Well, it wasn't a no! Auré smiled briefly and peered back down at his chest. He'd dye his feathers, then, just to try it out. He was already fixating back on the enormous dragon Raheerah and his cave-filling fire. "Maybe... his brother is inside! And he wanted to free him! There could be a big dragon that breathes ice and snow instead of fire!" Despite the obvious dangers of that, the little one was besides himself at the mental image of fire and ice. "Maybe then we wouldn't have to fight him. He'd be happy and good like the rest of us!" Well, as happy and good as they could be.

"I learned how to fly a few days ago! And then the caves shook and this big weird thing fell out of the roof in Pisces! He asked us to help him and a couple others and I came here to find crystals but that's not the reason why I'm still around," he took a quick breath to get air back in his lungs, "I wanted to see the caves and meet new Gembound that weren't ever Bonebound. I might be the Bone King someday if I want to, so I should at least try out that kind of stuff." Then, Aure sighed and looked down. Bright eyes drifted up toward his gem brow and he rubbed at it slightly. "My Father's been dead for a long long long time. Mother's alive and well and she gave the King's stone life again. So, now I'm here."

Oof, indeed.

@Black

Black listened, his brow wrinkled up in focus. Dead? That was not good. That was, in fact, bad. He gave a soft exhale of what was perhaps sympathy, tilting his head as he listened.

He did not ask how Aza'zel had died, though the impulse was there--even he, in his socially-stunted way, knew that it would not be particularly pleasant for the little one to answer. Maybe he would ask later. The description, though, of something falling from the roof--that made him curious.

"From the roof?" he asked curiously, his head swivelling up at the pull of memory to stare at Polaris' ceiling. "What was this creature like? There is a great bird that is made of ice and water; it fought the dragon here, with us. I do not know if there is another dragon that is ice." He looked back to Aure.

"What did this weird thing in Pisces ask? With what did it require aid?" Black always took interest in the doings of the elders, and he most distinctly remembered the moth tumbling from the ceiling, here. Did they do this frequently? Was there a resting place, in the roofs, from which the Elders periodically fell..? And what did this one want?

Either it would be a good creature, and thus merit aid, or a bad one that must be Watched. Curious as to which it might be, he peered to Aure, attentively waiting.

________________

@Auré

Auré could mourn only that he hadn't known his father personally. He'd never know the love the Bond King would have shared with him had they both been able to exist at once. Grief like this could be glossed over easily, but not forgotten. The little one sniffed softly, beak trembling for a moment. With a single deep breath, Aure collected himself. Black was asking the questions now, and it was only fair that he answered them!

"From the roof," the hybrid nodded solemnly, following the dog's gaze to Polaris's own. "It definitely wasn't a bird, and I remember seeing an ice dragon in Pisces! It asked the weird alien about the snow he brought with him. She seemed nice!" Aure's neck got tired and sore, so he put his head back down. "It was tall and super skinny! He was blue and I think I could see through him a little. His name was Naskital---" had he said that already? "---and he had weird fingers and big black eyes." No... he hadn't. He couldn't have. Oh well, the knowledge was out there.

"He wanted to reward us? He called us workers and needed us to help him fix his sleigh thing so he could see the list of good and naughty Gembound. I told him I was a good boy and he asked me if a Mother was an Overseer. She sure can see, so I said yeah."

@Black

Black tilted his head, listening, and made an immediate mental note to bring something to this stranger, to meet and to speak with him.

"I remember workers," he rumbled thoughtfully. "They came long ago, when the Throne was red as blood, and Nemean mocked their master. They came before we, long ago, though how long, I do not know. They worked in the room of stars." Beyond that, he knew little--not what they looked like, nor exactly what they'd been doing there. "Their master was large, and frightening. It sat upon the throne." He didn't know, either, what or who the master was. Only that it was big, and intimidating, and that though Nemean (or so he thought it had been) had mocked it, it had held authority nonetheless.

He turned back to Aure, tilting his head again.

