Welcome to Gaia! ::

TOTAL POINTS ON THIS PAGE: 36

8/11/04

Two notes have been placed here in the diary.

8/23/04

This postcard bears a photo of the instantly recognizable Niagara Falls.

9/03/04

This postcard is more whimsical, with a collage of a tornado and several landmarks clearly meant to spoof the Wizard of Oz. The words "Visit Kansas! The weather's great!" are emblazoned over the image.

9/09/04

The requisite Grand Canyon postcard has been taped into the diary.

9/16/04



Somehow, even the grandeur of Niagara Falls could not compare to this. As Simon looked up at the mountains towering above him he felt a sense of awe he had never experienced before in his life. They were simply breathtaking. Giant slabs of stone piled against one another, stretching for what seemed like miles before the bright blue of clear skies appeared above them, so vertical and narrow it felt as if they would topple over at any moment.

He was familiar with the Blue Ridge Mountains, of course. Em had referred to those as "lousy hills. If you want to see real mountains, go to the Canadian Rockies." So he had. And she was right. The mountains of Virginia were nothing more than hills compared to this. Speckled gray rock rose to juts and points, occasionally broken by small lines of trees or a winding road. It was simply amazing.

This was to be Simon's last stop. He had canvassed the whole of the continent, from sea to shining sea, and had saved this one place Em spoke so fondly of for last. He glanced down at the map he'd ferreted away from the visitor's center. Banff National Park. The resort where he was staying was not far, with tour buses running frequently, so he was free to spend as much time as he wanted in the wilderness.

He chose a route well outside the cleared paths. Not only did he want to avoid human detection, he wanted to avoid all traces of humanity. He'd gone from cities to towns to rolling countryside, traveled by boat, car, truck, and airplane, and he now knew it for certain: he much preferred areas of untainted wilderness. As pretty as blinking city light might be, they could never compare with the splendor provided by nature. The human realm was no place for feien. They ought to be out in the wild among the trees and streams and animals.

Of course, Simon knew not to view animals too lightly. Several near-disasters with dogs and cats had taught him that. An owl or hawk could snatch him right out of the air and make quick work of his tiny body. (Though he was taller than most every other feien, he was still no more than a small animal to a predator.)

Since he could hardly carry the map with him, he plotted his path based on several indicated landmarks and threw the map away. It might have served as a shield in a pinch, but Simon had something better. He took several nearby grasses and leaves and knotted them together into long chains. He then tied the chains of foliage around his body, mindful not to dislodge the emergency transponder hanging from his waist on a rubber band. He augmented this odd vestment with twigs in some places and was finally ready to set out. Crude but effective camouflage.

He followed first a small stream that meandered through the woods. The water was cool against his feet and small fishes and insects swam about him, curious. The trees of the forest provided a comfortable cool shade against the sun. After perhaps half an hour, the stream joined another, and at this point he turned sharply west. The ground rose steeply and the trees thinned. It was perhaps another half an hour, judging by the lengthening of shadows, and he reached a magnificent cliff. A river below had borne down through the rocks over thousands of years, forming a small valley which afforded a most wonderful view of the undeveloped area. Simon sat to rest here, reveling in the sight.

Of course, his joy was short-lived. Two boats from a local rafting company, each laden down with yellow-vested and helmeted tourists, came barreling down the river rapids. Simon frowned at them a moment before standing to leave.

He started to continue back along the way he had come when a thought struck him. Looking up at the cliff above him, he wondered how far up it he might fly. Certainly he could make his way back down later if he wanted to, and the jaggedy rocks provided plenty of small outcroppings big enough for him to rest on. Freeing himself of his twigs and leave, he set off up the mountainside.

Had Simon not been an air feien he might have been upset by his course of action. The rock face above was dizzying, the ground below more so as trees and bushes shrank into mere dots of color. Only the feeling of the air around him buoyed him along. He felt safe in the air.

Every so often, he would stop to rest a moment and mark his progress. Unlike human climbers, who had to carefully test each hand and foothold, Simon bypassed all obstacles and flew. Still, it took him quite some time to make his way a decent distance up the mountainside. His timing was excellent: the sun was just passing the peak when he started and continued to move in that direction, keeping him shady. He rather preferred dark places to bright ones. Medium light was best, but if he had to pick, then dark over light.

He came to rest on a small ledge softened by rain about halfway up. This, he decided, was far enough. As enticing as a journey all the way to the top might be, it was rather too much. If he went all the way up he would be too exhausted to return without his wings giving way and leaving him to the mercy of the rocks below. Furthermore, however romantic he was, he wanted to get back to the resort before nightfall. He was no fool. It was much safer there without the predators and with the benefits of food and shelter. Perhaps someday he would establish a feien colony in the wilderness, but that day was not today, and certainly not without the aid of other feien and in unfamiliar territory such as this.

The view from the ledge was, of course, beyond fantastic. Speckled gray, white, and black mountains cut jagged profiles against the deep blue sky. Below, the dark line of the shadowed river cut through the trees. Wind hissed across Simon's eyes. Perfection.

Simon sighed and slid back against the rock. He would stay here a bit longer, at least, but soon he would have to start heading back. The sheer height of the mountains meant it grew dark early in the many crevasses formed by the range.Unlike Corvus, he could not see in the dark.

Far to the north he heard the cry of a bird. He crawled on his knees in that direction, scanning the air for sign of any prey, but could make nothing out. Since that was to be expected (there was a reason he wore glasses) he decided instead to sit back and try to see if he could sense the bird's location. It was the sort of thing Corvus and Yasha had tried to teach him. While he was not particularly good at it, it made sense to try.

What he felt surprised him. No sign of the bird -- that was nothing more than a pipe dream, really -- but there was some sort of... energy? in the rocks above. Not far above, either. The next ledge up.

Curious, Simon stood and stretched out a moment before launching into the air once more and journeying three feet further up. His eyes went wide. There was a cave here! A very small cave, really, no more than eight inches high, but a cave! It stretched back into darkness Simon could not see.

A chill instantly entered his bones. Was this a bird's nest? Yet there were no signs of any bird droppings or nest materials. Certainly no land creature could exist at this height. Perhaps it was just a cavity carved out by the elements, a random molding of the earth? But what was this energy he felt? Simon landed and bent over to take a closer look.

At once, something dark came flying at him and he stumbled back, nearly off the edge of the cliff. Only the fact that the projectile knocked him to the ground and pinned him there prevented him from flying off the edge. Unfortunately, while he himself did not fall, his glasses were knocked clean off his face and went whistling to the ground below.

