"I imagine them," he murmured softly, resting his head between his paws, "some of the ideas come from things I know or have heard --- such as the beliefs of those who called this the All-Mother --- and some from my own mind --- such as the Eventide, land of eternal dusk, whimsical and calm." As he knew the Caves, there was no such place as the peace-swept moor, but there was a possibility. Fantastic things lie beyond this garden and some remained, obviously, unexplored.

Mercurius's serene expression broke slightly, brows furrowing with worry. His son would have to know about the world's uncertainty, but he worried for the poor lad's willingness to explore it himself. No life should be spent contemplating what was after it, nor fearing for their own origins. Besides, Arsu had already displayed his ability to conjure light; the storyteller's lesson was complete now. He was willing to drop the subject in favor of something closer to home: the plants themselves.

With natural ease, the lion-stag urged the growth of a few shoots, twin leaves taking in the light eagerly for the first time. Mercurius's expression softened slightly and he lifted his head again. While the young one's nose was pressed against one of the stems, he rumbled, "do you know what I am certain of, Arsu?" Cajoling a bit of magicka from his pool, Mercy coaxed the tiny plant into movement: its leaves would curl, slightly, gently brushing against Arsu's nose; then, it would bend, pushing up slightly as if to deliver a little, green kiss to a big, dark nose. "I love you, young star," the lion murmured, genuine happiness and pride in his moonlit gaze, "and no matter what awaits, do not worry. Don't worry, for I will do my level best to guide you, to help you."

That was a father's job, after all.

@Arsu

He already felt immense relief when Mercurius admitted to have simply imagined up the story. On its heels came a strange sense of betrayal--his first--a slightly surreal sensation accompanied by the thought Why'd he let me get scared over his story? But then Mercurius was saying that some of it was based on things he'd heard. Arsu--in the way of a stubborn, curious child--persisted.

"Was that story theirs or just parts? Which parts?" The sense of betrayal--faint as it was--was already forgotten, though perhaps to be remembered in the future. For now he sneezed, then laughed, at the plant's kiss. "How did you do that?!" he asked, excitedly, and then pushed up.

He pranced around it, eyes sparkling with interest. He did not know the spell his father had used, and so--in his efforts to duplicate it--he only knew to push more magicka into the plant, with the shape of the one spell he did know. That magic made plants sprout: now, pushing more into it, it suddenly blossomed. Green parted for a red--with hues of pink and orange--to push out as a bud, which then flowered into a symmetrical, beautiful cluster of spines. It was some sort of jungle flower, exotic and sweet-smelling, and he blinked and looked up to Mercurius with awe.

"I--I did that?" he asked, and he was uncertain--perhaps he'd done nothing, and his father had done it instead?

@Mercurius

Perhaps... Mercurius had blurred the lines of fairytales and reality too much in the past few cycles. His ears flickered back for the briefest of moments. "I wasn't too familiar with the ones who called the Monarch the All-Mother, so I can only guess to what story they had," he offered, gently. "Many stories of creation are similar, but there is... no telling which are true and which are not. I'm sorry for not being too clear on what is real and what isn't --- my tales tend to be entirely fictional, coming from fantasies of extraordinary caves I've had. Your other father's are as well, I believe."

He couldn't help but to chuckle as Arsu sneezed in sheer surprise at the little kiss. Mercy's gaze trailed up, following his son as he stood and pranced. In the midst of some further spell-casting and magicka-pushing he was unaware of, the storyteller began to explain: "I simply asked the plant to help me show love, and it did so. You must be gentle, coaxing them into action as you please. Yet, you shouldn't exert yourself too fiercely if they refuse --- plants tend to be rather stubborn, weathering anything you throw at it."

Watching the tiny little sprout emerge into an exotic-looking flower, the lion smiled. "Indeed, you did! This little one enjoys your presence and magic, it seems." Very, very good! Arsu was becoming skilled in magic of the green sort, and had knowledge of light. Both of those could carry him for a long time, offering guidance and shelter. Mercurius was proud of the young lion-stag --- proud of his son.

The flower was swaying in the breeze, somewhat alone. "Very, very good, Arsu. It's beautiful." Already conjuring up a bit of magicka, the lion rumbled, "look." With relative ease and the utmost care, Mercurius lifted a paw. He just barely nudged the clustered spikes atop it, delicately imbuing it with a light of its own. "Thrive, young flower," he purred at it, resting his paw a few inches away from it. Looking up to the lion-stag, Mercy smiled, "it's possible to give light to many things besides ourselves --- such as this --- so that they may shine bright forever."

