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Xander Arrikanez:
Xander is the caretaker and friend to the Bloom. Xan is a very calm and quiet person, much preferring walks in the park with a sketchbook, to loud and rowdy parties. His constant companion is his Muse, who is never far from him. His is one of the "Elder" Arrikanez, holding the power to bring someone back to life with a kiss. But the power he must use wisely. It drains him so much, that it is only safe that he do it ONCE or TWICE per year.


Kelson:
Kelson is a Pixacat that just suddenly showed up on Xander's doorstep about three months AFTER being purchased. Seems he has a little spirit to him - and he's a firecat, too. So that's quite alright with Driesan.


Terris:
Terris showed up almost immediately after Kelson, and took an immediate liking to the shadow-feien child. He prefers cuddling, but when that's not available, he'll be content to just sit back and watch. He's a very calm and cool cat.

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[Who May Post Here]

Prolixity
Sarabi Adruenna
RikProwley
Jiora
Correu Arrikanez
Any and all Norgies
Any and all Feien owners
Any and all Fa'e owners
wju2004

A'siir kal de nher, si loah,
A'siir kal de nher,
Nehta al me kai, si loah,
Aeh kehr tel mer nal

If you were a rose, my child
If you were a rose,
Water would embrace you, my child,
And the life within you flow.


Xander walks from the window to the opposite side of the room. In his hands rests a slightly-wilted, and shivering softly Bloom. Obviously the sunlight didn't do much for it. He looks a little sad, and strokes the leaves of the plant softly, humming to it a lullaby of sorts, though there are no words on this earth to put to the tune. He sets the flower gently on a pillow on his desk specifically for the purpose, and pulls out the red-leather journal again, sighing as he opens it ones more, caressing the blank page flat, starting to write in that same fluid, flowing cursive script.



He looks over at the shivering Bloom, and caresses the leaves with his fingers, gently.
"It will be alright, little one. I will find what you like."
He looks back down at the journal, and sets pen to paper again.



He sighs, and sets the pen down for another moment or so, shielding the Bloom from sunlightly with his own hands, and scooping it up, setting it on a small shelf UNDER his desk, which is a wrap-around. No light can possibly get to the Bloom under there. He takes up his pen, and writes again.



He sighs, and closes the journal softly, opening the drawer in which the journal is stored, and setting it, and the pen alongside it, within, closing the drawer, and actually getting UNDER the desk, sitting there, watching his Bloom in the dark, and hoping to every god out there that he does NOT screw this up...

~ Sun's Warmth~

The day was cool, crisp, and clear, and the bright light of morning shone through the drawn curtains to trace a line down Xander’s face. His Feien, Driesan, slept on a small bed on the dresser next to Xander’s. The entire dresser was now considered “his” – and his few possessions were strewn on it. The bed was a bed grabbed from a doll’s accessory pack. It was just the feien’s size, and two squares of fabric [velvet and cotton] cut out of Xander’s clothing made the perfect sheet and blanket. Drie was, of course, still sound asleep, snoozing lazily as his father was. When said father began to get up, and push the covers off, going to get dressed, and ready for the day, Driesan groaned, and buried his head under the pillow.
Xander emerged from the bathroom a couple moments later, fully dressed, and ready to start the day, as he always was, promptly at 6:30 AM. Drie, however, was NOT an early riser… though he supposed he best learn to be if his father was one. Only natural that his ways follow Xander’s. He could understand getting up at… oh, say… eight-ish. THAT was a reasonable time. Not o’dark-thirty in the morning when the SUN wasn’t even up yet. Speaking of which… He peeked his face out of the covers, and watched Xander sit down to write again. The man was trying to become a novelist. His book was about a boy who could read the future and past alike in the way they sun fell on the earth. It was utter nonsense, but a good read, and Drie liked sitting on Xander’s shoulder, and watching him write. Weighing the love of being with Xander… to the love of a nice warm bed… he chose Xander, and pushed the covers away, wearily casting “Flight” on himself, and joining his father.
Xander was busily letting another chapter of the book flow from his head to his hands to the pen and paper. He wrote at a decent speed, but slow enough for the feien seated on his shoulder to read. Sometimes, Xander paused to look at Drie, a smile coming across his features before he took up the pen, and started writing again. Drie read along, watching the words flow.



