UTOPIAN WISH

-BY: LIRA-CHAN-

-NOTE:- Before the story... The usual rant. First, and most important- THIS WILL BE SLASH. That means relationships with two males, got it? Good. Not your cup of tea? Don’t read it. I’m writing this in first person, which is a change for me, and in two parts, five chapters each. In the first part, one of the main characters is only six, so not much going on romantically for the first five chapters. Just so that’s clear. For the second part, he will be sixteen (interpret that how you will).

Quick note about the title- I antagonized over naming this for a while. I still don’t know if I like it. But this story is a spin on fairy godparents, where the “fairies” or “Mysians” work for an organization trying to create a sort of utopian society. Nice, right? Also, fairy godparents grant wishes. “Utopian Wish.” Silly, ne? Anyway, before the story, love to my best people on the web. You guys know who you are. Everyone- enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE: MEETING

--//SIWA\\--

Alright. Deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out... It’s not like there’s anything for me to be stressing out about, right? It’s just the first assignment I’ve gotten in years and one of the worst co-workers a guy could ask for. What could go wrong? They say “dress to impress,” but do I really want to impress Faial of all people?

One more deep breath and we’re going in. Into the lair of the Faial-demon. Maybe today she’ll resist the urge to make fun of my clothing. Robes are unisex! And they’re comfy! I think she said once that she liked yellow... My eyes are yellow. Actually, I always insist that they’re gold, but most everyone just laughs at me. Stupid prudes... I thought women liked sensitive men! Not that I really care. I’m a Mysian, anyway. And I wore the goldenrod robes. Maybe Faial will approve. They flatter my eyes.

Okay, I really need to get in there already. I kind of need this assignment. I haven’t had an assignment in almost six years. Not since... Not since... Well, it’s a touchy subject, but the last human brat I was playing Guardian-Mysian for... She just didn’t like me, alright? If she hadn’t been so rude then I wouldn’t have... Well, like I said, it’s a touchy subject. At least the brat lived. They didn’t have to put me on probation for five years. Damn those corporate busybodies in KADI... Oh, I shouldn’t be thinking that. Not before going to visit Faial, at least. She’s one of those corporate busybodies- I mean, she’s one of those corporate-folk. The ones that give us mere Guardians our jobs.

So. Faial’s door. Looks just like it always had- little plaque with her name on it and everything. I wish I had an office with a little plaque with my name on it. Faial just doesn’t know how good she has it. Only one thing to do. Reach out my hand. Grasp the brass doorknob firmly. Turn. And away we go.

I pushed the wooden door open gently, poking my head in and looking around. There was Faial. She was sitting in her chair at her desk with her back to the door. Completely unaware of how great her life was. I just burned with envy. I might be a softie, but I’m not naïve, and I’d say that she was only in such a fine position because she sucked our boss off... Except our boss is kind of a girl, so there isn’t much to suck. Erm... Not that I would know. If I caught Maoke en naturale, she would probably eat my alive. I love Maoke to death; she is so much trendier than Faial... But get that woman mad and your life is over. But enough daydreaming about tying Faial up and drowning her in my swimming pool, in order to take her job and her fancy little office. I needed to get that assignment. And I love the human brats, right?

“Fay-ee-alllll!” I called loudly, probably shocking the witch out of whatever naughty thoughts she had been thinking. She may look all prim and proper, what with her neat little bun and human clothing, but I know how her mind works. No, it’s not Maoke’s gender that ruled sexual favors out. It was Maoke herself. The woman looks sweet, but she’s intimidating.

“Yes, Siwa?” Faial snapped back, spinning her little wheel-y chair about and giving me A Look. Oooh, I am so scared. Not. Faial’s still a witch. “So you showed up for your assignment after all, huh?”

“Of course I did, Faial-love,” I purred, gliding into room and moving over to her desk. Oh, am I hot. Ha. Faial and her nasty fantasies might not think so, but I knew better.

“You’re not going to scar this child for life, are you?” she asked sweetly, voice laced with an acid touch. Damn the witch. She knew just what to say, didn’t she? The incident with the little girl had been an accident. And I’ll have them know that I don’t even like girls.

“Of course not,” I replied smoothly, resisting the urge to grit my teeth. Mustn’t let the witch get to me. “Are you going to tell me who the lucky child is, or am I supposed to read your mind?”

“Patience, patience,” Faial hummed. “And no, actually, I’d like to keep my thoughts private. If you’ll just wait a minute, I’ll show you his picture.”

