Aerie stared in dismay at the two creatures in front of her. The first appeared to be some sort of fey: a tiny girl with wooden skin and orange butterfly wings sprouting from her back flittered around the room joyfully. She even had antennae growing from her green hair to complete the image of a nature spirit.
The second was less attractive. A squat beast sat on the floor glumly, looking at everything it beheld with contempt. It resembled a small human vaguely, but its features melted together like wax so that it appeared squished and ghoulish. Its dull grey skin was rubbery and thick, ending in sharp claws on paws and feet. It face was the strangest feature, as Aerie believed it to be a distorted version of Xan’s countenance, ignoring the piggish nose and beady eyes. She wondered if the fairy would have her features imprinted on its form.
“Ajantis,” Xan asked with overemphasized patience, “what scroll did you use in the ritual? The one we substituted for the cursed one?”
The paladin shrugged helplessly. “I grabbed the first one I could find in your pack.”
The elf grumbled to himself and, stepping over the inert creature on the floor, searched his backpack. “As I thought,” he surmised. “I’m missing a scroll of summon familiar. These were summoned to us while we were inside the mirror.”
“But there are only two,” Ajantis pointed out confusedly. “And three of us.”
Xan gave an enormous sigh which captured the attention of the squat familiar on the floor for some time. “You have no innate magical talent,” he explained. “So the spell wouldn’t notice you. It only summons familiars for wizards such as Aerie and myself.” He bent to pick up the ugly familiar. “And as familiars are permanent, there’s no way of getting rid of them.” He dodged several bites from the creature. “Come here, you stupid animal!”
Aerie heard a scream echo throughout the room and whirled to see its source. Xan and Ajantis looked at her strangely. “Who screamed?” she asked them.
The paladin and elf exchanged glanced. “I did not hear anything, my lady,” Ajantis replied. “Are you feeling quite well? Perhaps you and your new familiar should rest. It has been a long day.”
Aerie ran a hand through her hair and agreed. “Come along,” she waved to the fairy, but the flying creature ignored her. “Come on!” she insisted more forcefully. She grabbed at it but it evaded her capture.
Xan bent his head as if in pain and received concerned glances of his own. “Let me guess, you didn’t hear that scream, did you?” Aerie and Ajantis shook their heads. “Why did I ever take up adventuring?” he wondered as he reached again for the immobile familiar.
Aerie heard the scream again, but this time a garbled message coursed through the noise. There were no words, but a general idea passed through the sound, like images flashing into her mind. Something was asking for her protection and help. “Where are you?” she asked out loud.
She looked at the fairy but the creature ignored her glance. Searching further in the room, her eyes brushed past the ugly thing Xan was unsuccessfully handling. Its beady eyes locked with hers and she let out her breath in a rush.
“Xan,” she whispered. “Xan!”
“What?” he growled. Several scrapes marred his hands from the beast’s teeth and claws.
“I think you’re trying to take my familiar,” she said, still whispering. She gazed at the creature with horror and revulsion. How could she be burdened with such a thing? It obviously better suited the depressed Xan than her. The bright fairy was more to her tastes.
“Yours?” he demanded with a snide laugh. “Don’t tell me that the little giggle fairy over there is mine, then.” He pointed at the sprite zooming around the room in a fit of wild laughter. The tiny being landed upon his outstretched hand and waved at him. “Oh no,” he muttered in dismay. “You can’t be my familiar.”
The fairy must have answered telepathically, for he nodded slowly. “I can hear you. But that doesn’t mean-” He listened to what appeared a one-sided conversation. “Familiars reflect their masters,” he explained to the fairy angrily. “You are nothing like me!”
It was Ajantis who found a solution to this dilemma. “We were all in the mirror when they were summoned, right?” The mages nodded. “Then you must have still been separate from your real bodies. The familiars couldn’t find your right bodies and got mixed up.”
“There must be something we can do to reverse it,” Aerie said hopefully. She still stared at the ugly creature before her. It scratched its back lazily.
“Familiars are bound for life,” Xan reiterated. “The only way we’re getting rid of them is if we kill them.” Both creatures squealed and raced from the elf in terror. “We’re not going to!” he shouted exasperatedly. “We’ll be hurt, as well, if you die. There is a strong connection between wizard and familiar; if you die, we will be permanently weakened.”
The fairy had regained enough courage to approach Xan once more. It settled on his shoulder and hugged his neck lovingly. “I love you,” it spoke it an almost inaudible tone. Flowers and sunshine seemed to resonate in the voice.
“Get off of me!” Xan yelled in disgust. The fairy merely giggled and clung tighter.
Aerie faced a similar problem. Her familiar grasped her leg ferociously, refusing to let go no matter how hard she shooed it away. She tried to take a step back but tripped over the attached creature and fell to the floor. “What are we going to do?” she wailed.
Ajantis was trying hard to control his laughter, but as Aerie tumbled to the ground he burst out guffawing. “I’m…sorry my…lady,” he gasped between laughs. “I…cannot help…myself.”
Aerie scowled and got to her feet unsteadily. Reluctantly, she gathered her familiar in her arms and cradled it as a child. “Do you have a name?” she asked it.
