Netahiln's Story: Corruption

It wasn't until both of them were recovered from the ordeal of the hatching that they left the Fate. It took a while, for both of them, to get over an encounter with the Demon, though neither wanted to admit it-- Habithi because he refused to look weak in front of his newly bonded, Netahiln because she desperately wanted to prove that she was not, as he said, a "pathetic creature".

Being called pathetic by-- by a hatchling-- was just... embarrassing. Shameful. Wrath-inducing. But there was enough honesty in her to agree that he was everything she wanted to be-- and if she could humble herself enough to learn, perhaps he could help her. Shaken in the aftermath of the terror of the hatching-- and by the fact that Habithi had been shaken, as well, which was rather more telling-- she wanted to say that she could humble herself. She was feeling distinctly humble, at the moment, which was an odd sort of feeling for her. Just how long that would last, however, she had no idea.

All things aside, however, Habithi certainly could handle corrupting Kalaia, though just how he would be doing that was... unspecified at the moment. And that, to her dismay, frightened her a little. She kept that thought carefully to herself, as much as she could; if Habithi caught a hint of fear not associated with the Red Demon... well, she didn't want to know what he would say or do to her, or to Kalaia.

But with what his kind of "corruption" could do so fresh in her mind... she was starting to wonder whether or not she'd made a mistake, letting Phlegethon talk her into this.

::Whether you agreed or not is irrelevant,:: the dark voice said in her mind, and she started guiltily. Apparently she hadn't been keeping her thoughts to herself as much as she'd hoped. Not commenting on her fear or her bond, the voice continued, ::He would have brought you whether you'd agreed or not. All you did by agreeing was save yourself the indignity of being knocked unconscious and dragged along against your will.::

Mustering up the energy and willpower to growl and bristle at Habithi was more than Netahiln could manage, just then. So she just glared, and got a supremely unimpressed snort for her trouble. His green-on-red stare was disconcerting, and she looked away, hating herself a little more already. Habithi smiled a far too adult, far too smug smile at her, which she caught only out of the corner of her eye, then said, ::We're leaving.::

Netahiln didn't protest.

They hitched a ride back to the space station with one of the individuals on hand for just such a purpose. Netahiln's various magics did not yet include a teleportation sort of spell-- well, shadow-walking was sort of like teleporting, but that couldn't get her far enough, and she still didn't know how to take someone else with her-- and Habithi was too young to have the kind of control needed to bring them out where they needed to be. He didn't seem happy about having to give over control to someone else, but though Netahiln could tell he was tempted to bite their "ride" just out of spite, he restrained himself.

::I probably would have bitten him,:: she told the hatchling shortly as they strode away from the landing-pad on Star City. Maybe she was vainly trying to strike up a conversation. Maybe she just wanted to prove that she wasn't that weak. ::If it were me.::

After a moment of staring at her-- did he actually look startled? she did believe he did!-- Habithi grunted and said, ::Then you know nothing about controlling yourself. And stay out of my thoughts unless you are invited-- peon.::

Netahiln bristled at the insult, and at her failed attempt at conversation or proving her worth or both, but he ignored her. However, when she tested the edges of his thoughts again-- rebellious, perhaps-- she was startled to find that he had only put up the simplest of blocks. She, used to keeping her thoughts carefully separate from her bond's ever since she realized how little affect she was having on the girl by keeping them open, had fully expected to be walled out of his mind... but she wasn't. Maybe, like his teleportation, his telepathy simply wasn't fully developed yet.

Or maybe Netahiln would have to practice her mental skills some, herself.

But more important at the moment, she realized with a pang that she told herself was not fear, was Kalaia's sudden realization that she was back on the station. It was followed hard by a rush of joy, relief, anxiety, and welcome that made Netahiln, sitting in the lift on her way back to the home she'd been absent from for almost a month, squirm with embarrassment. Worse, because she had to squash the urge to return it at least partially in kind. Pathetic creature, Habithi had called her. Maybe she was.

