out of his mouth but rather, somewhere in the dark. It was like he was speaking in to one of those tin can phones that children make! The sound was thin, a little bit difficult to understand, but the message filtered through the dark as a whisper: "Who is it..?"

Who is it? a voice sounded in the dark, however garbled it might have been, startling the wraith from her sleep. Except, in her own mind, that awful whisper became so much more… Who is it… who is it… is it… who… is it… is it… who… is it… Whether such a strange thing had really happened, or whether the wraith was simply over-exaggerating the real thing, it did not matter. What mattered was that there was someone — something seemingly whispering into her mind. And the garbled nature of it did not help. It sounded like a demon trying to ever so gently claw its way into her brain.

She stood up quickly, panicking, flashes of the Monster whizzing in her eyes. She saw it everywhere, that thing with long claws, seemed to feel it clawing at her again. She screamed, sounding like a monster herself in the dark, backing up away from where she thought the source of the whispering had come from, breathing erratically. In truth, all that was there was a little wolf pup who just wanted to know who was sleeping in his space. But her mind, having been twisted and traumatized by the encounter with the Creature, could not handle the strange sounds in the dark. She continued backing up, stumbling, tripping, smacking herself into plants and trees, until she tripped and fell with a splash into the muck, and lay there, wide-eyed, silent, terrified into submission.

What transpired after he spoke was something out of a nightmare. The creature, whatever or whoever it was, shot up from where it had been resting and began to screech and keel as if it were wounded, or perhaps under attack. The boy had no concept of what was going on - he could barely connect the dots between his ability and her reaction, not fully understanding that it was his influence which had caused her to become so unhinged.

The boy didn't know how to feel; he was struck dumb with shock, felt a bitterness like guilt in the pit of his belly, and also a sense of pride that coupled with his rising adrenaline. Yeah, he felt bad for what was happening - but it was so exciting! And as he came to the realization that he had done this, he had caused this mayhem, he could only grin and laugh with the innocence of a child; he felt powerful! He felt good! It was one of those pivotal moments that would shape him for the rest of his existence - not that he knew that now.

His power fluctuated in strength as he lost concentration, and began to giggle. The whispering was soon inundated with his childish laughter, but soon enough the sounds garbled and faded in the air until it was quiet - except for his actual laughter, pinpointing him in the dark.

Soon, she heard only laughter, and it sounded so weak compared to the demon that had previously been trying to pry open her mind, that she managed to get her composure back. Whoever was laughing sounded so… childish now. Like… well, like they were a child. She, too, was still a child, though she often felt so much older. Surely the demon and the child were not connected. Surely there were two creatures in the dark before her. She had no idea that there was Magic that allowed others to make such Whispers, and so could not connect the laughter to the whispering.

She stayed silent now, not so much out of abject horror as out of an instinct to survive. She was still frightened, but perhaps the demon had gone away now. Otherwise why would the child be laughing? Still, if it was nearby she did not want to attract its attention by making noise. She did so wish that the child would quit its laughing. What if it attracted the demon to it? She frowned in the dark, then, feeling some modicum of worry for the Gemling.

It was too bad the lights were out. He didn't know where she was, and it was harder to find her without the screaming. Plus, well, he was getting bored really fast! His giggling got quieter until he just wasn't laughing anymore, and the boy looked around with a pirouette one way, then a pirouette the other, searching for anything that could help him find the strange creature who had been so loud and frightened before. He called out again, Heeey? Where -- where did it go? His grasp on language was obviously going to be a struggle, but he was trying. How he knew what to say at this point was a mystery just like how the magicka was a mystery. He just did what came naturally and began calling out for help - or his mother, not that he knew what a mother was. Hello...?

Now that the phantom had gotten control of her emotions and stopped being so terrified, now that she knew whoever was there was not going to harm her, and now that she thought the demon had left for good, she no longer cared about the Gemling. She had been born with some instinct missing, some emotional capacity left out of her DNA, or at least, it seemed that way. And the encounter with the Monster (she shuddered as she remembered again) had only confirmed to her that other Gembounds were not creatures she wished to be around. What use were they when they only got in her way, attempted to touch her, tried to talk to her with mouth-sounds she still barely understood, and sometimes, attacked her? This child was no different, even if he was young. She was young also, and did not flail around as others did, begging their fellow beings for constant contact. She felt nothing for this child, calling out to her in the dark. Nothing.

She stood, confidently gaining her footing once more, and turned, sloshing water around her ankles. She began to walk away, albeit slowly in the dark, away from this source of annoyance, unaware that she was turning once more from the Divine. The cold seeped into her bones from the swampy water, seeping into her legs and traveling with chills up into the rest of her body, numbing whatever other thoughts she might have had. She wished only to be left alone, to sleep for ages, perhaps, waiting for the lights to return. Then she would find her way back to her Mother, and never leave the Great Tree’s side again.

[Alaska will exit unless stopped.]

The only sound that met his ears was similar to the shuffling from before: deep in the dark, but close to where he was situated, something was moving. There was no verbal response and Nabyr was at a loss for what to do. He kept looking around, making little noises that got quieter and quieter as a stillness settled around him in the pitch black; he knew at some point that he was alone again, that maybe he had been alone the whole time, and he didn't like the feeling it left within his belly. His stomach felt like it was twisting in knots, but he didn't know what else to do - so he fumbled for his chrysalis again (a flimsy shelter in a desperate time) crawled inside, and pouted.