'And, perhaps, to make them a little less lonely in the dark.'

@Arsu

Arsu listened, quiet, that faint shadow of betrayal flickering over his thoughts again. It wasn't strong enough, though, to surface past his curiosity just yet--it lingered, like a shark half-hidden beneath the sea, ready to come out when his thoughts, later, strayed too close.

For now he tilted his head. Curiosity had gotten the better of him. "I know there are other caves, but what are they like? Perhaps--a real story, instead of a fanciful one?" he asked, a little hopefully.

At Mercurius' praise he felt pride--but it was faint, distant. He did not hold his father's depth of warm emotion, though it was there--he enjoyed nurturing the plant life, but like Pride, some part of him was always aloof. Perhaps even moreso than with the stag. It might have been down to Arsu's mind always lingering in a slightly parallel world of fantasy, in a sense; his thought were never quite all "here," and so, perhaps, neither were his feelings. His love for his father was there, and real, but slightly distant, almost as though it belonged to someone else.

So did that disappointment, or betrayal.

The curiosity, though--with all of his enthusiasm--was real (if still fainter than one might expect). Though Arsu wasn't a highly emotional Gembound, it was clear that he wanted, truly, to know of the other caves. And indeed his mind was already wandering, lingering back on all his memories of the fantastic (and likely fake, he knew--but he'd known that much all along) places of his father's stories. But what was really out there..?

He lowered his head, nudging the glowing flower--and then lay down beside it, as if deciding it would now be his companion. Rapt eyes lingered on it, as if his attention had so easily been taken.

@Mercurius

A story of another cave? Mercurius blinked, then nodded. A brief pause followed, as the storyteller tried to decide on which cave to regale Arsu with. The young one may enjoy tales of Orion, or those of Polaris. Stars or glimmering gemstones? Despite the close proximity of either cave --- they were a short trip through Tunnel H, even --- Mercy wasn't entirely sure either of his sons had seen them.

It would be Orion, then. "Not far from here is a cave many call Orion. I often call it the starry vault; its high ceiling and walls remind me of a million lights. The walls and earth are blue, lit up in pure white by the crystals above. All around are ancient ruins, brickwork and shelters left behind by the ones who came before us; at the heart are their grandest creations: the throne, the tower, and the forum." Mercurius paused, taking a breath and initiating loaf positon. "The throne is immense, far more vast than even the Monarch, here. I do not know who it was built for. The tower lies on a cliff, spiraling high above the greater cave. My friend used to keep a telescope up there --- a pole-like thing you can look through and see the ceiling closer than you could with just your eyes," oh, he missed Bartos. How did he fare, now? "And the forum is a large pit below the throne, lined with many levels. Perhaps, they are small seats for different displays and shows."

As he spoke, the lion wove his magic into a delicate tapestry of light and shadows; effective mediums for the sight he hoped to create. It was difficult, at first, but he eventually succeeded. What first began as a small sphere of magical influence began to spread around them, clinging to the edges of the Monarch herself. Each landmark appeared, corners and edges so defined they seemed perfectly realistic. Holograms of the tower and the throne spun gently. The sight ended at the heart of the forum, unimaginably vast and immense. "There are, of course, many other caves that I could tell you about --- or would you like to see Orion for yourself?"

@Arsu

Arsu listened, gradually closing his eyes.

Orion. He'd heard of it. Father--Pride--had spoken many times of taking them to meet Charity, their unknown sibling, but it had never come to pass. He got the impression that something about Charity made Pride unhappy--or at the very least, distant and thoughtful--and he'd been afraid to press it further.

But he hadn't been there.

Nor had he been anywhere else, really--he'd never had the urge to. Yet now, curiosity gripped him, and he felt a powerful yearning for adventure. More than that, he craved knowledge, and this, perhaps, was more Pride's influence than that of the white lion by his side.

"Tell me about all the caves," he decided, eyes opening again and peering up at Mercurius with intensity. Gone was the distant, brooding gaze of a few moments ago; his mercurial spirit (perhaps the lion's influence more than Pride's, this time) was flickering high. Childlike, intent, he peered up at his father hopefully.

