as a maiden she tiptoes shy with her light...

The tree had answered, though not in the way Thothaga had expected. As the world around her began to unravel into the beauty it once was, the spider sat silently, listening to Divine's tale. The great tree had once been creature, perhaps like herself, and Cetus, an emerald jewel of sylvan that rivaled even Eridanus. What tradgey befell this place?

Then, the buzzing came. It fell upon them like plague. It killed her children and dammed her watch over their graves in an eternal prison of gnarled bark. Thothaga did not have children of her own, but when the dryad spoke of her's it touched something deep within the maiden spider, a part of her that was to be, but was was yet to come. It was unusual for Thothaga to feel so deeply for a stranger, but she trembled with the Divine as if her unfathomable rage was her own. Venom dripped from her fangs. MURDERER! Her mind screamed, writhing with the Divine. This anger was not hers, it was mother's, but it could be. It would be, one day.

As the Divine's tale winded down, Thothaga collapsed into grief foreign, yet familar. She could not physically show sorrow, but her heart weeped for the children, for the Divine's and hers to be, as if they were one entity. And with that, the empathy faded, and left the maiden with an understanding of this mother's pain. She stood silently for a moment, still processing the weight of these new, powerful emotions.

"Who is she?" Thothaga hissed darkly.

She heard the alligator roar in anger. He knows. The spider witch turned to face him. "Do you know something, lizard?"


"Thothaga speaking."
Thothaga thinking.

For a long moment after the Children of Rot heard the story, there was silent. This silence stretched, the swamp eerily still compared to the shaking and howling of the last few minutes.

Only after Serek's pleading did another whisper reach out, the briefest brush across all their minds.

It was emotion, without word: distant, lonely grief, a hopelessness born of millennia, and an ancient rage born of ageless injustice. More than that, however--a thread atop the sea of "alone"--was a sense of sad and gentle gratitude.

Though there were no words, the meaning seemed clear: there was no quest to give. There was no aid to offer. There was only an old wound, a loss so deep it could not truly be described--understood, perhaps, only to parents, as Thothaga felt so keenly. Yet there was thanks in that briefest touch of minds. A thanks, perhaps, for their aid; a thanks for Serek's concern.

Perhaps there is good in the world yet, the thought almost seemed to say--though it did not do so in language. Then it was gone again, the touch of wind through leaves drifting away. The tree's presence faded, and left the Children--and the corpses of the thousands of beetles--alone in the black marsh.

@Serek @Thothaga @Hera @Naja

Serek leaped and let out a strange noise of surprise at Dragon's sudden outburst and his first instinct was to run, run back into the mist and hide, hide away in the corner of the cave and wait for the tree to awaken again. Close his eyes and maybe the swamp will turn back into the lush paradise that the Divine had shown him. But, as the tree's presence faded, he knew there was nothing. Nothing he could do. He caught the thanks but what could he do with thanks? Absolutely nothing. He could not help. She could not help him. Or she wouldn't help him. It was another false belief, another dead end.

He took a step back, tears springing to his eyes and his legs buckled underneath him. "Please..." he moaned pitifully but he knew it was useless to do anything.

A moment later, the swamp was silent again and Serek remembered that he was surrounded by the Children of Rot. His so-called family. He scrambled back to his feet and shook out his dark pelt, feeling his skin heating. Had he really made himself look so desperate?

He glanced towards Dragon, the top of his lip curling ever so slightly at the pathetic sight of just him and Thothaga standing amidst the piles of dead beetles. "Well? What now? Do we just leave her here then?" He glanced around and found that it was only the three of them. "Where did everyone go, anyways?"

@Dragon

Death be my dignityExecute hemlock philosophyPoison fills the cup of the carpenter

The snake had stuck to the trees. Winding his way around its thick trunk, he had found himself up in the branches, out of sight. While, he supposed, he should have helped, those beetles might have been dangerous, and he would rather not poison himself trying to help a tree.

He could have used his magic, perhaps, like Dragon, but he did not have Dragon's magic, and what Magic he knew was not capable of doing more than knocking a few off the tree. It was not worth expending the energy, and so he didn't. He was a logical sort, and logic said not to waste his energy, and so he did not.

The Cobra flared his hood as a voice called out, tilting his head. Oh, that was not any of them, was it? Not the voice of the spider, or any of the others.

And then, finally, the last of the beetles were gone. Dead or away, it did not matter. The tree was no longer in danger. His eyes landed on the tree as it began to speak to them once more, and he was allowed to view a world wholly different from that which he knew. The world fell away, becoming younger and younger.

He shuddered - was this joy? Something he had never felt before, and suddenly he understood why so many chased the lure of emotions. All of his Cycles, he had known he was different, but he had never missed emotions. How can you miss something you never knew? But now... now he did.

And something appeared - she struck him as beautiful, and wholly other, like something he had never seen before. With dark colored skin, and dark green, flower decorated fur. And then the voice was back, the world seeming to become dark, and the figure thrashed and fought as she began to wither. And the voice rang with rage - an emotion still foreign to him - but now he understood, that the giant tree was the figure, and the other trees were her children.

And no longer did he feel, and he was now able to think on this objectively once more. This was fascinating, and he wondered how this was possible. Some massive surge of magic, perhaps? Oh, he needed to set up here, and start to study. Serek, the stag-like creature, offered his help, while the alligator boomed an uncouth cry.

