Fae'en awoke with a start. He rolled to the left and tumbled with a small yelp as his body was no longer supported by any tangible surface. Landing clumsily on all fours, he pushed off with his hands and feet and cracked his head on a hard, wooden side-table. Standing, slightly dazed and mightily out of sorts, he assessed his surroundings.
Bed, table, chest, wardrobe... walls all wood? Floating castle has stone room...
A barely suppressed chuckle caused Fae'en to swing around to face the door. A giant of a Wood-Elf stood half in the doorway, his hand poised to knock on the frame and a smile playing at his features. Nevar.
"Food's ready. Better hurry if you want some."
Still slightly groggy, Fae'en grabbed his discarded clothes scattered about the room and followed the retreating back of Nevar, Gatekeeper of the Tashiri, and his mentor for the next few weeks. This was his house, Fae'en remembered, in the woods suspended on the giant floating rock that housed the Tashiri Order. It was good to be amongst the trees again. He made it to the kitchen, a simple affair consisting of a table, chairs, a stove and several cupboards. Aalrik was already there this morning and Fae'en grunted in greeting. He liked this as well, much more than the communal Mess Hall of the Order, no crowds of people, no sea of noise or smells, just the three of them.
"How's the head?"
Fae'en looked around to find Nevar holding a steaming plate of meat cuts and vegetables out to him. "Fine," he muttered before taking the tray, "thanks."
"You are welcome." Nevar responded before assembling his own plate. They sat and joined Aalrik at the table. He waited until they were all finished before speaking again. "Today we will begin your fury-crafting training, we will still continue with your regular training in the mornings, but after noon-meals we shall focus purely on your connections to the furies."
So it was. Fae'en trained under the caring gaze of Nevar and was daily awed and impressed in equal measure, not only by the elf's abilities, but by his compassion as well. Fae'en felt less like a student and more like a beloved offspring in greater proportion each passing day. It was not just his relationship with his mentor that improved over the course of his training, but that which he felt with the furies surrounding him developed in leaps and bounds as well. By the end of the third week of his time with the other two wood-elves, Fae'en had connected well enough with one of the myriad of furies around them that it began to manifest itself before his very eyes.
He and Aalrik were sharing a drink of water during a rest period, they were laughing, just joking around when it happened. A low creaking-cracking sound drew their attention downwards to see wood growing at a rapid pace, flowing and forming itself into a vague simian-like shape. Moss grew like fur over the being's surface as it's limbs took form, fingers and toes sprouting from their ends. A tail sprouted as the face took shape, small and grinning mischievously with glowing green eyes. It looked up at the two of them before leaping onto Fae'en's arm and clambering up to sit on his shoulder.
"Congratulations." The voice drifted out from the surrounding trees and made the two jump, so focussed were they on their new companion. The Gatekeeper stepped out from the shadow of a great elm and smiled at the pair. "Fae'en, your after-noon training will be centred around working with your new manifest. Now, seeing that the excitement is over, I guess it's time to get back to work. Fetch your bows and come to the target range."
A week later their time amongst the trees of the Talissariat came to an end, Aalrik and Fae'en had to return to the keep and their Qalm. It was with almost tearful goodbyes that the pair parted ways with the Gatekeeper, having been given a standing offer to return at any time. Fae'en swore he would do so at the earliest opportunity, after also promising to keep his manifest fury, Kikazaru, out of trouble as much he could. The wooden monkey gave him a playful swat to the back of the head with his tail for the comment and the group grinned. Fae'en had been encouraged to keep him around as much as possible to help with his training and to keep the two acclimatised to each other and he was honestly surprised at how he ever lived without the companionship before they'd come together.
It was with great regret that they left the forrest and returned to the Talissariat proper. Less than half an hour and already Fae'en was uncomfortable among the number of people confined within its walls. He made his way to 'his' room. In all honesty the stone-carved sleeping quarters had never felt as much his as the room in Nevar's house had. As he set about rearranging his living-space a peculiar feeling stole over the elf, a sense of anticipation began to stir within him. He paused in the act of standing the bed up against the back wall, his sheets having already been assembled into his preferred 'nest' in the corner by the armoire, and called Kikazaru to manifest himself. The green spider-monkey appeared and quickly assumed his place on Fae'en's shoulder.
"Feel that, Kika?" he asked the fury as it picked at something in his hair.
The monkey shrugged before whispering conspiratorially; "Grass is nervous."
"Huh?" Fae'en grunted in confusion.
"Thinks we're talking about it." Kikazaru continued.
"You are. What has that to do with this feeling?" Fae'en pointed out.
The fury shrugged again, "Don't know, ask others."
Fae'en shuddered, "Too many people. Passed over twenty just getting here."
Kikazaru turned his green eyes to look into Fae'en's own as he answered. "Good to be among your own kind."
"Aren't my kind... only a few of them." Came the terse reply.
"Know what I mean." Kikazaru frowned, the knotted whorls of his bark brows furrowing together.
"Alright," the elf sighed, propping the bed securely into the corner of the room opposite his sleeping nest. That done, he squared his shoulders and prepared to face the company of others when a familiar voice echoed through his head. Nesrin had summoned them, they had a mission.
Hurriedly donning his armour over the traditional Tashiri combat clothes, Fae'en grabbed his crossbow and quarrel from the armoire before giving one last glance around the room. "Just got it how I like it," he muttered, knowing full well it would once again be 'tidied' upon his return, and left for landing 9. His Qalm would be assembling there. His pack. His kind.
Kikazaru followed snickering, having stopped to scratch a rude drawing on the surface of the wooden door.
Last edited by darkreever; 12-02-12 at 06:17 AM.