"A VISITOR!"

This was certainly no bird. This was certainly no animal. Simon gasped and nearly shrieked in surprise. From the moving blob it look like-- but surely not--

"You have come to visit Yanvir, yeeesss?" continued the voice. It was high in pitch, squeaky even, but identifiably male. The words were spoken so quickly they nearly ran together and the speaker seemed to have a peculiar sort of accent.

"What? Who? My glasses!" Simon managed, horror on his face.

"Grasses? No no no, Yanvir has no grasses. Grasses are down below. You want go down below? Yanvir put you there. Okay, ready?"

"NO!" Simon cried. The last thing he wanted to do was to follow his glasses on their trip off the ledge. Surely he would activate his flight magic and save himself, but not worth the risk at all.

"Okay, than, you come inside?" the excited voice prattered on. "Yanvir not have guest LONG time, but he here to solve your problems for a price! Yes he is!"

The weight lifted off Simon's chest. A moment later the air feien stood, reaching instinctively to his now-bare face, and blinked.

From the vague silhouette, whatever was in front of him looked damned near like a feien. The form was hard to make out, as it was mostly black in color and blended into the cave entrance behind, but it was about the right size, seemed humanoid enough in basic shape with the addition of wings, and was talking. Furthermore, it was gesturing wildly at Simon.

"Come come come! Yanvir not stand outside all day long! Come inside!" The shape scampered into the cave entrance, going to all fours in the process.

"Wait!" said Simon. He was reluctant to follow this strange creature into what was presumably its lair. "What are you?"

There was a pause, then the noise of the creature scampering back. "What, you blind? Yanvir ish feien! Oh! You come to Yanvir to stop blindness? That biiiig request indeed, but not to big for the Great Yanvir!"

"You're a feien!?" Simon knew enough of feien history to know that made no sense. "But how! They're all dead! Or did Corvus summon you? But then how did you get all the way out here?"

The strange feien broke out into laughter. "Yanvir not dead! Yanvir live forever! Long as the rocks and the trees and the shadows! You is very silly for feien, you know? Want solve blindness or not?"

"I'm not blind," corrected Simon. "Just hard of sight."

Yanvir nodded solemnly. "Me make eyes soft for you. Come in! Come in!" He dashed back into the cave.

A feien? An immortal feien? Simon steadied himself and reached out for the wall to guide himself in. He had to be careful, for as Yanvir's short form had no difficulty navigating the entrance, it was slightly harder for Simon, who was at least an inch to tall to move around with any degree of comfort and safety.

Yanvir's excited laughter and babblings echoed through the miniature tunnel. "Yanvir great, oh yes, Yanvir greaaat," he sang. "Yanvir know if wait long time, feien one day come!"

Simon felt something soft in the darkness in front of him. Cloth. He pushed it aside and ducked into a meagerly lit room. There were two orbs, one on either side, which glowed very faintly with magic. It was just barely enough for Simon to distinguish what looked like an open area filled with scraped. His toe kicked some hard and light and he looked down. The small white fragments at his feet looked like bone. The chill returned.

"Yanvir not have much to eat, but, you like mouse?"

It was then that Simon spotted a larger, conical-shaped piece of bone. A mouse skull. The bones were mouse bones. It was little consolation. "No, thank you."

"Okay, now, we make deal!" The energetic form plopped down in the midst of a dark blue area on the floor. When Simon's foot felt it he realized it was more cloth. A seating area. He sat, glad to not have to crouch and touch the ceiling any longer.

"So, you is wanting eyes soft then?"

Again, Simon said, "No, thank you. What are you doing up here?"

"What Yanvir doing? What Yanvir DOOINK!? Yanvir ish solving problems, that is what, of course! All feien in Yanvir's lands come to Yanvir for help!"

"Lands? You rule an are with other feien?"

"What you mean, I rule area with otra feien? YANVIR IS LORD AND MASTER OF ALL THAT CAN BE SEEN FROM MOUNTAINS!" The little figure jumped so high he nearly scratched his head on the roof.

"Beg pardon," said Simon, "but isn't this a national park?"

"A hwuh?"

"Owned by the government?"

If Simon could have seen better, he would have seen Yanvir's eyes go wide with shock. "No! Yanvir's lands! No one take Yanvir's land! Tell Guv and Mint get their own! This land, all land see from mountains, is belonging to Yanvir Pierre du Klausheim!"

"Yanvir what?"

Yanvir's face now fell. "Yanvir Pierre du Klausheim!" he repeated, slightly quieter. His energy was quickly back. "What you mean, come seek Yanvir and not know Yanvir whole name!? All feien is knowing Yanvir Pierre du Klausheim! Yanvir Pierre du Klausheim is greatest and biggest of all feien!"

The last statement was dubious. Yanvir could not be more than six inches tall. Simon shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

"HOW YOU CAN NOT KNOW YANVIR PIERRE DU KLAUSHEIM!?!?" Yanvir's voice echoed quite loudly and he suddenly dropped back to the floor and took the cloth and folded it over his little head. "YANVIR IS SAVING ALL FEIEN AND IS MOST POWERFUL IN THE WORLD!"

"I thought Julius was the most powerful," remarked Simon, surprised.

Now Yanvir was angry. "JULIE-FOOLIE NOT MOST POWERFUL! YANVIR MOST POWERFUL! Yanvir prove it! Yanvir make Julie-foolie merge with gemstone not want! Did biiiiig switcher! Made gem look like other it not! Julie-foolie make big a** of self and not notice and bond with anyway! Ahahaha! Ahaha!" He laughed like the Wicked Witch of the West in the middle of a bout of hiccups.

Simon just stared. What more could he do?

"You want mouse?" Yanvir asked for the second time, yanking a piece of raw haunch off a rotting carcass and waving it under Simon's nose.

Simon doubled over, gagging. "No, no thank you!" he choked out, tears springing to the corners of his eyes. It reeked worse than anything Simon had ever smelled before. Yanvir placed it back with the rest of the carcass and the cave's odor returned to normal.

"So, now, business," said Yanvir. "You come to Yanvir to fix hard eyes. What you offer?"

Simon shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't come here to see you. I didn't know you were here."

"But..."

"I was just in the middle of a journey. I've traveled across the whole country," Simon said.

"But... you no come see Yanvir the Great and Mighty and Munificent o solve problem? Fairies come see Yanvir solve problems for many, many years. Yanvir very famous and all feien know him. This because Yanvir most magical of all fairies and do anything, even bring back dead."