His? So it was a boy. Thank the Powers, it was a boy! I could probably handle a boy... I just don’t like girls. Not my fault that I’m prettier than they are. I have Mysian good looks. But I can handle boys. All they do is look at me funny, like they’ve never seen a tawny-eyed Mysian in golden-yellow robes before. Is it the clothes? The eyes? The hair? I know I’m hot, but they don’t have to stare. It’s probably the hair. Yes, definitely the hair. They’re envious of my lovely, leaf-green hair, what with its stylish silver streak. I knew it all along.

“Time’s a-wasting,” I muttered, when Faial didn’t seem to be making with the pictures quickly enough. She probably zoned out again, envisioning Maoke nude or something. I may be just an ordinary Guardian, but I’m no pervert like Faial. The boss of all people. She thinks I’m joking about the mind reading thing. It’s no joke. I’ve seen the inside of her warped little brain before, and trust me, it’s not pretty.

“Got it!” Faial said, doing something with her hands in midair. I could do that. I don’t see why she’s the exec, and I’m the lowly Guardian doing her grunt-work. But there it was. The image of a little boy popped into place, hovering effortlessly.

Hmm. So that was him? He was an alright-looking kid; perhaps he was the studious type, what with the serious set to his jaw and all. And his eyes! Dark, dark brown eyes, or maybe they were black, but whatever color they were, they were both serious and curious. This was a smart kid. Other than that... A mop of brown hair and some sort of navy uniform. For school? At least the uniform wasn’t too bad; it could have been worse. It could have been green and orange. Plaid.

“Alright,” I agreed, nodding, snapping, and making the quaint little photo vanish. I could recall it for myself, if I had to. “The rest of the info. Where’s the brat live?”

“You’d better not call him a brat to his face,” Faial warned, but she and I both knew that the term “brat” was only a matter of course with me. The kid would never hear of it. I have trouble with girls, I admit, but once the little gentlemen get over my choice in fashion, they love me. I could win this snot-face over blindfolded, and with only half my magick! “Anyway, the town’s Monrovia. He lives in the residential district- there’s only one, and his school is called...”

At about that point, I zoned out. Faial knows that I never listen to her horribly tedious speeches, but she never says anything, because the witch wants me to get in trouble. To mess up. Ha! I’ve got her beat. My memory is really wonky; I don’t have to actually process information, just overhear it, and I’ll be able to use it later. Like a human data bank. Or rather, a Mysian one. Input the deets, and I’ll output them on command.

“Alright, but what’s the brat’s name?” I asked, when Faial’s speech had finally wound to its close. And I was right. She’d left the name out on purpose, hoping I’d forget to ask. I may be a bit scatterbrained, but I’m not stupid. Silly witch.

“Anshan,” she forced out, between gritted teeth. Oooh, she knew I had her. And I had her good.

“I guess I’ll just be going now,” I chirped happily, backing away from the desk. For the next however many years, this poor, neglected child would be my charge. It would be my responsibility to keep him happy and healthy. Parents? Who needs them! Guardians do it with magick! That, and KADI had us bound. That is... The “Kinship and Dependence Institute” had my hands tied. That’s right, hippies aren’t just a human thing. They exist in Mysia, too, and I was stuck working for them. The bunch of goodie-goodie, tree-hugging wanks. “Kinship and Dependence”- translates into “Siwa is now your magick slave. Use him well.” But I loved it. Really, I did. I love children. “But what do you think of the robes, Faial? The goldenrod? Isn’t it grand?”

I executed a tight little spin for her, stopping and smiling winningly. She and her dirty little mind would love it, no matter what Faial said. I’m not a complete softie. I know she’s now envisioning Maoke, violet hair everywhere, golden robes slipping off of slender shoulders... Faial read like a book.

“Oh, they look very feminine,” Faial complimented nastily. “Almost as fruity as the puke-green ones from last week.”

Yes, the witch was trying to make me cry. Sniff, sniff. Too bad I was ready for her, this time. Baiting Faial was the most entertaining of sports.

“Why thank you, Faial,” I said, with sugary-sweet sarcasm. “I’ll just leave you to that image of our boss slipping this number off of her shoulders and down to her hips. You know it’s going to cling there. She’s hot for you, Faial. Hot.”

I growled to punctuate the last “hot,” smiling with pure bliss at Faial’s horror-stricken expression. Didn’t know I skimmed that charged image off the top of her thoughts, did she. Guardianship had its perks. My magick was so much more useful than hers.

“Later, Faial!” I chirped again, waving cheekily. Time to locate the brat, and get into character as Simpering Guardian Siwa, version four. I’m actually a nice person, really, I am. Faial just brings out the worst in me.