It snarled negatively. Apparently this one couldn’t speak as the fairy could.
“Then you’ll need one,” Aerie said. “I can’t call you ‘familiar’ all the time, can I?”
The ugly creature shrugged apathetically and began to doze.
“I’ll call you Quayle for now,” she decided, making the best of things. She would have to get along with her new companion if they were to be bonded for any length of time. “Do you like that?” Quayle ignored her, his eyes half shut.
“Name me! Name me!” the fairy shrieked, launching from Xan’s shoulder to circle his head eagerly.
“How about irritating nuisance?” he growled.
The fairy tried it out. “Iraterry nusie!” she yelled with vigor.
Xan slapped his forehead.
“Iraterry nusie!” the fairy giggled as she zipped around the room. “Iraterry nusie!”
Aerie frowned. “You can’t name her that. No one will take her seriously.”
“Do you think they would anyway?” Xan countered.
“How about…” Aerie scrunched her face in concentration. The fairy’s voice kept interrupting her thoughts. “How about Iranie?” she suggested, linking the two repeated words.
“Iranie! Iranie!” the fairy yelled as she spun around.
“Fine, whatever,” Xan said grumpily. “She’ll always be an irritating nuisance in my mind.”
Iranie hovered next to Xan’s cheek and kissed him sweetly. He swatted at her but she flew away shrieking with laughter.
Quayle snored loudly and Aerie shared his sentiment. “I’m going to turn in early,” she announced. “I can’t take anymore surprises today.” She excused herself and went back to her room.
Jaheira sat on her bed when Aerie came in. “Ah, I was hoping to talk to you,” Jaheira said. Then she saw Quayle. “What in Silvanus’ name is that?” she cried. “Drop it, child, before it hurts you!”
Aerie smiled tiredly. “Jaheira, meet Quayle.” She sat down and explained the day’s events to the druid, ending with Quayle and Iranie’s arrival. “So we’re going to be together for quite a while,” she concluded, placing Quayle in a blanket-lined basket to the side of her bed. He snorted and continued his nap. She stroked his small body and smiled. “He’s kind of cute,” she said kindly.
“Hmm.” Jaheira wasn’t as convinced of Quayle’s good qualities. A loud sound emerged from the basket followed by a wave of stench. “Nature preserve us!” Jaheira gagged and opened a window.
“Oh, Quayle!” Aerie fretted and fussed over the basket. She rocked the basket to ease the familiar. “There, do you feel better now?”
The fresh air revived Jaheira somewhat and she glanced at Aerie hovering over the makeshift cradle with surprise. The young elf was adapting to the role of mother quickly, faster than Jaheira would ever have suspected. Perhaps the girl was more capable than she credited.
“Aerie,” she motioned for Aerie to sit next to her once Quayle was settled. Uncertainly, the girl obeyed.
“Yes, Jaheira?” she asked, eyes on the floor.
Jaheira started to tell the girl to sit up straighter and look at her, but Valygar’s warning face came into focus and she shut her mouth. “Child,” she began again. “No, not child: Aerie. You have proven your worth to this group many times over. You have powers that most do not and handle them well. I know I have not been the most enthusiastic about your joining the group.”
Aerie looked slightly crestfallen at this, but Jaheira plowed on painfully. “But I know better now. I am…glad you are here and will try to show that more often. You are a woman, not a child, and I must respect that.” Aerie tried to speak up but Jaheira shushed her. “Not now, I am not done.” She saw Aerie’s put upon expression and stared at her blankly. “What is the matter?”
Aerie laughed and hugged the druid. “Thank you,” she whispered into the other woman’s shoulder. “I h-haven’t had many friends in my life, and those were mostly other workers in the circus.”
“Now,” Jaheira said, separating herself from the girl and sizing her up, “stop slouching, it makes you look weak. And try to speak clearly, no one wants to strain to understand you.”
“Jaheira?” Aerie interrupted. “I don’t mean to complain, but friends don’t judge other friends. I don’t need someone to tell me what to do, I need someone to talk with on the same level.”
“I am not judging you,” Jaheira retorted, slightly spurned. What were friends for if not to show each other’s flaws? “I am helping you.”
The elf girl pressed her lips together. “Well, you could find a nicer way to say things,” she pointed out. “Maybe if you weren’t so harsh people wouldn’t be afraid of you.”
“Afraid of me?” Jaheira demanded, and Aerie shrunk back. Tybalt had said much the same thing earlier; maybe there was some truth in the thought, though obviously not much. “I can be…”
“Intimidating,” Aerie supplied.
“Imposing,” Jaheira suggested, “but the only people who need fear me are those who threaten the balance. You needn’t be wary around me, Aerie.”
“Let’s make a deal,” Aerie said. “I’ll make an effort to listen to your advice instead of ignore it, and you focus on coming across more tactfully. We’ll help each other.”
“That is one of the more intelligent things I’ve heard you say, girl,” Jaheira approved. “Though I would not say I lack tact. It is not my fault if others do not know how to deal with reason and sense.”
“Of course,” Aerie said, holding back her laughter.
