Pride considered this, and then nodded. If the need came to speak of those who felt trapped--well, this was a good, if rather direct, metaphor. "Of course I will," he agreed. As to the 'flight' magic, he laughed softly--it was dangerous to press it, but even Charity had to know it couldn't go on forever. "I fear my magic is tired, for now. Settle down; you have so much energy!" But it was said with kindness, enthusiasm--as if praise more than anything else. And it was; he'd rather encourage her joy, her energy as he'd put it, rather than press her down into a mold of something she did not wish to be, that she was not, by nature, intended to be.

She was a child; she needed freedom and joy.

"Now, the 'someone' who stole the Prince did so with a good reason for his fear!" Pride began. He curled his legs beneath him, laying upon the rock beneath the tower, peering up at it. "He was a plain, small coyote who marvelled at the Prince's beauty and kindness. An inky blackness had been spreading over the caves, like water--filling them up and drowning out the light. No one knew what lay within, only that those who went into it did not return. And the one who put the Prince into the Tower hoped that by so doing, he would save the Prince from the darkness below, and spare them from whatever fate lay in shadows."

The white stag looked solemnly to Charity. "But of course it was not to last. For even if it did--safety is rarely worth the price of freedom, or happiness. Up in the tower, the Prince could not see the blacknes spreading below. They had only the Coyote's word for it. But it filled Orion, sure enough; and the Coyote cowered in the tower room with the Prince, begging them not to go." Pride watched Charity with wide, dramatic eyes, his voice soft, as if awed. Atmosphere was important, after all! "At last the Prince looked out--this was just before they jumped, you see!--and said, 'I do not know what lies in the darkness, but I cannot stay in this tower any longer. I can't live out a life imprisoned--that's no life at all. I will take the plunge.' And so the Prince jumped--not only with despair, but with determination in their heart."

Pride nodded, a little, as if to emphasize.

"The blackness engulfed the Prince, and those who were not already swallowed by the darkness mourned and wept for the Prince's loss. Then the Kingdom went quiet, as you said: still and lifeless, sad without King or Prince."

The stag then waited, a long pause, drawing out what tension he could. When he continued, it was with wonder in his voice. "It was only some days later when the darkness fell away! It receded, drawing back into the shadows, to reveal a triumphant Prince--and all those who had gone missing--far below. They had faced the darkness, and found that it could be defeated. The Unknown, once known, was nothing to them. Despair, confronted with hope, fell away. Fear was driven back by courage! The Coyote came down from his tower, in awe, to see the shining Prince at the head of their kingdom. He knelt before his Prince--his king!--and he spoke: 'O, my Prince--my King!--I am sorry for having locked you away. I only wished to protect you; I never wanted to lose you to the dangers that lurk these caves. The tower was to guard you!' But the Prince shook their head. 'It was a prison, a cage, and it was never safe. The Darkness would have found me there, as easily as anywhere else. But now I know my own strength, and now I'm free.' And so the Prince--now the King--ruled for many years, keeping the darkness back with hope and with kindness, and the Kingdom's subjects were forever free. As for the Coyote, he left the tower behind--where it has stood abandoned ever since."

Pride at last fell silent, tilting his head, watching Charity with veiled worry and hope. He hoped that she'd find meaning in the tale--but he'd have to wait and see.

@Charity

Charity took the refusal with only a fleeting touch of disappointment showing in her expression, small ears flicking back and catlike eyes glancing down. However as the stag started to tell his own story, she perked up her ears and settled down to listen, her eyes wide as she plopped herself at his feet. She listened in amazement, surprise and joy and nervousness crossing her face in waves as each part and nuance of the story unfolded.

As it ended, she let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding, her eyes wide, and tail twitching. She shot to her paws, full of eagerness. In her mind, she imagined the prince as looking like Pride, with broad, arching antlers and soft, forest-green fur. And the thought of him stepping out of the darkness so proud and beautiful filled her with glee, and yet...

"...Your story was a lot better than mine," she said after a time. Although, she felt that Pride had changed a lot of what she'd made. It was a lot less sad; though she supposed, looking up at the tower, that Pride's story had made the tower sound just as sad and desolated as hers had. She wondered if she would ever end up like the Prince in Pride's story, stepping out of the shadows triumphant and victorious. She wondered if she would ever be King. "Pride?" she asked after a moment. "Do you think I'll ever be King one day?"

@Pride

The stag offered Charity a kindly expression, his tuft-tail flicking a little, good-naturedly.

"If you want to be. We can be whatever we want, you know? Nothing is stopping you, and life and circumstances are very fluid in the caves. You could be a King; or an adventurer, or a master of magic, or all of those things, if you wished." Though he had to admit to himself that being a King was not likely to leave all that much time for adventure.

Still, after a brief look around, he spoke further. "Is a King what you want to be? And what now? We can rest here awhile, there's grass over there--or head back, if you want. Or something else?"

@Charity

Charity's ears perked up. She smiled up at Pride; hopeful, innocent, full of youth. After a moment though, her smile faded slightly. "Would mamma have to die first, for me to become King?" She didn't know if she wanted that. It would, she thought, be freeing; in her childhood innocence, she never considered how devastating that could be. There would be no more boring lessons or scoldings, then. But there would also be no-one to feed her or watch for intruders whilst she slept. But she could go anywhere in the caves, then, as well; Charity would be able to wander the caves alone as Mamma had a long time ago.

She took a moment to consider, looking up at Pride, her ears flicking back. "Mamma would want me to go home," she grumbled. "But I want to stay with you. You're nt boring like her. Do you have to take me back? We could just run away, and hide from them forever." She looked up at the stag with pleading eyes.

@Pride

Pride shook his head, a little.

"Honestly, Charity, I doubt that Envy's thought that far ahead. It's something I'll ask them about, when the time is right. And the only reason I seem less boring is because you are around Envy every day. Try asking them to show you their magic, or take you to places that they know; they're very proud, and I'm sure would be happy to share those things they know and are good at. But I will be back every single day to talk to you and to teach you, don't fear."

And he would, of course; mornings with the kids, afternoons and evenings with the--... other kid. He had too many things to tend to in both caves--his research in Eridanus and the Seven in Orion--to leave either untended for any longer than that.

"For now, rest," he told her kindly. "And the next time I visit you--tomorrow, perhaps--I'll see about taking you to Eridanus to meet your brothers."

Pride watched Charity warmly, concentrating on his magicka. As if to reinforce the idea of rest and peace, he began a dance of lights: a visual lullaby of softly-moving, ever-shifting glimmers that filled the air around the child--his child. Sparks of silver, streaking ribbons of gold and white, soft teal blues--they flickered and swept through the air around Charity.

For his part, he laid down close by--keeping watch. Let her dream, he thought--let her rest. She really does not wish to go back... and we have a little time, yet.

exit Pride
@Charity

Charity sighed, letting out a huff reminiscent of a bratty child that hadn't gotten her way. "Alright," she agreed. "I think they'll still be boring though." She fell silent as Pride offered her the chance to rest, and looked up as the air began to dance in a wondrous, hypnotic display of lights. The young one watched, her tail slightly twitching, her eyes wide; and despite herself, she soon found her concentration wavering and eyelids gradually sinking shut.

Before she was fully aware of it, she had been lulled into the untroubled slumber that only the young could truly enjoy.

-exit Charity-