Simon went to push his glasses up on his nose, only his glasses were not there. "Bring back dead?"

Yanvir rolled back. "Yep! Yanvir only feien who do this. Julie-foolie maybe can, but never want to. Me think he can't and simply say it bad because very jealous of Yanvir, Yanvir being most powerful and all."

Simon frowned. "But that's not right. Corvus resurrected a gemstone. Clearly you are not the only feien with that sort of magic."

"WHAAAAT!?!?" Yanvir leapt up and pounced on Simon, knocking the bigger feien to the floor again in a flash. "No! This not right! Yanvir only feien who ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER bring back dead! Ever!" Spittle hit Simon in the face.

Once again, Simon was at a loss for words. He wiped his face off with his hand. "Okay," he said meekly.

"You lie! Say you liar!"

That Simon could not do. "But it's the truth. Corvus brought back a gemstone before I left. I didn't actually see him do it, but I was told."

"Who this Corvus?" demanded Yanvir, trying to shake Simon. He was almost pitifully weak.

"Corvus is the summoner feien. He summoned me."

At that Yanvir started to laugh. His laughter quickly subsided into gasps. "Make sense now. This because Yanvir make Corvus." Yanvir smiled.

"I was told that Julius was responsible for creating Corvus, along with the High Council."

"YANVIR IS HIGH COUNCIL!" screamed Yanvir, causing Simon to flinch away. He tried to shake the bigger feien some more. "Yanvir is high council!"

That would explain it, then. How Yanvir was still alive, how he might be able to reincarnate a gemstone, and all of his claims. The only confusing part was how this clearly deranged individual had gotten onto the Council in the first place. Then again, Yanvir said no one had come to visit him in some time. Perhaps the lack of contact with others drove him insane.

At long last, Yanvir crawled away from Simon and curled up in a little ball, pulling part of the cloth over him as he did. "Sleep now," the little feien sighed. "Sleep now."

"Wait," said Simon, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He still had more questions to ask.

No response.

Simon sighed and wondered what to do now. Should he just leave Yanvir like this, living in this little cave? It was sadly tempting. Perhaps he could leave and come back? Would he be able to find the place again?

"Yanvir ees WAITING," a little voice suddenly demanded.

"Huh? Oh. I was just thinking that if you're going to sleep, I should probably leave."

"What!? You leave Yanvir?" The little voice sounded close to tears. "No leave Yanvir! You Yanvir friend! No one come visit long time, but now finally visit! You stay, and later take Yanvir to see summoner. Okay?"

"Um, sure," said Simon, leaning against the closest wall and frowning. "But he's on the other side of the continent."

Yanvir sat up and looked at Simon. "What that mean?"

Simon blinked. "He's very, very far away. Just to get here from there took me a month."

"A month?" Yanvir whined. "Where it at? What realm?"

"Realm? He's in Virginia, in the United States."

"ACK! 'Ginia! That East America! That Julius's! But okay, I know 'Ginia. We go there now."

Simon sighed. Poor, confused feien. "We can leave now, but it would take us at least two days if we can find the right flights..."

"Fly? Ahaha! You stupid!" said Yanvir. Simon bristled. He was many things, but stupid was not among them. "We not FLYYY, we PORT! So now, tell me where this place be. What be, maybe marker? There a marker for this place, yes?"

"A marker? What's that? He lives in Roanoke, Virginia, in a house."

"A maaaarker," groaned Yanvir. "A fairy place. Maybe have a plant."

"Oh, yes, there's a plant. It's the downstairs computer room. It's the one I was summoned from."

"Oh, really? That good," Yanvir nodded. He scrambled back to Simon somewhat wearily. "Okay, I can find it. We go now."

Simon opened his mouth to object, but too late. The cave around him abruptly disappeared, replaced instead by a surprisingly familiar sight.

The sunroom office. To one side sat Emperial's desk and computer (presently unoccupied) and to the other, the feien fairy plant. Simon blinked. This made no sense. Surely he had not just gone from northwest Canada to the southeast United States?

"Simon!?" a voice from further within the house yelled. There was the sound of footsteps.

"Hm," Yanvir said, looking around the room. "This is interesting."

The heavy, furred gray curtain which divided the downstairs computer room from the rest of the house flew open. Djerod was standing there, pale and shaken. Simon quickly stood up.

"Admiral!"

"Simon! What the hell?" The Rhean moved a hand to his ear a moment. "No problems here, it's Simon. Simon, what do you think you're doing? You just tripped every alarm in the house! Who is--"

"GAAHHHHH! HUMAN!" screamed Yanvir, jumping off the side of the table. He landed out of sight on the hardwood floor below with a small crash. Simon just blinked, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he really had just crossed the whole of the continent in what seemed like the space of a millisecond.

"Simon!? Is Simon back?" came Emperial's voice. She quickly thundered into sight behind Djerod. "Simon! You're back!" Ducking under her shocked father's arm, she pushed past her chair and picked Simon up, squeezing him gently.

"Hi, Emi," Simon said, looking over to see if he could spot Yanvir. The entire room was one large blur.

"There was another one," Djerod choked out, pointing to the now empty patch of floor. "He went under the table."

"Another one?" Emperial asked.

"Yes, that's Yanvir," Simon said.

Emperial looked at Simon quizzically and knelt down, placing Simon on the floor beside her. She peered underneath the painted yellow dresser. Huddled in the corner was a tiny trembling ball of black. "Hello there. Are you quite alright?" The little ball did not move.

"Where is he?" asked Simon.

"Oh! You're glasses are missing," Emperial realized. "He's in the very corner there." She pointed helpfully.

Bending to fit, Simon stumbled over to Yanvir's side. "This is my human bond, Emperial, and her father," he explained.

"You never said anything about humans!" Yanvir said fearfully. He was huddled beneath small wings. Emperial looked curiously at Yanvir's three tails, which twitched wildly (and which Simon had been unable to make out before now).

"Oh, it's okay," crooned Emperial. "Are you hungry? Tired? Cold? I can get you some food. We're really quite nice here. There's no need to be afraid! Come on out. We won't hurt you."

"It's the truth," Simon said, keeping a short distance away from the unpredictable little feien. "This is where I live, with these humans and the summoner, Corvus. Emi is Corvus's bond, too."

"Bruu," went Yanvir.

"Oh, brother. Kancho, hand me those Reese's Pieces on the desk?" There was some shuffling as the bag was passed down tot eh floor and Emperial removed a little handful. She stretched her hand underneath the dressed. "You want a bit of chocolate? A little piece of chocolate just perfect for a feien? Here, Simon, give him some chocolate."