"I am a guardian," he told Aure. "Should you ever require aid, I will be here. If you wish to learn, I will help. I do not know if you know how to hunt; how to use your magic. I do not know what you know of the caves, of who lives within, and where; and who will harm, who will not. Who is ancient. Ask, if you wish to know." The Dog then sat still, staring through wrinkled face at the hybrid before him, dutiful as ever.

________________

@Auré

Oh, was the Black Dog one of the old ones as well? Aure opened his mouth to ask, but didn't want to interrupt. Black spoke in a way that suggested he truly didn't know the answer to the questions he posed, and the little one closed his mouth, listening first. As soon as the dog was finished speaking, a barrage of questions slipped from his beak, "the Throne in the star-room? Who's Nemean? Did the workers build all of the stuff in the star-room? Was the master the one that was punishing Senka and Vat-- Vath---" he stuttered over the name for a moment, "Vahi?" A majority of those questions were mostly rhetorical, outsourced from his frantic mind trying to get all of this information straightened out, but some had legitimate curiosity behind them.

He waited a moment, before jumping up to his feet. Aure wasn't sure what a guardian was, but he wanted to take the Black Dog up on his offer in case there were things that not even Mother or Tanny knew! "I know how to hunt and grow mushrooms! But I want to learn other magic! Is there a certain way to do that? Or does it just happen?" Maybe... if he was creative enough, the little wyvern could just magically figure everything out! That was how it worked, right? Right? "Who are the ancients? Are they nice?"

Bold of him to assume that they were pure and good.

@Black

Black continued to sit, and to listen, dutifully patient as Aure peppered him with questions, spoke of magic, and pigeonholed all Gembound over a certain age, albeit questioningly, into the category of simply "nice."

He continued, one point at a time, to address these things in a manner befitting a Responsible Adult.

"Yes. There is a throne, of stone, in a place where the not-sky shines with pale. I do not know what it was for. Perhaps to sit upon, as a throne might be. I do not know who was punishing them," he said, still perfectly patient, if for the third time. "I do not know all that there is to know, of magic. I know shadows. They come to me; and I am void, and Black, and so at times, when I call upon darkness, it comes. When it must. When it does not, then it is not needed." After all, his magic had failed, but he'd never died from it, right? So clearly some other force must be at work, determining when and where his magic attempts should succeed. Some other force, which granted the shadows directly, and only with discriminating choice.

"I do not know why they are older than us," he went on, now addressing the Ancients. He shifted from one forepaw to another, simply to relieve weight, as he thought about this. "I know only that they are very old. I do not know if anything else holds us apart. They are Astraea: a stag. He has aided us. Tenzin, the ice-phoenix. He has aided us. Nemean is a small thing--pink, and winged, with light; she buzzes, and betrays, and leads others to their deaths. There is Skahan--he is large, with scales. He guards a room, but he does not harm. There is Aquarian. He is a large thing, who attacked us long ago in the water-room, when Nemean brought us there. But he did not kill us; for he was betrayed. I do not know why. But by Nemean." He paused, and then, thoughtful, added--"Nemean smells of copper, bitter and sweet, as blood." He didn't know why, but that's the scent he had learned to associate in his pursuit of her.

"You know only mushrooms?" Well, Black knew only shadow. But maybe they could work on this. "I have seen your mother use mushrooms to drive them back. Perhaps we can practice." Believe it or not, Black had never taught his children, really, to cast; it had never occurred to him. Gembound all--to him--seemed to learn on their own, and at their own rate, as he had. But this one, now, was asking him about it, and so he would offer his aid. "Perhaps you can drive back this darkness, as she did hers." He stared down, face wrinkling up in focus, as he attempted to draw the shadows together--to create a cloud of it around the pair of them, plunging them into darkness.

________________

@Auré

It was most certainly a good thing that Black was so patient and in no hurry to be literally anywhere but here, since the little one would have probably driven any other Gembound to near-insanity with all of his questions and prodding. The dog was indeed a Responsible Adult, as a higher power of fate and destiny had dictated previously, answering each question carefully and informatively. Aure was rather excited by this, delighted by the amount of knowledge he was attaining. "I think there's a king in the star-room, still! But they're green and very, very small," the little one interrupted, briefly, "they sit on the throne sometimes! I haven't talked to them yet." Perhaps he should, given their status as a king. Kings were benevolent and nice, but not Masters --- they punished and were mean. Aure pondered this for a moment, and decided that he should at least give it a shot on the way home. Diplomacy!