"What do they look like? Who lives there? Are any of them dangerous? --Are any as nice as Eridanus--as home?"

He did not forget that this was meant to be a magic lesson, and in an attempt to forestall any argument, he focused for a moment--almost absently--on his magicka. His white coat took on that shimmering white glow, and he waited, hopefully expectant, for all sorts of stories.

@Mercurius

"All of the caves?" Mercurius widened his eyes slightly, then grew thoughtful. That was quite a few — he wasn't sure how familiar he was with many of them other than Eridanus and Orion. "Yes, yes, get comfortable, Arsu, there is some number of caves and stories that they tell." The storyteller, himself, settled down further, nearly flopping onto his side and sprawling out. A deep breath rose from his chest, and he began from the Core with a burst of magicka:

"Polaris is the heart of these caves, full of crystals and life. At its center lies a great spire, formed of shimmering blue stone and humming with so much magicka — you see, it is believed to be the source of all magic in the caves and the conduit which we receive it. A long time ago, before myself, even, there was a great black dragon who sought to claim the Spire as his own. Quite a few Gembound gathered to fight him, but they were ultimately aided by a great bird of ice — which I will elaborate on in just a moment. A river whose bed shines with the light of a thousand crystals cuts through all of Polaris, originating from a broken old dam and feeding strength to a wheel which is attached to an odd box. It is the source of all light in the caves, if I remember correctly. I don't know how it actually works."

"From Polaris, there are tunnels leading all over the caves. One of these tunnels lead to the waterfalls, Pisces. At the foot of its greatest rapids lies a glimmering, icy pond that is frozen at the bottom. This is due to the magical influence of the bird that fended off the dragon, who lies there in sleep. His name is Tenzin, and he is far older than all of us. If approached, you may be able to receive knowledge of the caves; yet, some of the ancient ones may lie. You have to decide what to believe and what you do not. Of to the edges of Pisces are moss-covered stones that may serve as shelter. Watch your step, there, since the rocks seem to always be slick. Even paws have a hard time finding footholds."

"Another tunnel leads to a room of mists called Cetus. All along its grounds lies a deep old swamp which houses a great serpentine creature — Aquarian, I believe — that seeks simply to survive. He is among the old ones, too. His Children, all adoptive, leave piles of food as offerings to him, so be wary if you find one. All around the swamp are many trees — they aren't like Eridanus's, their leaves are many and sharp. Their bark is hard as stone. Great stone spines rise from the swamp, nearly as tall as the Divine, which is the largest tree, possibly rooted to the bottom of mire itself."

"The tunnel leading to Pisces leads to another, called Fornax. It is regarded as the Great Furnace. Like Eridanus, it is warm. The majority of it is deep water, far too deep for either of us to swim to its bottom and come back up to the surface in one breath. Islands dot the surface, curving from the stones. Vents line the bottom of the furnace, bringing it heat. I do not know much about Fornax, though."

Mercurius paused for a moment, taking a breather. He began once more. "From Orion, there are two caves. One is a vault of bones, belonging to many and to none. Its farthest wall is marked with many drawings and writings, none of which we can read, I believe. Odd footprints circle enormous stones and fortresses rise above the landscape. Just at the edge of the stones lies a ledge. From this ledge, a great bird I only know as the Bone King spoke. I do not know if he is still around — I only ever met his son."

"The other room — and the last that I know of — is full of howling wind. It is known as Monoceros and is known for the twister at its heart and its gorge. Be wary of gusts that may sweep you off your feet, should you visit. An old group used to preside there, full of thieves and crooks. Now, there is only a blacksmith and a great dragon at its roof. If Dread approaches, be careful and be clear. Defend yourself if you must, and do not approach his treasures. He's very protective of them, or so I've heard. The blacksmith is named Glory, if I remember correctly, and presides in an enormous forge."

As Mercurius spoke, he hoped that his dancing lights would take the forms he desired, that they would properly represent each cave and tunnel's transition in accuracy. Moonlit eyes regarded his son carefully, watching for that avid curiosity that seemed to mark his demeanor. "Each and every cave is full of secrets and stories to tell, just as every Gembound is," the storyteller rumbled, tail swaying across the mosses, "all you have to do is be curious and explore."

@Arsu

Arsu listened raptly, his eyes growing ever-wider. The mention of dragons fascinated him deeply, though he could not have said quite why, and the tale of the ice-bird, too, brought with it great awe. He wanted, suddenly and more than anything, to travel the caves, and to see these sights. His heart felt filled to bursting with this new desire.