And then he was unspeakably sad, and yet grateful. His clear eyelids closed, enjoying the feeling, before opening again as he observed the tree. But then the presence seemed to fade, and they were alone again.

Slowly, he unfurled himself, making his way down the tree and making his way to coil himself not far from Dragon. He hissed "I am still here," before addressing Dragon, "You know who did this?"

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

Dragon lay quiet in the swamp, for a moment, his claws digging angrily into the overturned leaves and the mass of dead, burnt beetles strewn over them. The last vestige of the memories washed over him and flooded away, the wistful, grieving voice and emotions drifting into the mist with the Divine's final touch.

When Dragon's voice came, it was low, tight and angry--filled with rage. "I know that buzzing. That is NEMEAN. The betrayer. She who leads others to their deaths. The light-! The BUZZING," he repeated. "She is small--with wings." And, for a moment, a sense of frustration--of impotence--gripped him. What could they do..? They had never seen her; they could never catch her. Of all of those he knew, only Imp had ever gotten close, and he had not been quick enough.

The frustration, however, only lasted an instant. He was a reptile--ageless, patient. They were the Children of Rot, and they would live forever. "I do not know how to hunt her. But for the sake of all who live within this cave--should you ever get the chance to end her, you must take it." He paused, considering all of what had just happened. "...We have been granted a gift of knowledge, and that is a great thing. Though we cannot take her with us, Serek, I will check upon this tree's health, at times. Ensure the beetles do not return; that rot does not set in. I ask that some of you do the same, in passing. Are any of you harmed?"

He didn't think so--he didn't think they could be, not from a tide of bugs, but it wouldn't do to neglect at least checking.

@Serek @Naja @Thothaga

as a maiden she tiptoes shy with her light...

Nemean the Betrayer...

Thothaga dedicated that name to memory. She looked forward to meeting this Betrayer, hopefully tangled in her web like hapless. "This Nemean will receive no mercy from me, I promise you this." She said, eyeing the odd group of gembounds. They all seemed to know each other, like a family of some kind..

She turned back to alligator, her black eyes boring into him, curious. "Dragon-Lizard, The Divine said you were "children", children of what.. exactly?"

"Thothaga speaking."
Thothaga thinking.

@Dragon

The alligator rumbled in thought. He was still thinking over what he had seen--committing it to firm memory, puzzling over its details. But the spider's words were not lost on him, and after a moment he shifted his attention to her.

"We are the Children of Rot!" he answered. "Though now may not be the best time--or place!--to explain our entire philosophy, I will say that we live here--in Cetus! And that we seek knowledge, and survival, above all else." Dragon eyed Thothaga. He didn't think she'd be interested in them, and he was loathe to tell every stranger that he met to distrust the Elders. He didn't know, after all, how many were already in league with them--and the last thing he wanted was for these very Elders to catch onto the Gembounds' suspicion, and perhaps to turn on them.

Instead he gave this simple piece, and then waited, glancing over the others--but their replies were slow in coming. He assumed that this meant that all was well, and looked back, after a beat, to Thothaga.

@Thothaga

Death be my dignityExecute hemlock philosophyPoison fills the cup of the carpenter

Nemean, Dragon replied, voice full of rage. Nemean, the betrayer. Naja took that information, swore to remember it. "If I meet her, she will meet my fangs and my venom." the snake reassured Dragon. He would look into this Nemean, find out everything he could about her. See what others knew, see what rumors were passed about. Rumors, he knew, could be as good as gold, hold more information than many though possible.

"I am uninjured," he hissed in response to Dragon's question, looking at the tree. It was hard to believe that, moments ago, it had been speaking to them, filling his mind with unexeperienced emotions. Now it was just that - a tree. An ancient one, yes, and bug-worn, but merely a tree all the same.

And then the massive spider - he wondered, idly, how this spider had become so large. He had never met a cave-spider with Greater intelligence, and so something must have happened that caused her to change. Perhaps he could do tests on some cave-spiders in the future, see if he could replicate this - asked something he had been wondering. They had been called "children", and not in such a way as to be referred to as young. She asked, as he would have, what they were children of.

And the answer - Children of Rot. Gembounds who, apparently, lived in Cetus, and sought knowledge. "You seek knowledge?" he asked, before adding, "What type of knowledge do you seek?"

@Dragon

"Speech looks like this."
Thoughts look like this.

"All knowledge," the alligator answered proudly. "How did the caves come to be? What is our place in them--how were we created, and to what end? What are our weaknesses, and our strengths? I do not know what knowledge might strengthen us--which information may save us, in the end. But knowledge is survival--and survival is wisdom. The Children are both!"

With that the alligator turned, hauling himself to a nearby channel of water. "I will return to the offering pile--for those who wish to join me."

A shove, and a flick of his ridged tail, and he was off into the swamp.

exit Dragon
@Naja @Serek @Thothaga

Serek was too heartbroken, too angry to say anything. They didn't care. Nobody cared as much as he did. He didn't say a thing to the others as they threw questions about the Children of Rot and whoever the buzzing was. It didn't matter. She was gone. He had hoped...he had hoped for something, anything, to lead him, something greater then him, but he was mistaken, so very mistaken.

She was gone.

It hit him like a train and dug him into the ground. He wanted to cry but it was almost like he was beyond tears. All of his energy, anger, his need to do things, left him. He sighed out a breath and stepped away from the others. He didn't care about them. He sat himself against the Divine and rested his head against one of her twisted roots. His eyes closed as he silently wept for the loss.

*exit