The dog continued, answering his questions about magic with the limited scope of his own. Black only called upon shadows, which fit his name, but Aure wasn't the most interested in that for fear of somehow conjuring his own Void and trapping himself or those he loved within it. "Light is the enemy and friend of shadow, so maybe I could learn to control it by controlling the shadows?" It was an interesting and possibly true concept. Dispelling shadows did require light, and the movement of both. He'd have to think on that and how to delve into the world of photons and the lack of them.

The Ancients were first, then the Gembound, it seemed. Had Aza'zel been one of the Ancients? Aure wondered for a moment, but dispelled the thought. Mother said once that his father had been young, even when the Bonebound were formed, that he had been young when he provided Mother's first meal in a friendly gesture that formed a close bond. Mother wasn't Ancient. There were Gembound as old as her, as weary as her. The Ancients, then the Gembound. Aure nodded to himself, resolutely, before perking his ears forward to listen. These Ancients may not be so different from the Gembound, but they might be a world apart; literally, given Naskital seemed to fall through the ceiling. Maybe he should ask Naskital if he'd take him up to see! That'd be fun. He almost forgot to actually listen for the descriptions of the ancients, but it helped that he had no clue what a stag was. Regardless, he committed the names to memory. Nice: Astraea, Tenzin, Aquarian, Skahan; Mean: Raheerah, Nemean. And Nemean smelled like blood, for some reason. Weird, but okay.

Driving back shadows reminded the little one of his first (successful) cast of magic and the fairy ring of glowing mushrooms he had grown using it. Aure paced side to side eagerly, already feeling out where his gem-brow was and pulling up some magic from the depths of it. "My first mushrooms were glowing!" But, they had been on the ground. Maybe, like Mother, he could grow them on himself. That way, no matter where he went, he could still drive back darkness and see! The shadows fell, much like sleep did, and the little one immediately set to work on his magic and spell. Creeping mycelia perceptibly rooted itself in his skin, and he shuddered briefly. Aure focused, still. Within a few second, the fungi began to form glowing fruiting bodies, barely revealing the black dog's pale blue gaze within the cloud.

The little one gasped, peering at himself and all of the mushrooms he had covered himself with. And, just in case Black hadn't yet, he chirped, "look!"

@Black

Black stared, his face slowly wrinkling up in consternation. Surely having the mushrooms grow from one's own body wasn't-... healthy? But, in an example of what the exact opposite of a responsible adult should do, Black decided after a moment that since Aure didn't seem to be dying, yet, that everything must be just fine.

"It is working," he agreed, with a thump of his tail. "Can you attempt to create light itself? Some can. The Lightbringer can do so. And she began as you have: with the fungus which brings light. Yet she can bring true light, now."

He attempted to call on the darkness again, more thoroughly this time, but now nothing happened at all--a brief and shadowy flicker, perhaps, but then nothing. He took no real notice. It did this often; it came when he needed it, and so he was unconcerned. Instead, he set himself to the task, now, of explaining Envy to the little one. He couldn't remember if he'd met this other king himself--but he knew what Kings were.

If one had come up with a lesson plan for this tutorship, it might have been, "Kings and how their Titles are Meaningless, 101."

"Many proclaim themselves King. They will claim the title, with several followers. It binds them as protector, yet master. There was your Bone King. And there has been a stag by this name, though he was torn down and killed as a tyrant. There is Dragon in the room of mists, though he calls himself something other--I do not know what. There have been many. Many call themselves King; it is but a word. He who held the throne--he for whom it was created--has left echoes through the age, whispers of power, of those who served, of the throne red as blood in an era past. I do not think these Kings are the same." He was, in his own way, trying to helpfully explain that the Gembound in this modern age--they who took on the titles rather flippantly--were not the same, as Aure might assume that they were, as those who had come in an age past. The great beast on the throne who could command Nemean was most certainly not the same as the angry green weasel that roamed Orion today. Nor had Hasira, in his throes of madness, ever truly been a king.