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Simon mumbled, but took a piece anyway and carted it over to Yanvir'. "Here." He held it out.

"What that?" Yanvir demanded.

"It's chocolate. Food." Simon hit it with his other hand so the hard shell cracked and peeled it open, revealing the peanut butter-flavored interior. Not technically chocolate, per se, but close enough. He scooped out a small finger and put it to his mouth. "Very good. See?" Certainly better than rotten mouse meat, anyway.

Yanvir looked at Simon suspiciously. He put a finger into the candy piece and tasted it. "Mm, this quite good." He snatched the whole piece from Simon, rolled so he was sitting, and started digging in. The piece of candy was gone in mere moments.

"I have more," said Emperial, "if you'll just come out. Lots more!"

"Hmm," said Yanvir, pondering.

"Wel, I'm certainly not staying under here any longer," Simon said. It was dark and dusty and he had to stoop uncomfortably. He started moving back out.

"WAIT! You said you not leave Yanvir! You stay!"

This was quickly growing tiresome. "No, you come with me and go out. I can't fit down here."

"Chocolates!" Emperial added helpfully.

"How much chocolates?" asked Yanvir suspiciously. Emperial opened her hand to reveal a good dozen.

"And you can have them all," she promised. "And we won't hurt you. So come on out!"

Slowly, Yanvir crept forward. A relieved Simon followed behind. Once he reached the dresser's edge, Yanvir stared at the hand full of chocolates and considered.

Simon, who had really had enough of this, solved the ancient's dilemma. He placed one hand firmly on Yanvir's back and pushed him out. Yanvir went tumbling into Em's hand into the pile of candy.

Djerod leaned over to look at this newcomer. Black, with small curled wings, white skin visible on his face and chest, blue and orange hair, three tufted tails (two blue, one orange), and light green clawed hands with tiny batwings on the wrists. He opened his little mouth wide, revealing small fangs, and clamped down on a piece of chocolate. "Mmfgh!"

Emperial giggled. "You have to break the outside first."

"Is Corvus around?" Simon asked.

"Back porch," said Em, helping Yanvir to break the candy open and gorge himself.

"Yanvir come here meet Corvus!" said Yanvir between mouthfuls of food.

"I don't understand, where did he come from and how did the two of you get here from northwest Canada?" Djerod asked. So they had been tracking Simon using the transponder all along. Simon frowned.

"He's an immortal Ancient, or so he says. He also claims to be a member of the High Council."

"YANVIR IS HIGH COUNCIL!"

"Yanvir is so cute," Emperial grinned down at the little feien.

"He was somehow able to teleport to the fairy plant," continued Simon.

Djerod frowned. If the plant constituted a security risk it would to be moved outside the house. He looked down at Yanvir once more, decided to leave that discussion for later, and quietly left the room.

Simon watched Djerod's retreat curiously, ignoring the noises of Yanvir and Emperial. "I'm going to go see Corvus," he announced, and made his way out.

There was a good deal to talk about, but first things first: he needed a new pair of glasses.

10/23/04

Careli followed Djerod from Durem to Barton, window shopping as she walked. Already she knew exactly what to ask for. That yellow dress with the white ribbons, that fur stole, shoes studded with rubies. Assuming her caretaker even had the finances.

The area they ended up in was behind a shop with no window display. Careli started to try and decipher the unfamiliar script on the sign, but Djerod kept walking, so she hurried to follow him into the alley.

It was cool and shady here between the buildings, and dark. It seemed a rather disreputable sort of place.

"Take my hand," said Djerod. "The first time is often the most confusing."

Careli took his gloved hand and started to walk forward with him. "The first time what--!"

The little alleyway disappeared and Careli suddenly found herself standing on a porch. The wooden boards beneath her feet were painted green and white columns rose beside her. Past the columns was a small yard with two Japanese maple trees (though she did not know what they were) and a street with several parked cars. Birds chirped and children played in the distance.

Djerod released her hand abruptly and went to the door of the white building. It was unlocked. "Coming?"

"But..." Careli looked around in confusion, noting that this was not Gaia by a long shot. "I'm coming."

The house was plainly adorned. There were two couches, one white and the other teal. A wooden cabinet housed a large black screen. Childrens' art projects lined the walls, carefully preserved and framed. There were tables, magazines, papers, and a coat rack.

Upon Djerod's entrance, a voice called out, "Kancho! O kulres klasse kachann!"

"Elmai nillaiyen," Djerod replied. "We have a guest."

"I saw."

Careli identified the voice as coming from behind a large copper curtain. A hand emerged, pushing the curtain outside, and a girl peered out. She was older than Careli, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Her shoulder-length hair was a dark brown shade that glinted dully in the faint light and her blue eyes were hidden behind wireframe glasses. "Hullo there," she said to Careli.

"This is Careli, that Academy student your sister sent us."

"Ahaha, the spiny-backed wookie is at it again!" the girl exclaimed, stepping out from behind the curtain.

"Don't speak of your sister so," chastised Djerod. "Careli, this is my younger daughter, Emperial."

"Careli Thurish." Careli nodded her head.

Emperial just grinned like a madman and replied, "Her Imperial Highness the Lady Duchess Rear Admiral Emperial Teal Atreides-Piett, but you can just call me Em."

Careli blinked, then looked at Djerod, who tugged at his collar uncomfortably.

"Piett?" the little girl squeaked. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, brother," went Emperial. "If you bring up that whole Eydennir thing, I swear I'll kill you."

"Be polite," growled Djerod, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"You're the Butcher of Eydennir!" exclaimed Careli, backing up until her rump hit the front door.

Djerod looked very tired and pulled his hat off, tossing it at the coat rack and not caring where it landed. It fell to the floor at Emperial's feet.

"A misnomer," said Emperial, stooping to collect the hat. She dropped it on top of a nearby radiator. "Kancho is no longer that, and we don't speak of it in this household."

Something very small zipped through the air near Emperial. "What's going on?" demanded a voice. It took Careli a moment to realize the voice was the small object, and that the object was not an object but a person some nine inches tall. A pair of dark blue wings beat the air furiously from his back.

"Simon, Careli. Careli, Simon," said Emperial. "Careli's to be staying with us, I think."

"If she still wishes to," sighed Djerod. "I had hoped to get to know you without all the baggage of my former occupation, but as usual, my daughter has reminded me that no matter how hard one runs, one can never escape the past. Thank you very much, Emperial."