Habithi himself, picking up traces of that through their bond, gave her an incredulous look. ::Is that....:: He trailed off, staring at her as if he couldn't believe what he'd just sensed.

::Yes,:: Netahiln growled shortly. She wanted to add that if he harmed one hair on her head, she'd tear out his throat, but not only would it be a hollow threat-- she knew what he could do to her before she'd gotten her teeth in place-- he saw it coming and gave her a level, uncaring look that kept her silent.

::I'm amazed she likes you so much,:: he said when it was obvious she had nothing more. ::Even as weak-willed and purposeless as you are, surely you're not her type.::

::No accounting for taste,:: Netahiln grumbled, unable to keep her fur flat in the face of his continued insults. Thankfully, all he had time for was a soft chuckle before the lift doors slid open, and Netahiln strode out quickly enough to leave him behind, at least for a few steps. She was much bigger than he was right now, even half-grown, but he somehow managed to catch up, anyway. At least she couldn't say she'd subconsciously slowed down for him-- unlike Kalaia, she didn't really want to be anywhere near him.

It was just a turn and half a street down to the dragon-sized entrance of the apartment. Though she'd never really liked the place-- too much unhappiness was rooted there-- it still felt good to see it again. Even better-- no, no, not better at all-- there was Kalaia, standing just inside the magitech force field protecting the doorless entry, bouncing on the balls of her feet and staring hopefully out at her.

::Stay next to me,:: Netahiln told Habithi. ::The lock will recognize me, but not you.::

Habithi grunted again, and rather than letting her guide him in like the guest he was until they'd had the locks reconfigured, stopped beside the emitter and did... something. The force field rippled visibly, and then he strode through without even causing a spark. Netahiln, wary, inched through, but only got a little tingle. ::What did you do?::

::I corrupted the spell.::

The answer was so bland and matter-of-fact-- so devoid of shades of feeling or deeper meaning-- that Netahiln shot him an even more wary look, but before she could ask further, she was hit in the chest by a barely-prepubescent-yet-ageless girl who had tackled her going full-tilt. Kalaia's arms clamped around her neck and she hung there, babbling about how she'd missed her and she'd been so worried and Neta' must never go away for so long again and what if she'd been hurt and and and-- Netahiln was embarrassed all over again. Then she went from embarrassed to mortified as, quite without her intending it, she started purring under the attention.

Habithi made a sound at the midpoint of a cough, a laugh, and a growl. Netahiln's purr died as quickly as it had sprung up, and she bared her teeth at him. So what if she cared-- so what if she liked affection from one person and one person only-- so what if she purred?

::You are more of a waste than I thought,:: Habithi told her privately in response, as Kalaia, running out of words and sensing the tension in her bond's muscles beneath their fluffy coating of fur as much as through their connection, freed her neck and turned to face the newcomer.

"Hello," she said, somehow smiling in the face of pure evil. "Are you the one Neta' went off to meet?"

"Yes," Habithi said, the first word he'd said aloud since his hatching-- discounting his scream at the sight of his colossal father approaching with sword raised to bring him down. Netahiln shuddered at the memory, and Habithi made a show of ignoring her.

"What's your name?" Kalaia asked, holding out her hand to touch or pet or just for investigation.

Habithi, to Netahiln's complete surprise, not only didn't duck away, but actually arched his stubby little neck, deliberately butting her hand with his forehead. The sickly green fire there, which Netahiln had thought nothing of until that moment, licked innocently at her fingers.

Kalaia, to Netahiln's complete horror, screamed and wrenched herself back, clutching her hand to her chest. Netahiln went fully bristled, metallic fur standing on end and one paw supporting her first bonded before she fell on her rump.

"My name is Habithi Balechild," the Balespawn hissed menacingly, his green-on-red eyes flashing malevolently. "It means cruelty."