But then, Black reflected, he had never known the "he" that had once reigned. Perhaps that, too, had been nothing but a brute.

________________

@Auré

Aure was, indeed, not dying yet. And, fortunately, he would not die from growing mushrooms on his own body. A quick shake of his feathers sent the fruiting bodies to the floor and a cloud of bio-luminescent spores into the air. The little one plopped down, sitting upright and wagging his own tail at the speed of light. Black had now asked Aure to make the light himself, without the aid of the mushrooms that once clung to him. Little spores clung to his feathers, still yet alight with an ethereal blue glow. The Lightbringer was a fungi-user like he was, and she had learned to use the light! There was no reason for the him to not be able to do that.

The shadows around himself and the Black Dog flickered once or twice as Aure blinked once or twice. He stared down at the fallen glowing mushrooms, watching as their light faded from view and darkness swallowed them whole. The last bit of darkness slipped away, and his world fell back into brightness. Aure closed his eyes, feeling out for some bit of magicka. An audible hnnngh came from the little one as he focused on lights. Then, a glowing light swelled up, dispelling any shadows around him in a swift motion. The little one blinked once or twice in confusion, before peering down at his effervescently glowing self. "Oh!!" He checked all over himself for any mushrooms or spores, but found only his warm glow. "Thank you!" Black probably couldn't take any credit for it, but the hybrid thanked the dog anyways. He had helped!

The excitement of making himself glow was disturbed only minorly by Aure's will to listen. King was a title for many, but the little one didn't really believe that it made them a Master. They decided themselves whether or not they should be Masters, he thought. Again, Masters were evil and punished, as it seemed. "Kings aren't Masters," the little one stated rather boldly, "they aren't evil. The stag --- what's that? --- was a Master. Evil." But, to be fair, King was just a word, just like Master was, just like Ancient and Gembound. It was actions that gave meaning to these words! "But what if other Gembound call them that? King? What if they don't call themselves that or tell others to?" Would he, himself, ever be considered a King by others? Should he claim the title of Bone King for himself? It hardly seemed fair, since he should earn it. Someone else should give that name to him. It was way more important than someone's actual name because titles held weight, somehow. Aure --- still glowing --- mulled over this quietly, staring down at his blunt claws and adjusting his wings.

He decided, then, that he shouldn't ever call himself the Bone King.

@Black

Black nodded, giving a firm "Good," to the hatchling's success. And then he listened, calmly attentive.

He peered at Aure, a little bit bewildered.

"Evil? Perhaps, but I think, merely misled. Foolish. Arrogant. Harmed; and wishing to harm, in turn. I do not know, and it matters little, for he pressed too far and has fallen."

He listened to the rest, then considered. He was silent for awhile, this time, thinking over his response. This, he felt, was an important lesson--one he had to ensure was taught right.

"Words," he began slowly, "are but sounds, to describe a thing. You must remember this. A claw is but a sound for the pointed things upon our feet. Stone, is but another word for the rock which forms our world. And so it is with King."

He stood, shaking himself, staring off thoughtfully at the distant dark before looking again to the child before him. "King is but a word. Master, is but a word. It is the meaning behind them that is of import. One may call themselves a word, but it does not make it true. What matters," he went on, and his voice took on a strong urging--as if this next bit was very important--"is purpose."

"If one's purpose is to guide, to protect, to orchestrate--then perhaps they are a king. If they are a tyrant, and care only for power--perhaps, too, they are a king. Yet they are very different. You may call yourself King, and Master; perhaps the word is to describe what you are to others. But it does not make it true. It is, thus, of no consequence. One may say, 'I am King,' as your father did; it is to denote a purpose. His purpose was to serve as king to his people. I do not know him beyond this, but it is but a word. It does not make it more important--or less important; but it is not as important, perhaps, as being a king." This entirely rambling line of thought thus spewed out, Black fell silent, watching Aure with an intensity to his gaze.

________________

@Auré