Emperial physically cowered. "I'm sorry, Kancho, really I am. I just forgot. I mean, ever since we've been playing on Gaia we haven't needed to disguise our names and identities any more." She looked down at Careli. "We're awfully nice people once you get to know us, really. In fact, Kancho's the nicest person I know, and I know a lot of people."

Careli remained unconvinced. Her little hands tightened into fists.

The tiny airborne figure flitted down to Careli's side, adjusting his miniature glasses as he did. Careli waited for him to speak again, but he just hovered there, looking at her.

"Is dinner started?" Djerod asked.

"I think Max's in the kitchen..."

"YES, I'M IN THE KITCHEN," came a shout from another room.

From somewhere upstairs, a woman's voice: "Don't yell, Max! I have a pounding headache!"

Djerod paused. "If Max is in the kitchen and you've been at your computer and Sally is lying down, who's watching Shizue and Zevulon?"

Emperial cocked her head to the side. "Uh... No, wait! I've got it! ... They're sleeping."

Djerod groaned. The minute he left the house, things went downhill. Always. "I'm afraid there is the smallest of problems with the sleeping arrangements," he informed Careli. "We've been expecting you for some time, and in the interim, your bedroom was converted into a nursery. Perhaps I should take you to the Academy."

"No way!" said Emperial. "We can't send her there. They'll brainwash her and feed her all their tripe! Here, you can just have my bed and I'll sleep in the attic."

Now Djerod was getting a headache, too. "You're not sleeping in the attic, Emperilu."

"Just temporarily. Besides, it's my house, I can decide sleeping arrangements if I want."

Of course, Djerod knew full why Emperial wanted to sleep up there, and the reasoning did not please him one bit. Still, she was in fact correct. This dimension did belong to her and she could do as she pleased.

Emperial took advantage of Djerod's weary silence and addressed Careli. "I'll give you the house tour if you like. C'mon! There are tons of people to meet. This house may not be very big, but... there should be a witty ending to that statement. Hm."

"But it's bigger on the inside than the outside," offered Simon. Careli jumped slightly when he spoke.

"No, that's too technical. I wanted something philosophical."

"It isn't getting any younger," said Djerod. Emperial laughed at that.

Maybe, just maybe, these folk would not be so bad. Careli eyed them warily and edged towards Emperial. "How can it be bigger inside than outside?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"When the laws of physics don't quite apply. This is a side dimension, a pocket if you will, and since I created it I can decide the way everything works. I could even add more rooms if needed, but we try not to do that because it gets harder to maintain." As Emperial spoke, she moved towards the stairwell, clearly intending for Careli to follow her.

Careli stepped lightly forward, casting a glance back at Djerod and Simon. She did not trust them one bit.

---

Once upstairs, Careli found the courage to ask Emperial, "What was that little person?"

"Simon? He's a feien fairy and he's bonded to me. There are two other such fairies in the house, Corvus and Fifth. You might meet them later. Ah, here, this is the room that was supposed to be yours."

Careli peered through the open door. The room was decorated for a boy. "It used to be my brother's," continued Emperial. That explained it.

"Where is your brother?" Djerod had not mentioned any sons.

"Oh, he's off at college, much to the delight of my parents. Over there, that's Shizue and Zevulon." Emperial indicated a crib holding a sleeping baby, impossible to discern well behind the crib bars, and another child sprawled on the lower portion of a bunk bed. "Shizue's a Kabuki child and Zevulon's a fa'e. We shouldn't wake them up." Emperial gently closed the door.

"Hello there," came a soft voice. Careli turned and saw a woman dressed in a house coat standing on the other side of the hallways with a cup of steaming liquid in her hand. Her long hair was light brown and pulled into two braids. She smiled at Careli most presently. "Another houseguest?"

"Yes, this is..."

"Careli," supplied Careli, annoyed that this Emperial girl had forgotten her name already.

"Pleased to meet you," said the woman. She was extremely soft-spoken. Careli thought she detected the slightest bulge beneath the housecoat and sensed the woman was with child. "I'm Sally Veers. Have you met my husband yet?"

"No, we're doing the upstairs first," said Emperial.

"Ah. Well, when you do, please don't mind him. He can be a bit gruff at times. I sincerely hope he behaves himself for you. How old are you?"

Careli answered, but the measurements were different.

"Ten?" said Emperial questioningly as she attempted to do the conversion in her head. "Eight?" Careli did not care. The woman bored her.

Apparently, Careli did not bore the woman, for she next asked, "Where are you from?"

Careli's eyes darted to the side. "Adarlon," she said sullenly.

"Oh! I love Neile Janna," smiled Sally. "I'll leave you girls be now. It was nice to meet you, Careli."

When Careli did not answer, Sally shrugged slightly and walked back to her room. The door closed behind her.

Careli was standing in the hallway with Emperial surrounded by closed doors on all sides. For some reason, this made her uncomfortable. She looked around nervously while Emperial observed her.

"So," said Emperial, "why don't we head downstairs? There's a game room in the basement."

The basement was full of oversized plush cushions and game tables. Ping pong in one corner, foozball in the other. A Playstation was hooked up to a modestly sized flatscreen. Careli stared at the device with mixed feelings. She could recognize technology when she saw it, but it was so foreign, so alien, and worst of all, so primitive. Were these people truly from her universe? What sort of a place was this? Most of all, it was unfair.

Emperial stared at Careli, wondering what this sullen child was thinking. There came a clattering noise from upstairs.

"DINNER!"

Slightly more muffled, an exasperated "Max!" followed by a "Sorry, Sal." Emperial jerked her head to the side.

"Let's eat."

As Careli trudged back upstairs, she cast a final glare across the game room. More and more she despised this realm.

And she had yet to even see dinner.

Emperial took one look at the steaming dish on the stove and said, "We're going to Taco Bell."

"What!?" The chef, Max, was purple with anger. He had broad, square features, and a scowling face. Careli immediately disliked him just a little less than the others for that scowl. He seemed more interesting.

"Careli was just telling me how she'd like to try some local cuisine," said Em.

Max just crossed his arms, spatula in hand. "Casserole IS local cuisine."

"Not when you add THOSE it isn't." Emperial pointed at a small pile of opened packages on the counter. Careli recognized them as saturated nutrient packs, the kind used by the military or dangerous expeditions. The markings identified them as Imperial in origin.

Taking Careli by the hand, Emperial waved at Max and led Careli back into the living room, where she had first entered the house. "Simon!" said Emperial. "We're getting some Taco Bell. You want?"

The little man appeared from a nearby closet and went for Emperial's shoulder. "Casserole?" he whispered hoarsely into her ear.