With a final smile for the witch herself, I vanished. The teleportation aspect of our magick was perhaps the most difficult to understand, but it was the easiest to use. No longer want to be in a given place? Just envision a location you’d rather be frequenting, release the internal magick dam, and you’re gone. Out went the lights, and I was history.

--//SIWA\\--

Vanishing with the darkness, reappearing with the light, and Simpering Siwa Four was airborne. Hey, if a Mysian wants to fly, then a Mysian wants to fly, and what else are wings for? Hovering two hundred feet above the ground, Anshan’s little two-story house was just a tiny little toy to me. Considering my usual bumbling manner, one wouldn’t suspect that I, Siwa, would be a navigational master. Yes, I could bring a person to any location with ease, to a specific spot, and on my first try, too! It might not sound like much, but not all Mysians were as gifted as I. In other news... The house was right down there, so what was I doing up here? The wings snap in, the Mysian plummets, and in seconds I alight, light as a breath, upon the fresh green grass outside Anshan’s house. Oh, and someone’s been doing their gardening. Grass almost as green as my hair.

Time to go see the brat. But was I ready? One Mysian Guardian, commonly known as Siwa, aged to perfection at ninety-three years of age. But nonsense, I don’t look a day over seventeen. No visible wings, either. But wait... Seventeen? And this kid was what, six? That wouldn’t do. I would probably freak him out, if I appeared before him looking like my usual self. Something would have to be done about appearances.

A simple snap of the fingers, and everything was fixed. If he looked like he was six, then I would look as if I were six. A six-year-old Siwa. Who would have thought? And the same unruly green hair as when I truly was six... Couldn’t get that next of tangles to lie down, not ever. The robes, though, could do with a little magical tailoring... And everything was perfect. If the little brat didn’t just die for me as his Guardian, then I would resign from my post. What next? Another snap of my fingers. And I was inside Anshan’s bedroom.

I was inside Anshan’s bedroom, and looking around. It wasn’t as if I had been expecting anything in particular... And yet what I saw still wasn’t what I had been expecting. The room was fairly ordinary. For a six-year-old boy, that is. Little boy bed with little boy bed sheets, the kind that were blue with rocket ships on them. In addition to the bed, there was a night table, bookshelf, and dresser- how quaint. The four pieces of furniture were all part of a set, I was sure. The rest of the room... Also ordinary enough. Blue rocket ship carpeting, plain white walls with their rocket ship wallpaper. White ceiling with its plastic, glowing, stick-on stars. I wondered if the kid even cared for outer space. Perhaps the brat’s mother had just decided that a theme would be nice.

Well, no matter how thematic the room, it just wasn’t smart to stand around gawking in another person’s house. What if they came in and saw you? My worst nightmares were coming to life; there I was, a strange little green-haired kid in another kid’s bedroom, and there was a hand on the doorknob. Hopefully it would be the kid, Anshan, and not the brat’s parent. The Powers could handle that one little request of mine, couldn’t they? Obviously they could. The door swung open, and there the brat stood, life-sized and in Technicolor. I guess I must have surprised him, just standing there in his room? Did I look funny? I couldn’t look funny! Faial was the only one who got me worked up over my appearance- this little snot-face would not see me in tears! Time to go into damage control.

“Hi! You’re Anshan, right?” I asked cheerfully. Oooh- squeaky little six-year-old voice. Nasty. I hadn’t sounded like that in decades. I had been proud of not sounding like that for all of those years- what I wouldn’t give to be back in fully-grown Mysian form.

“Y-Yeah. Who are you?” the kid asked. At least he wasn’t too freaked. And I was getting into this; he was a cute kid. This was why I resented KADI those five years without assignments. I really, truly loved the children. Even if I thought of them as snot-faced brats.

“I’m Siwa,” I chirped happily, in squeaky, Siwa, six-year-old voice. “I’m your Guardian, and your new friend. Don’t freak out- we’re gonna have fun.”

--//ANSHAN\\--

“I’m Siwa. I’m your Guardian, and your new friend. Don’t freak out- we’re gonna have fun.”

Don’t freak out? How couldn’t I freak out! This was my room, and, and… Who was this strange Siwa, who had the nerve to just walk in here like he owned the place? Wait… How could he have gotten in here? Mother couldn’t have let him in… Could she? Maybe she was trying to help me make friends again. Maybe she had found out that I still didn’t have any friends at school. The kids there just weren’t nice. They weren’t nice at all.

“How did you get in here?” I heard myself ask, also hearing the suspicion in my voice. I was curious, but… But… He didn’t have to know that. If he was from school then he would just laugh at me.