Driesan yawned a little as Xander let his hand drop by his side to rest it. There was not a lot he could do once he got “into” the creative mood, BUT write, draw, and paint. All of which was pretty tiring for the wrists. After a few moments of resting the wrist, Xander brought his hand up to begin writing again. Drie still felt sleepy from lack of said activity, but he read along with just as much fervor as before.



Driesan felt himself suddenly borne along with the words, as if they were living things, pulling him and twisting him around and around in a sea of ink. The world went black… then white… then silver… then gained clarity. He was laying on his back with the stern face of an older girl – but still a teen – over him. He could feel that there were wounds on his back that felt like whip-marks, and his shirt was off, and being waved in front of his face to try and cool him off.
“’Ey lazy bones! You got chores need done! What you fainting for, hmm?”
Drie got up, and brushed himself off. The sky was clear and calm, and his horse stood over him with an expression of utter confusion, so humanlike it made him and his sister alike laugh out loud. The day was going his way once, and his father wasn’t out to yell at him. Or even worse, try and ban him from the village. He knew the ways of his people, and he respected them. He just… had more of an attachment to the less sacred of times. Day. In the way his sister was laughing, it was clear she did too. A “normal” person’s laugher during the day would be scared, almost a whimper of apology to the great Sun for showing one’s face in the daylight hours. No – his people where the children of the Moon. And as her children, worshipped her, and avoided her brother, the Sun whenever possible. All of which would explain why his easy laughter, and his being out and about in the twice-bright sun, was getting him looks of mistrust and disbelief. Not that their looks ever said much of anything else.
“We’ve got to get back home, Lesi… or else dad’s going to have YOUR head, and my…”
She smacked him upside the head before he could say another word.
“That’s QUITE enough out of you, young man.”
What he had been about to say WAS vulgar and crude, but it wouldn’t have been far from the truth his dad had a way with… things.
“If you don’t get off your scrawny behind, and get home, not only is dad going to have our body parts, but mom’s going to throw a fit the size of the full moon. And you KNOW everyone’s going to know if she does.”
Drie gave it to his sister. She knew how to threaten. He sighed, and rose to his feet, trudging back towards the house with a heavy heart. He wasn’t looking forward to even MORE of his father’s tedious chores. He was sure the man gave them to him just to keep the boy out of his hair. A depressing thought.
Outside, the sun shone in a fierce light, bathing the lands below it with the heat of its anger…

Driesan awoke, perched on Xander’s shoulder. That had been almost TOO real! Thank whoever runs the show that it had only been a dream. Watching Xander write had pulled his imagination along with the flow of the book, and sent him into a dreamscape where the book and it’s characters and concepts, were very real. And Drie had been playing the part of Keldar, the main character. That in itself was only understandable, as he couldn’t possibly have know what was going on in other characters’ heads – only the one that Xander chose to write about. Xander didn’t even appear to have realized that his feien had fallen asleep. Or maybe he had. Driesan didn’t know any of this. All he knew was that he was still tired.. and “chores” were waiting to be done in his dreamscape. If his dreams were going to center around Xander’s characters in the book, then so be it. He yawned, and leaned against Xander’s neck, slipping off into the land of the Moon-worshippers again, dreaming of fantastic adventures that had LESS to do with “chores” – and more to do with heat and the sun.

Xander studied his sleeping son for a moment, and let a light smile play on his lips. Carefully, he got up, and walked back to the feien’s “bed”, transferring Driesan from his shoulder to the bed, and pulling up his covers around his shoulders. Poor, tired little thing. He’d let him sleep for a bit. He had nowhere to go, and his book needed writing. He scooped up the journal he had been using to write in, and a spare pen, moving back to his OWN bed, and writing there. Looking over and checking Drie every once in a while to make sure he wasn’t having a nightmare.

