Begug rapped lightly on the door before him. A tired-sounding voice inside called, "Come in."

The shape-shifted daemon-hybrid opened the door and stepped inside the office beyond. It was sparse, almost severe, though not from lack of personality of its occupant-- more from lack of opportunity for and interest in decoration. A bedraggled looking Light dragon sat at the oversized desk, on a couch-like chair that left plenty of room for his long tail and half-folded wings. He watched Begug come inside; though he was shape-shifted, the dragon knew who he was. This, after all, was a form he knew. Given how incredibly vibrant and blatant Begug's usual form was-- or, if one was feeling less than charitable, actually offensive to the eyes-- Begug usually wore a shape not his own, though this time it was close. He'd done nothing more than steal the coloration of a few other creatures from the Nidus he lived at, mixed and matched until he'd come up with a look that would not be mistaken for any of those individuals, and simply placed it atop his usual body structure. It was, actually, one of his favorite "forms", and he wore it often. The only color of his own that he kept were his bright gold eyes, with which he met the Light dragon's gaze fearlessly.

"Ah, Begug. A pleasure to see you again."

From the tone of his voice, Captain Vaslar Masitan, regional Guard Captain for the Low Mountains, was not exactly pleased to see the young, enthusiastic half-daemon. Begug was determined not to be daunted already.

"Good morning, Captain," he said. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"Again," the Captain's tired look added, but he was kind enough not to say anything to that effect aloud. "At least it's a break from paperwork. Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?"

Begug settled himself on the second couch-like chair in the room, folding his wings carefully over his haunches and raising his crest hopefully. "I've come to apply again."

Captain Masitan seemed to droop just a little more. "Begug...."

"Captain, I've been practicing. I can hold my own with any of the Nidus dragons for at least long enough to get away, if need be, and long enough to take them out, in some cases. I can memorize the pertinent information of an entire scene in ten minutes flat. And my shape-shifting has even fooled my own father, more than once."

"Forgive me, Begug, but I know who your father is," Captain Masitan sighed. "He doesn't care enough to pay attention to whether someone knocking on his door is his son or his own long-lost bond."

Begug tried not to flatten his crest-- a line of fur-lined feathers inherited from that very father, in fact-- at that harshly-put truth. "The rest still stands," he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "I would make a good detective, or even undercover agent."

Running a fingered forepaw over his dark violet horn, Captain Masitan wearily said: "Begug, you're not a dragon. You're not even wholly Avengaean. Even if you were of age-- which you're not-- the Guard would mutiny if I started hiring daemons, even half-daemons, for important positions like that."

That stung, as well. On any other world, Begug was fully adult-- if a young adult-- but here, on Avengaea, he was still considered too young for a serious position. Certainly, the Nidus let him pay for his room and board by acting as Custos, Optio, and now and then Decurio, if they were short-pawed and had a large number of younglings in need of training. But, given the many and varied abilities Begug had inherited, it seemed a criminal waste of his talents merely to patrol and fly in a rarely-used working wing of dragons. On any other world, he'd have a real job already.

And that wasn't even addressing how unfair it was that they cared so much about his off-world heritage.

"I wouldn't mind starting with the rank and file, if that's what it took," he began, but Masitan's slow headshake stopped him.

"The Guard just isn't ready for you, Begug, and you're not ready for the Guard. Come back in a few years; maybe we'll have a place for you, then."

With that, he sent Begug on his way, and went back to his paperwork. Begug left with his head held high and crest relaxed, determined not to appear discouraged-- which he was-- or angry-- which he also was. However, he would get over both emotions soon enough. That was something else he had been practicing: both hiding his emotions, and controlling them. There was no point in including that in his list of "skills" for the regional Captain, however; Captain Masitan would probably just have looked at him funny, at best, or thought he was trying to turn out like his mildly infamous father, at worse.

Sometimes he wondered if October Bonder was the real reason the Guard wouldn't have him. That broken-bonded bonder daemon was a troublemaker, pure and simple, and always had been, with no respect for the law, property, or other people of any kind. As far as Begug could tell, not even a good bond had kept him in line, and she had left him when he was just barely an adult. The Light dragon Captain had been telling the truth when he said October Bonder didn't care about his son; he didn't seem to care about anything but himself.

That didn't mean that Begug was going to pretend they weren't related, or stop knocking on his door every few days to see if he was in and, if he was, see how he was doing. It wasn't often that they actually exchanged more than a few words-- usually something polite on Begug's part, and something rude on his father's-- but October wasn't going to forget he had spread children out across the Nexus easily, not if Begug had anything to say about it.

Begug didn't bother taking wing as he left the Guard regional headquarters; he merely made a little leap, as if jumping over a small canyon, and the instant all four paws were in the air, he vanished from the craggy mountain city. He reappeared a breath later in the warm mountain valley, just outside the Nidus Avengaea, and landed lightly. Home.

Resuming his usual colors with a ripple across his skin and feathers, Begug trotted easily inside, stopping at the entry chamber to check for any messages that had arrived since the day before. To his pleasant surprise, there was a letter, from one of his many brothers-- one of his full brothers, in fact. There was another note, as well, but a simple glance at the handwriting made him frown and put it back: that annoying rabbit-dragon, Oren, again. Hearing from Lirdunglu-- it was nice to know he wasn't the only one with a horrible name, from that clutching-- was much more pleasant than hearing from Oren yet again. He took the letter from his brother further into the building, shifting into a conveniently bipedal form to unfold it and read as he walked.

And he started to chuckle.

Before moving deeper into the building-- his own apartments were in the very center ring, after all-- Begug took a marked detour into the most outward ring. He stopped outside one shadowy doorway, smiling a little to himself, and rapped sharply on the door. The form he wore was another familiar one-- black-haired, delicate-featured, golden-eyed-- and October would recognize it. Especially since it was only a slight variation on one October, himself, favored.

"Oh Father, dear," he called through the door.

::Go away!:: came the immediate response.

"Oh, good, you're home. I just thought you ought to know, you're a grandfather. Congratulations."

There was a heavy pause, and the door cracked open, revealing only a sliver of gray muzzle and one grayed-out violet eye. ::You?:: the harsh mindvoice demanded.

"I think you would have known sooner, if so," Begug chided, pleased at being able to rattle his father for once. "It's Lirdunglu, my brother, on a world called Driolo. I'm sure you've heard of it."

October snorted. ::Should have known you'd be behind in reproducing yourself, too,:: was all he said, and the door closed sharply.

Begug sighed a little, shook his head, and started back on the trek towards his own room. Trust October Bonder to ruin a happy occasion.

Though, he thought, he didn't have to let October ruin the mood. An idea slowly formed in his head, and it made him start to smile again. All he had to do was find someone with an image of this school in Driolo, and he could put it into motion....

Chapter Two

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