Wait… He wasn’t from school, was he? I’d never seen him before, and he did look rather odd. I think I would have noticed him, had he been attending the school. How many other boys had green hair? And where was his uniform? Only Fridays were casual days, and today wasn’t Friday. Then again… The outfit he was wearing didn’t look like something a sane boy would don, Casual Friday or no. It was… It was… A yellow dress? If the situation weren’t so strange, I wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge to giggle.

“Ah… What would you say if I said that I teleported in?” he asked.

“Are you wearing a yellow dress?” I blurted out, before flushing. That certainly didn’t answer his question. But we were in my room, and it was bothering me.

“It’s a robe,” he argued defensively, and I could hear the hurt in his voice. Whoops. We might be in my room, and I might want to know how he ever could have gotten here, but that wasn’t a reason for me to be cruel.

“I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “It’s just… You look different. But it’s good different.” There.

“Thank you,” he said hesitantly, sniffing once.

“But… What was it you had said? About teleporting?” I asked, realizing he had answered my question. With another question, given, but… Teleportation! If only!

“Yes,” he said guardedly. “I can teleport. All Mysians can.”

“Mysians?” I echoed. “What does that mean?”

“Oooh!” he said, sounding as if he had just remembered something important. I didn’t get it. “I forgot that most human kids don’t know… Not until we explain, at least. I’m a Mysian. Like you’re a human, right? I live in Mysia. That’s where the name comes from. I look pretty human though, right? There are differences… Magick.”

“Magic?” I echoed. Magic? Really, magic? And mother told me not to lie… Lying was a sin. But… “You can really do magic? Like spells and stuff? Like books and fairy tales?”

“Not exactly,” he said. Well, if that wasn’t it, what was? “Umm… Here, hold on. But don’t yell or anything.”

I nodded mutely. What else could I do? His face wrinkled up a little, like he was concentrating on something. Then… Then I don’t know what happened. One moment he looked one way, and then… Wings? He’d looked strange before, but wings?

“You look like a little fairy! A fairy prince!” I gasped out, giggling. He did, he really did. Green and white hair, sparkly silver wings, and everything.

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered bitterly. I managed to smother my giggles; maybe he was offended. I didn’t mean to offend him. He was kind of nice… So far… Unlike the kids at school. Sure, he insisted that he had teleported into my bedroom. But it didn’t seem like he was joking.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. And I was. I don’t know why… But I wanted this Siwa kid to like me. For the longest time, I had been telling myself that it didn’t matter if I had friends or not. But I had been lying. And lying was a sin. Even if Siwa was an insane fairy… Er… Mysian- Well, even if he was crazy. I still wanted to be friends.

“It’s alright,” he said, sighing. He didn’t sound like the other kids, either. He sounded… Older. The other kids told cruel jokes, but they weren’t very bright. “It’s Mysian, not fairy, but humans always get confused.”

“Oh,” I said. What? There was a strange kid with wings telling me about Mysians or fairies or whatever in my bedroom. Shocked? You guessed it. “Are your wings real?”

“Of course they’re real,” he said pridefully. “And before you ask, yes, they really work. Yes, I can fly.”

“Is flying magic?” I asked curiously.

“Ah… Actually, it’s sort of just natural. Like how a bird flies. You don’t need magick. Just wings.”

I guess that made sense. But he said he had magic… Or magick, rather. Right. “But you do have… Magick… Right?”

“Of course,” he said proudly. “But magick… That’s something I can’t explain. Neither of us would understand. But using magick is easy. It’s just… there. I can show you, too. I’m supposed to. I’m your Guardian.”

“What is a Guardian?” I asked, curious.

“Ah… That’s hard, too. I can’t really say what a Guardian is, because there are lots of different Guardians. I can tell you about me, though.” Why did I get the impression that “me” was one of his favorite subjects? “I’m your guardian. Means a lot of things, but mostly it means that I’ll be your friend. Have any other friends? Yes? No? There has to be something wrong with your life… That’s what Guardianship is all about. I’ll fix it all. With magick.”

“…I don’t really have any friends,” I admitted. Why did I say that? I didn’t have to admit that I was a friendless loser. That wouldn’t impress anyone.

“Then I’ll be your first. You’re a friend-virgin.” Virgin? What’s that? Like olive oil? He frowned. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

“So we’re friends now?” I asked doubtfully.

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” he said. I suppose that was a yes. “So… What’s this about no friends?”

“…Do I have to tell you?” I asked. Only a bit nervously.

“Well, friends tell each other things,” he said, sounding hurt. Or maybe it was just me? His wings twitched, half-flapping, before vanishing again. Was that a bad sign? “You don’t trust me, do you? Knew I should have used the door, like a normal person…”

“No, it’s not that,” I warned. Did I trust him? Should I? I didn’t know. He had just appeared in my room. “I guess I’ll tell you. Couldn’t hurt.”