Driesan hissed in displeasure as he looked at the date. It was SUNDAY - Xander had been sleeping for TWO days now. Oh, alright... one and a half... but still. If his caretaker didn't move soon, Drie was going to start getting worried. As it was now, he was slightly ticked off, and just a little worried. He wasn't worried enough to panic yet. That was a hard level to get to, and it hadn't been reached yet. While Driesan DID fly in and check on Xander every so often, the man's condition didn't change.
On his back, on his bed, eyes closed. He didn't even have the covers pulled around himself. If Drie didn't know any better, he'd probably assume Xander was dead. But no, he saw him breathing... so WHY was the man stretched out like a throw rug, and WHY had he been so for one and a half days?! He was going to have to drop by to visit the others by himself at this rate. Not only to visit, but to get help. No one should be out cold for that long. Driesan would have pulled the covers up, but he wasn't NEARLY that strong. And besides - there were other things to worry about. Like his breathing [which was a little shallow from what the feien could tell]. He hoped to meet up with the other feien, and their guardians. Maybe SOMEONE could help? Xan looked like he needed it.

Wonderful picture drawn by Prolixity!

Changes can clear one's mind,
Or make one's mind insane,
It's all in how we perceive,
Like all our loss and gain.

It had been merely a week since Xander's transformation. While he wasn't all that thrilled to find himself turned into a white cat, he was quickly adjusting to the new appendages of tail and wings, as well as the difference in finger length. His eyes were something he was still getting used to, however. It still freaked him out whenever he saw himself in the mirror, one eye black and white, the other in living color... err... rainbow color. The difference in his demeanor wasn’t that apparent, though he DID feel calmer and such than he had been a few weeks prior to the transformation. He also was more inclined to write – though holding the pen in paw was a skill he hadn’t yet mastered. He’d decided to scrap the one book idea in favor of a bunch of short-stories, most of them featuring people he knew in situations he made up. Some of them featured his two sons, Inoru and Driesan. Though the boys hadn’t yet seen their roles yet, he had a feeling that once they read the stories, they were going to laugh…Which brought up another interesting dilemma: Printing books small enough for Feien to read.
That wouldn’t be too much of a problem, seeing that Xander’s body wasn’t the only thing that had changed. He was also far more powerful in magic, and had a much higher tolerance for malignant spells. It was going to be much harder to harm him from now on – though healing spells were still of null effect on his ailments and injuries. He supposed it was a side-effect of being born… well… an Arrikanez.

Driesan, meanwhile, was busy as a bee, flitting here and there, doing chores and such, as well as extra things for Xander when he couldn’t remember or figure out how to do them. Walking was getting easier, but the feien still acted as a scout to make sure nothing was in the way of Xan’s feet…err… paws. When everything went as it should, Xander could make it down a flight of steps in a few minutes – less than it would have taken him had he known how to walk on these legs. Though he DID admit they were built better for speed than his other legs. Driesan was still a tad worried. He made sure Xander took his medication in the evenings and the painkillers in the morning, and made sure that he did the wing exercises daily. Some day, Xan might have to USE those wings…
At any rate, with his guardian healing rapidly, Driesan was kept on his toes daily, re-teaching Xander anything he could remember that the other needed to know. Due to his size, this was a rather daunting task, and took up most of the feien’s facilities in the mental department.

It wouldn’t be too much longer until the feien and his guardian fell into sort of a rhythm, knowing what to do, when, where, and why. It wasn’t too hard to guess what came next for either of them, and they were in something of a rapport together. Not to the extent of actually knowing the other’s verbal thoughts… but to the very extent of knowing where the other was going to be at a certain point and time, knowing and being there too to help. It was starting to get better between them – no fights, no arguments… just being there for each other.

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