Suddenly, one white robe took a step forward, itching eagerly to get to the eggs, another swaying to the side, as if about to faint, and there she was. Excitedly, one quickly got the attention of another, than another, until the entire gathered group was happily looking at her, the first of the family to ever Walk the Sands, some waving furiously at the steal figure. At this distance, she looked like a petite angel, white gown draping her thin figure, pale golden-cream hands holding the draped hem up, shining black hair gleaming with good health and cleanliness. Even from this distance, large, slanted brown eyes, framed with thick lashes and glowing with intelligence and happiness, dominated her face, an image more than one of the watching family would never forget.
She could see them from where she was, many waving, her parents smiling happily, and it brought a smile to her own face, despite the panicked nervousness eating at her as she looked at the clutch of eggs. Her mind’s eye wasn’t really seeing shells of shining gold and fiery, shifting red or mud brown, but waiting familiars of fuzzy, indistinct shape, and her heart beat kicked up another notch. It didn’t help that she kept fighting the urge to hop from foot to foot in a bid to escape the hot sand as she combed her mind trying to remember everything she had ever heard of that could increase her chances of getting a familiar – and a few she was pretty certain were superstitious nonsense, but that she was willing to try, anyway, on a day as important as today. Or that the impish part of her was trying to relax her urgent want for her tattered teddy bear by giving her the interesting image of what the girl in front of her, who kept edging closer to the eggs, would do if her robes suddenly went up in flames – magic ones, of course, to burn the cloth, but not hurt her.
Soft, warm brown eyes around the black curtain of her hair drifted over to her family again and she could feel her lips curving softly. Everyone had come today, to show her how proud they all were of her making it this far, and her heart felt lighter for the love they had demonstrated to make the trip. Not a single one of them, she knew, would be one whit less proud of her no matter the outcome, even if she didn’t bond with an animal from the depressingly small clutch of eggs, but would revel in the success she had already.
Those eyes drifted around the Arena, even as she listened to the heavy words the Priestess spoke of bonds of love, loyalty, and magic for all life – heavy words that bore on her slim shoulders like a mantle. They caught the shining light off the silver of another, nearby apprentice’s blue-striped hair, the little, reassuring gestures made by many of her Masters, their smiles that were nearly as proud as her family about her being chosen, then she looked at the eggs again. None of them would care if she didn’t bond, and all would cheer her if she did. Master Almada had even soothed her a bit by assuring her there was a good chance, if she didn’t get one, for a second chance before she was too old or left school.
But she wanted one so badly…!
She was so busy trying to reorganize herself, grasping for her calmness, that she completely missed the signal that they could move toward the eggs entirely. It only penetrated that something had changed when she felt pushed from behind, sending her stumbling forward, and her eyes flew to see a few white-robed figures already to the edge of the clutch. Slowly, the bright brain she was known for kicked into gear, allowing her to guess at what had happened, and she flipped around, refusing to feel silly as she noted other figures who must have heard of that same charm. She, however, had taken it one further: she had researched it heavily and found the chant for with it and the specific combination of footsteps said to strengthen the near-forgotten luck charm.
So intently was she counting her mincing footsteps and focusing on her soft chanting, she didn’t even notice the quaking, rocking egg slowly rolling its way across the sands. Off to the side, two girls shrieked as their feet were swept out from under them, one seemingly cushioned by nothing, a nothing that cushioned and slowed her fall to the ground, the other looping an arm quickly around the slender neck of her new, large-size doe to keep herself from falling on the closely gathered eggs. Moments before she would have tumbled over it to land on her butt in a cloud of soft, hot, pristine scattered sand, the egg lolled to the right, then back to the left after her feet had stepped past, sweeping into her line of vision and bumping gently against her ankles, making her gasp.
A humming started to sing through her mind and veins, thrumming heavily through her body and making her skin sing like a caress. With another soft gasp, almost a sigh, she was dropping to her knees in a flutter of robes, her hands reaching automatically to steady the rocking object. A primitive, possessive note was burning in the mind beneath the carefully parted coal-black hair, and it was saying, “This is mine!”