Pale gaze lingered on Mercurius' expert illusions, and he remained silent until the very end. But his mind was weaving imagery on top of what Mercurius was showing him. He was imagining the misty depths of Cetus; he pictured a boiling furnace deep beneath Fornax' sea. The phrase Mercurius used regarding Canis' bones--belonging to many and to none, both confused and interested him, but his mind forgot the turn of words (which, for a moment, he'd planned to ask about) at the astonishing description of Monoceros and its storm.

When at last the white lion's tales came to a closer, Arsu spoke. His voice was soft, yet earnest, and filled with longing.

"...I wish to travel, Father," he said. "I wish to see these swamps with my own eye--and the ice-bird, and the dragons. I wish to see what makes the difference between a place full of life, light and fire--and dry, with bones, as you have shown. I wish to ask the ancients, and to see what I believe of their words, for my own."

He pushed up from where he'd lay down, looking around, as if seeing the caves in a whole new light.

"Let me find my brother, and Pride, and when I have said farewell I will journey. But I will return--with your permission, with your blessing?" he asked, glancing to Mercurius. One foreleg, hesitating, waited midair. It was clear that his imagination had been captured--he wanted, right now, to set off. It was strange, in a sense, this always dreaming young creature, suddenly so headstrong and wilfully bent on a new path. But so he was, and he peered at Mercurius, waiting for the permission that he knew would come.

@Mercurius

As his tales of the caves came to a close, so did his show of lights. The thousand little points he had conjured up spread out, dispersing into a rather elaborate show of white moths. They fluttered about for a mere moment, then scattered up into the Monarch's gills. Mercurius's gaze trailed them, then Arsu's rising form. The old storyteller smiled, rolling up to his own haunches with a stretch.

With a well-intentioned chuckle, the lion waved a paw, "if you wish to travel and see, then do so!" Mercurius's paw fell upon the earth, softly encompassed by mosses again. "You don't need to ask permission --- just give a little bit of notice, as you are planning to, already." A trip outside of Eridanus, out into the Caves, would do the young lion-stag plenty of good. In a gesture of good will, Mercy conjured up a bit of magic, more of the prokaryotic sort than expected. Pride likely knew of ways to track the son, to guard him from afar, but the storyteller knew only to protect. At least he could ensure that Arsu was healthy as could be.

"At least, let me have a lick before you go," he rumbled teasingly, launching onto his feet and staggering over to Arsu and offering up his cheek for a kiss.

@Arsu

Arsu felt a flood of warmth--of gratitude. As easy-going as Mercurius was, and as much as Arsu had expected permission, he had still worried just a little that his father would protest. Perhaps out of worry, or perhaps a request for a delay of some kind. So when he received nothing but encouragement, he was gladdened.

"Thank you, Father," he said at once, hopping forward. He felt the thrill of the magicka--the warmth, the strength it induced--and his gratitude, and love for his parent, grew just a little. He leaned forward to offer an affectionate kiss goodbye, to the lion's pale cheek, before glancing off toward the glade.

"I will say goodbye to Azizos, and to Pride, before I go. Perhaps Azizos will want to come with me--I don't know--but if he does I'll make sure he says goodbye first, as well." Arsu dipped his head, the slender silver tines glinting in the dim light.

"I hope that I will not be gone for very long--but I will bring back stories, when I return," he promised him. Then, with a flick of his tail, he turned. There was surprising speed and grace in his movement as he bounded away, near-soundless, into the bushes and off.

He would speak to Pride; he would speak to Azizos, and then he would begin his journey.

Excitement--and a little trickle of fear--thrilled through him; but Mercurius' warmth lingered, and with the lion's blessing, his courage did not falter. He would go, and he would explore, and he would return the better for it.

A thought struck Arsu--I am very lucky, to have the parents that I do. And he paused, then--already well on his way back to the glade--and turned. This, he felt with strong intuition, was something that should be said.

And so, less than a minute after he'd leapt away into the forest, Arsu reemerged--his head poking out of the foliage to peer back at Mercurius one more time. "Before I go, I wished to say--thank you. I am lucky--and glad--to have you as a father." He gave the lion a kind smile, as best his bestial face could manage, before dashing off into the woodland once again.

exit Arsu;
@Mercurius