"Is it ever anything else?" Emperial hissed back.

Simon smirked. Now that he was stationary, Careli was able to observe him further. His short hair was purple, his red eyes almost so tiny she could not make out the color, and the dark blue markings on him seemed to be part of his skin, which meant he was otherwise unclothed (but also unadorned). The markings covered his hips, thighs, and one arm. The rest was flesh tone. Simon looked over at her and she realized she had been staring. She looked away hurriedly. The fairy gave Emperial a knowing gaze, then launched himself from her shoulder and hovered in the air in front of the young Jedi. "Mind if I ride with you?" Behind him, Emperial tapped her shoulder and nodded.

"Fine..." A moment later he was seated on the soft fabric of her robe. He weighed next to nothing. Careli tried not to look at him.

As if suddenly remembering something, Simon looked up at Emperial. "Djerod is upstairs."

"Right," she nodded. "I'll be right back." She went back into the kitchen, exchanged a few words with Max, and soon returned.

They left there, heading for a primitive land transport, an automobile. Careli stared at the wheels before entering and curiously observed the activation procedure. It looked simple. So simple a child could do it. Simply put the key in the ignition, turn, and use the wheel to steer. Not much different from a speeder, really.

Noting her interest, Simon did his best to explain the systems to her. "If you want to know about anything, just ask. I'd be happy to serve as your guide."

"Thank you," she said softly. Perhaps things wouldn't be quite as hard as she imagined.

11/19/04

It was thanks to Lilem's information that Djerod planned a small excursion. He began the day by presenting her with a new dress. It was a lovely shade of blue that accentuated the color of Careli's eyes, the shade of her hair, and the softness of her skin.

"You'll need it where we're going," said Djerod cryptically. "I suggest you shower and let Sally do something with your hair." He kept tight-lipped about their destination.

So Careli showered, Simon on hand, and asked the feien if he had any further information. He did not. "I'm sorry, Careli, I really am, but I just don't go out of the closet enough to know what's going on the house."

"It's alright, Simon," said Careli, washing shampoo from her hair. Inwardly she wished Simon would make himself more useful in that regard, but she understood why he could not.

Afterwards, she went to Sally, for though she had no particular like for the woman, she followed the instructions given to her by Djerod. Sally seemed glad for the company. She was also quite adept at managing long hair.

"And yours is ever so nice to work with," said Sally as she scrunched it to give it more volume.

Careli put on her most innocent of expressions and asked, "Do you know where I'm going tonight?"

Sally smiled. "You'll enjoy it, I'm certain." She would say nothing more.

The afternoon passed by quietly. She only saw Djerod once more, which was suspicious, but he seemed in such good spirits she felt that whatever was planned was surely good. She passed the time imagining ice cream parties and fancy dinners. Why else the fancy dress?

And then it was time to get dressed. Emperial helped her, zipping up the back of the dress (Djerod, with his keen eye for detail, had ensured the fit was perfect) and tucking and tugging until everything was absolutely perfect. Careli started to leave the room, but Emperial suddenly shouted. "WAIT!" Careli turned in surprise and was rewarded with the click and flash of a camera. "To record the moment," grinned Emperial. The device whirred and spun and out came a white sheet which Emperial rubbed vigorously on her jacket.

When Careli saw the image, she flushed with upset. "I wasn't prepared!" she complained.

"Heh, it's camera verite!" said Emperial. "Or would that be fotografie verite?" Careli left Emperial to her pointless musings and tromped up the steps to the kitchen.

Her indignation had not abated by the time she reached the front door, but what she found there so surprised her she quite forgot about the camera incident. Djerod was waiting for her, dressed smartly in a full tuxedo, black pants, shoes and jacket, with white vest, bowtie and gloves. He extended a hand. "Shall we be off?"

Max and Sally were waiting in the car. Somewhere along the line Sally had found the time to do her own hair and dress: she was wrapped in dark red velvet with a fur stole and a delicate flower arrangement set into her silky brown tresses. Max looked slightly cleaner than usual, freshly shaved with black dinner jacket and pants and a white shirt with red cummerbund. Careli thought he looked positively scurrilous beside the immaculately-clad Djerod. She kept this observation to herself.

The vehicle for the evening was Max's beloved 1930s convertible. It was a polished egg white with red velvet interior that nicely complimented the classy attire of the group. Max and Sally sat in the front, forcing Djerod and Careli to take the rear seats.

"Where are we going?" said Careli, nearly breathless with excitement.

"Wherever the night takes us," said Djerod with a twinkle in his eye. It was clearly a lie, for any engagement requiring this level of preparation required a reservation. It was a commonly-known fact that one did not go to such lengths to prepare oneself for presentation when there was a chance of being left to stand outside in the cold and rain. Unless, of course, one was a remarkably famous star. Then one could do as one pleased and the doors would be opened and the carpets rolled out. Careli was quite certain that besides a particular streak of infamy present, there was no one in the group who necessitated such grandiose generosity on the part of businesses and establishments.

But it did serve the purpose of displaying a good deal of wealth, particularly from what little Careli knew about Earth cars. This one was very, very nice. Careli smiled.

First came a light dinner, which was hardly a surprise. Snacks and refreshments at a black tie (not that anyone objected to Djerod's white) restaurant called the Library. Even with the restaurant's upscale atmosphere their group turned heads. Careli had a fizzy fruit drink and several delicate crepes while the adults enjoyed a bit of wine. "No more than one cup," Djerod chided Max. "You are driving."

"And don't you forget it!" said Max. "I'll let you drive my car over my dead body."

Sally smiled, remarking, "If you drink anything more, darling, it just might come to that."

Djerod nearly choked on his Merlot with laughter. Max was considerably upset for about fifteen seconds, and then a plate of escargot and pearl onions arrived.

Once more, Careli tried to pry into the nature of their trip. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see soon." Djerod slipped a large gold pocketwatch from his jacket and checked the time. "In fact, it's about time we were leaving. Waiter, if you could bring us the check please?"

Then it was out the door again, on to their next stop.

Riding in Max's car was considerably more interesting than being in Emperial's Sentra. Careli enjoyed the sensation of the breeze in her hair and the looks of envy they garnered from the other drivers. She turned up her nose at vehicles she deemed to be of particularly poor quality and amused herself greatly in this manner until Djerod nudged her to get her to stop.

"I know you have better manners than that," he whispered to her. She gave a small pout, but he was indeed right, and her actions were in poor taste. She resigned herself to making snooty faces at the back of Max's sat.

Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time, they were there. The car spun round in a large circle around a fountain with four dancing angels and they disembarked. Careli gazed up in awe at the massive stone building before her. There seemed to be a thousand windows, several covered in ivy, and the building rose a good four stories above her. A man in a red and white striped vest took the car (at Max's considerable reluctance) and they proceeded up a set of broad stone stairs onto a pillared porch with a chandelier. This led into a richly upholstered lounge. There were dozens of impressively-dressed people milling about, but Careli rather thought their group was the finest, and for once this was not a mere whimsy on her part but a fact.

They didn't spend much time in the lobby. Djerod handed several slips of paper to a man in a red coat standing next to one of the doors. "Past the railing, third row, on the right," the man said. They shuffled through the doors and finally Careli was able to discern where they were.

It was an auditorium filled with hundreds of seats. A golden mural stretched out across the ceiling depicting figures in a garden. Careli was so fascinated by this sight she stopped where she was and simply stared up at it until Djerod gently nudged her forward to their seats.

"This is," whispered Careli, trying to take it all in. her eyes finally came to rest on Djerod, who was smiling.

"I take you approve?" he remarked. Careli nodded dumbly. "It was a bit of a trick to arrange this on such short notice, but the conductor is a personal friend of mine."

"The conductor?"

"Of the orchestra. Hieronym Ruszkowski."

There was a noise from the direction of the stage and Careli turned to see a single-file line of people carrying objects of varying sizes. They filtered into several rows of seats, apparently by type of object. A hush fell over the auditorium and the last of the people lingering in the lobby slipped inside.

A piercing noise assaulted Careli's ears, and then another, and another. She gave a small gasp. "It's a concert!" she exclaimed. Someone behind her hissed for quiet, but Djerod gave her arm a reassuring pat. She continued in a whisper, "They don't sound very good."

"They're tuning the instruments," Djerod explained. His voice was soft and quiet and did not carry far. "Those are stringed instruments, fairly primitive, which produce noise by vibrating strings of differing lengths and tensions. The tension can be adjusted to change the notes produced, and after playing the instruments, sometimes the tension slips just a bit. Adjustments are frequently necessary."

"Oh," said Careli, hoping the actual music created by the orchestra would be better than the dissonance of their tuning efforts.

Just then, a new figure stepped out onto the stage and the auditorium erupted into applause. "The conductor," said Djerod, leaning close to Careli's ear so she could hear him over the din. The applause fell away when the man reached his podium. He raised one hand into the air and suddenly the place was filled with music.

The suddenness of the change threw Careli back in her seat. The music was all around her, grandiose and overwhelming, expanding to fill every nook and corner of the humongous room. She realized after a moment that she had forgotten to breathe and hastily resumed.

Careli had been to concerts before, so the overall scheme of things was not unfamiliar, but there were several variations here that made the experience unique to her.
She chanced a glance at Djerod sitting next to her and found he was watching the orchestra with rapt attention. They were sitting close enough to make out the movements of the musicians, but not with any great precision. Careli mimicked her caretaker and observed as best she could. As the music progressed, she began to realize what sounds were coming from what instruments. The smaller string ones produced a tinny sort of sound, the larger ones were smoother and deeper. There were drums in the back, big booming ones, and silvery whistling tubes towards the front. The overall effect was very compelling. The musicians worked with one another under the direction of the conductor to weave complex melodies.

The first song came to a close and Careli opened her mouth to speak, only to realize everyone else in the room seemed to be holding their breath. There was a single cough and the orchestra started up again. Careli sank down into her seat and closed her eyes.

The music continued for some time. Careli lacked a chronometric device and was too respectful of the people around her to ask Djerod for a look at his, not that the archaic spinning system made much sense to her yet.

When it finally did come to an end, she was strangely exhausted, but desired more as the applause rose once again around her. People were standing to express their appreciation, Djerod included. Careli struggled up beside him and clapped her hands a few times. The ruckus seemed to continue for almost as long as the symphony itself had. Each section of the orchestra took a bow, the conductor last of all.

Afterwards they went behind the stage and met the conductor and the musicians and Djerod showed her each and every instrument. She learned that these were called violins, and those bigger one cellos, and there were oboes and cymbals and flutes.

"Do you play any instruments?" Djerod asked between explaining the French horn and the harp. Careli quickly shook her head. She vaguely remembered hearing live music played, along with vague thoughts of her parents, but her training at the Academy had not afforded her time to pursue such hobbies even if she'd had the inclination. Instead she could recite the complete history of the Jedi order and the galaxy at large. Fat lot of good that did her here. She felt like an idiot alongside these trained musicians.

The conductor seemed to agree. "What is this?!" he exclaimed. He was pear-shaped, with a weak chin, crazy dark grey hair bursting from his head, and black wireframe spectacles perched on his nose. He had an accent Careli could not identify. "She has come with you but cannot play? Who is this girl?"

"The daughter of a friend," Djerod said coolly, "who has recently come to stay with us." Careli could feel her ears burning.

"You have a rare opportunity, then, to be taught by such a master!" the conductor continued. "I am always saying, Lord Piett should be a world-class musician, but he does nothing with it. Nothing!"

"Rusz," said Djerod, using the conductor's nickname. "That sort of thing just doesn't suit me."

"Oh, but won't you play for us tonight?" That was the conductor's wife, Amanda Ruszkowski, a thin woman whose skin seemed to hang off her. She had a bright, friendly face, crinkled from too many smiles, and frizzy dark hair pulled into a knot. Careli spotted a tinge of grey matching the conductor's at the roots. She swooped into the conversation with the ease of one who has attended high-class social events most of her life.

"I'm not," Djerod started, only to have Sally jump in and drag Max along with her.

"But Admiral, you simply must," said Sally. Her immaculately painted lips drew into a seductive smile.

"Yes!" shouted Ruszkowski, waving his arms to snatch a violin form a player who had the misfortune to be within the conductor's arm reach. "You must show these people in my orchestra how it is done! Natalie, may I borrow your violin?"

"Um, certainly, sir," the frightened violinist squeaked. She sounded much like her instrument being tuned. Ruszkowski practically threw the violin at Djerod.

The Imperial officer looked at it a moment, considering. "I do prefer the cello," he said.

"Bah! You are as good at cello as violin as piano!" said Rusz.

"No, I should think not," said Djerod, and placed the instrument under his chin. "Not piano." He checked the tuning and began to play.

The whole of the room fell silent, just as it had for the actual symphony. The acoustics of the practice room were impeccable. Somehow, the sound of the violin filled the room completely. It was being immersed in music all over again.