The egg looked smooth and shiny, but felt lightly pock-marked and thin under sensitive finger pads, like the most brittle, delicate porcelain. As if sensing the touch, it wobbled again, something shifting inside, rolling toward its side, then jerking upright again. Cream colored and speckled with tiny, pin-point spots of the palest mint green, gold, and blue, the egg was perfectly shaped, like an odd chicken’s, and about the size of a housecat, furiously fighting to stay up on it’s rounded bottom.
Something was furiously beating at the thin, obviously strong shell caging it, and she found her lips uttering quiet encouragement to… whatever it was inside. With a sudden, shuddering crack, the first spider-web fine cracks appeared along the delicate, curved pinnacle of the top. It wobbled again, cushioned and right by her hands, before more, and then more fine lines split through the milky gold shell, before the top popped up like a lid, hopping into the air, then back down.
It was like an entire flock of sparrows suddenly took flight within the Arena, the gentle birdsong floated around and about her, brushing at her hair, before a tiny, pinkish head, like a chick’s, lifted gently up out of the hold it had made, the circle of jagged eggshell settling on the back of it’s crown, the top of a gold-orange beak just appearing as huge blue bird-eyes peered up. The egg seemed to hop in place, and two big, thick feet popped through the bottom of the shell, making her think the creature must have been entirely too cramped in that little egg. A few seconds of shaking about, wobbling on its over-sized feet, and a thin tail shattered the back with a bump, whipping around to smack along the side.
As if that was the signal it needed, the rest of the egg shattered and fell to fine pieces around it, a gentle, soft glow of silvered blue light glowing around the body. She had to scuttle backward as the glow expanded, the creature growing with it, until the bald little chick head no bigger than her hand was the size of her own head and on level with her face, the curved beak almost touching her nose. Bald pinkish skin and skinny, scrawny wings budded with the tiny white sticks of what would eventually be feathers, and the feline-like hindquarters were still bunched and sitting under it, the long, lion-like tail gently flipping by its right front paw.
For a long, long time, she felt strangely light-headed and could only stare in confused awe at the odd creature before it. The feline body was so pale a gold that it was nearly white, soft, downy fur covering from its front shoulders, down its spine and over its haunches, then along the tail to a tuft of longer hair. Before her eyes, the bird-of-prey upper half had gone from naked chick to half-grown, the ugly, spiky head cocking to look at her with the oh-so-blue adoring eyes.
A small grin grew on her lips as she could clearly hear her family’s ecstatic yells, though she couldn’t see them, behind her. More than one voice sounded thick with happy tears, she thought, gently reaching out to run a finger down the smooth top of that deadly-looking beak, then down a cheek that felt downy, for all the feathers were only buds, and the eyes closed in pleasure at her caress. Petting the new-born, half-grown griffin seemed the most natural thing for her to do, a small hand trailing over the thick neck, down into the silky fur of a shoulder blade, careful not to catch any of the little feathers on those membrane and bone wings.
Obed. His name was Obed… she didn’t know how, but it was, and it settled into a special place in her heart.
With a gentle laugh, she surged to her feet, her arms wrapping around the thick neck. The familiar gave a startled squawk, jerking a bit, before she felt the ruffle of the beak nestling into her hair, gently scraping her neck, though not hard enough to hurt. When she could, she untangled awkward animal feet from white robe, big beak from long hair, and stumbled to her feet, the griffin rising enthusiastically, if ungainly, beside her, bumping her elbow and side enthusiastically with its head. Together, they turned, a possessive hand moving to settle between its bony shoulder blades, to see all those proud smiles she had expected beaming at them both, for all the new addition’s ugly glory.
It would grow, she knew, and it would turn beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to see it, as her family had watched her do the same.
For your familiar, you got Obed, a griffin.
>_< isn't he gorgeous? manymany MANY thanks to Melandra 3nodding heart