And Kalaia screamed again-- a long, drawn out scream that reminded Netahiln hideously of the keening of the Balespawn whose braved their father's disapproval and lost more than their lives in the gamble. The girl was shaking against her supportive foreleg, slumping to her knees, collapsing and curling in on herself-- still screaming-- what was she-- what was he--

In a blind panic, Netahiln gave a mighty swipe with her free forepaw, sending the tiny Balespawn tumbling end-over-end. But Kalaia didn't stop shaking, or crying, and she didn't get up, curled painfully in a fetal position on the floor, cradling her balefire-burned hand against her chest. Except-- her legs weren't legs anymore. Not the way they used to be. They were-- warped, bent-- almost broken like an insects-- and there were four of them, instead of two, all curled in like a dead spider's. And a pair of tails-- one insectoid and segmented like her legs, one furred and barbed-- wrapped around herself as if they could protect her from further defilement. And her hand, not burned, had been-- fused, melted and reformed into three claws and a useless nub of a thumb. Netahiln stared in horror while Habithi picked himself up-- while Keren Tenat came barreling into the room with Charity hot on her heels-- while Gavin nearly ran into her and was nearly bowled over by a half-dozen xenodragons-- but she couldn't ignore him when he slipped his words into her stunned mind.

::She likes terrible creatures so much, so now she becomes one. There is a kind of irony in that.:: Netahiln snarled at him, but he just continued undaunted, his mental voice like a death bell in her head. ::See what you have failed to do, weakling, and what I have done in less than a day. Your bond is corrupted.::

She didn't even have to say that this wasn't what she'd wanted. Not the kind of corruption she'd envisioned. He knew already, and that made it all the worse.

"What happened!" Tenat barked. "Kalaia? --Kalaia!"

Flaming wings all but forgotten in her haste to get to her sister, Tenat actually singed Netahiln's fur. Not that Netahiln actually noticed. Charity growled, right behind her, at both Netahiln and Habithi, as if unable to determine which one of them was the source of the problem.

Tenat actually recoiled at the sight of her sister, when she finally got close enough to see the-- the damage. Kalaia, eyes squinted around her tears, still somehow saw the reaction, and the despair and hurt that welled up was worse than her pained sobs and terrible shuddering. Netahiln found herself herded away from her bond by xenodragons, and Habithi was promptly surrounded by more of the same, but she was too stunned to resist and he didn't seem disturbed by the multiple snapping jaws that stopped just short of biting him.

::This is your doing.::

Netahiln's gaze snapped to Minister of Security, still standing back in the doorway. There was steel in his mind-voice, steel that he had not--yet-- turned on her. Because Kalaia never wanted him to, and she was careful never to give him quite enough reason to. That terrified her all over again, because she read his intent in his sending, and that was the last thing she wanted.

::No!:: she protested vehemently, rejecting the implication that she had wanted anything like this, rejecting the possibility of being banished, kept away from the one person in the world-- the universe-- she actually cared about. ::No, it was him-- I didn't know, I didn't want-- it wasn't me!::

Gavin stared at her for a long moment, as if weighing her, and she didn't resist when he rifled through her thoughts to test the truth of her words. He read her horror, her fury, her terror... and turned to Habithi. Though she couldn't hear anything more than echoes of what he told the Balespawn, the power of that sending made her head ache even second-hand. Whatever was actually said, it was enough to send him reeling, and then staggering out the door as fast as shaky legs and half-blind eyes could get him.

::I want you to leave, too.:: Gavin's mind-voice was lacking in command, but it was still steely. He gave her that much: choice. ::Do not grace this house with your presence again.::

Netahiln started to protest, but she saw Kalaia staring at her from where she clung, still crying, to Charity's neck. For once there was something other than innocent love, affectionate exasperation, or occasional reproach in her eyes: there was broken trust, and there was hurt betrayal. There was the pain of someone who had believed in the goodness of someone-- a someone who had failed that belief.

Maybe Habithi had been right. Maybe he'd done exactly what she'd wanted him to do, even if he'd had to have some outward effect to make it happen.

What she'd thought she'd wanted him to do.

What she wished he hadn't done, now.

Because she knew she couldn't stay... Netahiln left.