At the beginning, still shamed by her earlier inadequacy, Careli kept her gaze firmly on the floor. As the song progressed, her eyes drifted upwards. It felt as if Djerod were playing the song just for her. When she finally dared to look at his face, she thought surely she would find herself in his gaze, but his eyes were closed.

It was not a long performance, but at the end of it there was applause. Djerod returned the violin to timid Natalie with a gentle smile. She blushed, amazed that such a sound had come out of her instrument, and resolved herself to practice harder.

The conversation among the adults continued for several minutes more before Djerod finally called it to a close. "We simply must be getting home. It is late."

"Next time, you join us for drinks," Mrs. Ruszkowski said assertively, and no one dared argue.

-----

It was late. Careli had not realized exactly how late until they left the concert hall and she saw the moon overhead. The car was brought around and she collapsed gratefully into her seat. Somewhere along the way, she lost consciousness, and regained it only momentarily when she was carried through the door. In that moment of half-consciousness she thought for sure she was carried by Djerod, but when her eyes fluttered she saw it was Max. She heard voices talking over her head. Confused, she drifted back off.

-----

"She's sleeping," said Sally. She had just returned from tucking Careli into bed. "As soundly as a baby. That was a bit much, it is nearly one in the morning, and she's usually down by ten... For that matter, so am I." Sally pulled the flowers from her head and her hair went spilling down across her shoulders. "Goodnight, Djerod. Max?"

Max suddenly snapped to alertness, having been busy staring at a spot on the wall of dubious existence. "Uh, yes, coming dear. Night, Djerod." The two of them headed upstairs.

Upstairs was Djerod's destination as well, but he lingered a moment in the living room. Careli's bed was directly beneath her feet and he could sense her sleeping presence on the edges of his perception. Comforted, he finally headed up the stairwell, planning his next step.

12/01/04

Careli stared at the stone. It was sitting in the middle of a little red velvet pillow, something Simon had felt might be useful in this situation. Careli couldn't figure out how.

And, quite frankly, neither could Simon. He was standing on the table near Careli's elbow rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe we're supposed to crack it open," she said.

"I think not. If that were the case Djerod would have done it already. He mentioned something ebout experiments, saying he felt they were rather too much condescending to the living creature within."

Careli thought about that. If it were her stuck in a stone, she wouldn't want to be poked and prodded, would she? But then she'd want to have someone trying to get her out. But was it up to her inside the stone or the people outside the stone to do that?

"You came from a flower, right, Simon?"

"Mm."

"Did you like it inside?"

Taking a deep breath, Simon considered. "I don't remember it very well. It was months and months ago. I suppose it's a bit like being born, which you can't remember, only I do have some memories. Mostly of Emperial's voice. It wasn't that she was saying anything in particular, but when I came out it was familiar."

Hadn't there been something on TV about that? "People say babies recognize voices," said Careli, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. That was fast becoming a recognizable habit for her.

"Then maybe it is the same," said Simon.

In addition to the small pillow they had requisitioned a desk lamp to illuminate the stone. It had the effect of a miniature spotlight, and the velvet pillow was the stage. If only the little chunk of hematite were interested in performing.

"Hm," said Careli.

"Hm," agreed Simon.

Careli fingered the journal in her lap, her journal, inside which both Simon and Djerod had recommended recording some sort of observations of the stone. "You said people experiment on feien blooms. Don't you know if feien like it?"

"Actually, I do have some data on the matter," said Simon. He seated himself down on the table and regretting not bringing a second pillow for his own benefit. "It really does depend on the feien. For most, simply a bit of attention can do no harm, but some blooms begin to wilt if they're not surrounded by the proper elements. Other times people want to know what's inside so badly they try to experiment to find out what. In one particular case, an offspring from my breeding with Yasha..."

It slipped out so suddenly he almost did not realize he had said anything, but the moment the name left his lips he felt suddenly uneasy. Simon swallowed quickly and coughed as if something had gotten caught in his throat. Careli was not fooled. He continued, "Though there was little chance the bloom would be something vastly different from the 'parents' so to speak, the bond decided to experiment. Every element imaginable. With each experiment the bloom shriveled more and more until... suffice to say the resulting feien was physically traumatized, and possibly mentally traumatized as well."

"There is also the case of Merrimack. Mind you, all of my information comes secondhand, I've never actually spoken to most of these folk, but I heard about it through Em..." And then he realized he had said a second painful name and stopped short. Mentally he kicked himself for his embarassing sentimentality. "Neko experimented on Merrimack's bloom and it reacted very badly. And then I heard of Shalafi, whose bloom was experimented upon..."

Careli nodded, watching Simon with clear blue eyes, making no judgment on his information or his emotional lapses. "Go on," she bade.

"Shalafi, who was summoned by Julius, was also damaged by the experimentation. He came out blind. Though there is some question as to whether or not that was due to the bloom mistreatment or Julius's questionable skills as a summoner. So out of all the feien, I can name you these three cases where experimentation was at the very least physically damaging to the feien, and possibly worse." He concluded his speech by adjusting his glasses.

Then he noticed that Careli was writing something in response. He tried not too look too curious.

"So you're of the opinion that experimenting on a living creature inside an object is bad?"

"Risky," said Simon. "Not necessarily bad, but without being able to speak with the occupant, there can be no knowing whether or not you are performing actions which the creature in question enjoys. I do concur with Emperial's postulation that attention and care is the best, safest route, that it has surely not harmed any feien, and that the feien who are given the most attention by their bonds generally turn out the best upon emergence, though that can change in later life."

Careli's pen continued scribbling away in English, that being the language she was expected to write in when using the journal (it was, in fact, a graded practice to help wean her from her current reliance on grammar- and spell-check). "And were you satisfied with the level of attention given to you as a flower? And the level since?"

Simon went cold. Careli had a way of asking the hard questions.

When he did not immediately answer, Careli continued, "Did the level of attention given during the bloom phase create in you an unrealistic expectation as to the level of attention you would receive as a juvenile and adult?"

Again Simon adjusted his glasses. "You have a very scientific mind," he said.

"Thank you," Careli replied, and continued to wait.

Finally Simon answered. "I would say that Em has given to me a fairly consistent level of attention, allowing me to do as I please but remaining present should I require her, but that I would enjoy her taking a greater interest in my affairs." He waited long enough in his reply to compose himself, providing Careli with a thorough response but impersonal delivery.

"Thank you," said Careli again, and resumed her writing.

Simon did not even glance at her journal now. His curiosity was gone.