Mazin

Regene?

When the weather is peaceful, Mazin can most often be found sleeping or lazing about with most of his eyes closed. He has none of a Spiral's usual energy. It's only when the rain and storms arrive that Mazin truly comes to life, streaking across the sky faster than the clouds he was named for. When all his eyes open and his laughter rings out amidst the rush of water falling to the ground, Mazin is terrifying and beautiful to behold despite his small size. It is for this reason that he grew to be regarded with suspicion and even fear across Sornieth as he traveled the world and only gained uneasy acceptance into a few more open-minded clans.

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"Okay, but seriously." Roundabout tapped his claws against the platform in a fast rhythm. "You don't know your parents. You've got some undeniable Lightning qualities. I think it's a legitimate theory that you could be Windsinger and Stormcatcher's hatchling."

One of Mazin's eyes opened just a crack, but his breathing stayed slow and even. Roundabout might have been a little less freaked out by that if it had been one of his normal eyes that opened.

"Two arguments against that," Chrys said from Mazin's other side. "One: Windsinger and Stormcatcher can't have kids. For so many reasons."

"They can do what they want!" Roundabout protested. "They're gods!"

"Stormcatcher is already Windsinger's kid, and I'm pretty sure he didn't hatch out of an egg like Mazin presumably did." Chrys held up one claw. "Point: Chrys."

"Ugh," Roundabout grumbled. "Look, I wasn't even being serious. Well, maybe a little serious, but not real—"

"Two!" Chrys said loudly before he could finish. "Mazin's not a deity of any sort."

Roundabout stared at their snoozing lairmate. Mazin's eye had already drifted shut again. "He's kind of a deity of sleeping forever." Not to mention, Chrys hadn't seen him stormflying yet. Roundabout wondered if she'd change her idea of what Mazin could or couldn't be once she saw him mid-flight.

"That's not even a thing." Chrys held up another claw. "That's two points for me. Zero for you. What even got you started on this whole thing? It's ridiculous."

"I don't really believe it," Roundabout said again, louder this time, so that she couldn't talk over him. That got him an irritated look from across the platform where Fissure was working her loom. "Look, it's just, there's something different about him."

Chrys gave him a flat look and stood up to defiantly shake her right wing. "There's something different about me, too," she said with a challenge in her voice. "I don't hear anyone going around saying that my parents are the Plaguebringer and the Gladekeeper." Roundabout, about to reply, snapped his jaw shut. Chrys paused for a moment, then sat down with a cringe. "Okay, bad example. Ew."

"I mean," Roundabout said, "you have parents. It's not like you stopped having them just because you left home. I'm not even sure Mazin had a childhood." Before Chrys could say something mocking, he hissed at her. "Not just because he doesn't want to talk about it! I mean nobody knows where he came from. Don't you think he's memorable enough to have attracted some kind of attention? Even if something happened to his clan, wouldn't someone remember? His history just sort of… stops."

"He could have been raised by the Beastclans," Chrys offered, but she at least sounded more subdued.

"Then one of them would know." Roundabout gestured in the vague direction of the Beastclan-safe platforms, marked by railings and fluttering drapes. "Cernunnos would know. He talks to them all the time. He says none of them know anything about Mazin. And Noelani, she was feral for, what, a few days? Mazin is nothing like Noelani."

Chrys tipped her head, her rigid crests oddly weighty when Roundabout half expected them to twitch and dance in their own complicated language. "Okay, I guess you have thought about this."

"I've thought about it a lot," Roundabout sniffed. "I've had multiple theories. Mazin could clear it up right away if he wanted to, but he doesn't. I don't really think he's a deity, but…" he trailed off. Strange. He could usually find the right words to describe anything, but in the face of Chrys' skepticism he couldn't fit the scope of his feelings onto his tongue. "I do think," he added, "that Mazin deliberately ignores all my theories because he hates me."

"Don' hate you," Mazin rumbled. Roundabout yelped and leaped up off the platform in a tight, curled knot, but Mazin hadn't moved or opened any eyes. Chrys startled backwards, too, and the two of them stared down at Mazin's steady breathing. After a long moment, Mazin's eyes started to open: first one, then another, then they were all opening at once and blinking arrhythmically. Mazin lifted his head, then gave a sharp, toothy grin to both of them. "Storm's coming."