“Alright.”

“Well… Mother says that Monrovia isn’t big enough for a public school. If you want to go to public school, you have to take a bus to the next town. But there’s a private school. Because it’s nice here. Mother decided to have me go there, instead of riding on the bus for a long time every day. It’s alright, really- the school is very nice. The kids are just…”

“Snot-nosed brats?” he offered.

“I guess you could say that,” I agreed. “It isn’t that I don’t want to be friends with them. Mother keeps saying that’s the problem. I’m not friendly enough. Only they don’t want to be friends with me. Their parents all drive them from other towns miles away to go to this special school. They think they’re better than I am. That’s why they won’t talk to me. Not unless it’s in order to say something nasty.”

“Then forget about them,” he said, with true feeling, just a bit of heat in his voice. “You don’t need people like those kids to be your friends. You should take quality over quantity- I’ll be your friend, and I’ll do a better job than any of them ever would.”

“…Thanks,” I managed, somehow touched. “But… Mother wants me to be friendlier, and she’s been working so hard all the time… She wants me to make friends. I need to. For my mother.”

“In that case…” he said thoughtfully, and I wondered if I really wanted to know what he would say next. “You should let me meet your mother. It won’t even take magick to get her off your back… You just have to prove that the world doesn’t hate you. You have to prove that you can make friends. And you can- because we’re friends now.”

“Alright…” I agreed dubiously. Was this really such a great idea?

“So, when can I meet her?” He sounded all too enthusiastic about the whole idea.

“Umm… She should be home from work by now. She’s probably downstairs, and we didn’t hear her because we were talking.”

“Then let’s go!” he exclaimed, jumping up and striding to the door, before seeming to realize that it might be wise to have me go first. Without realizing, consciously, that I was smiling to myself, I went to the door to my room, turned the handle, opened the door, and led the way down the hall.

Together, we made our way down the hallway, footsteps muffled by thick carpet that continued down the stairs leading to the entranceway. On the first floor, I led Siwa further, peering around the doorframe of the kitchen, spotting my mother, and nervously walking inside.

“Mother?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to disturb her if she was busy. Wordlessly, she looked up from the papers spread out before her on the small kitchen table, silently asking what I might need. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

Taking his cue, Siwa stepped forward and into the room; I watched as he walked past me. He paused just a few steps ahead of me, nodding politely to my mother before speaking. Well. I never would have guessed, but he was polite after all. Or, he could be polite after all. He had people skills.

“Nice to meet you,” he said quietly. He didn’t know my last name, did he?

“Oh!” my mother exclaimed, none too noisily herself. “Anshan! You didn’t tell me you were having company!”

Perhaps Siwa didn’t notice, but I did. She was polite, too, but I saw the flicker of wonderment in her eyes, seeing his hair and his clothes. Strange, indeed. But Siwa and I… We both noted my mother’s pleasure at the thought of me having company. She was surprised, that was for sure, but she wasn’t unhappy.

“I didn’t know I was having company,” I said honestly, trying not to reveal the fact that I’d only met this boy half an hour before.

“Well,” she said, thinking to herself. “We should have him for dinner?”

“You want me to eat with you?” Siwa asked then, surprising me just a little. He looked strangely thrilled by the idea… Thrilled, and honored. It almost bothered me.

“Of course,” was my mother’s reply, in her voice that demanded no nonsense whatsoever from the listener. She’d made up her mind; for the first time since I could remember, we were going to have dinner in the kitchen with more people than just myself and mother. It was almost… Exciting. It was definitely different.

“So, what’s for dinner?”

--//SIWA\\--

I sat on Anshan’s bed an hour later, back in the bedroom with its rocket ship sheets and rocket ship walls. Cross-legged, I calmly watched the kid as he paced and babbled, unable to sit still for even a minute. I didn’t mean to be rude, exactly, but I wasn’t listening to a word Anshan was saying. I had things to think about, and some of the issues that were bothering me would do best to be worked out as swiftly as possible.

In my head, I went over the conversation from before. It had been strangely… Easy. I hadn’t had too many Guardianship jobs, what with my suspension and everything… But usually talking to a kid about being a Guardian was more difficult. It usually wasn’t that they didn’t believe you- the kids believed stories of magick all too quickly. It was getting them to understand that was the hard part. Anshan seemed strangely wise for his meager years. Or… Perhaps he wasn’t wise, perhaps he was only mature. But was that really a better adjective? He merely had an ability to understand that I wasn’t used to in a six-year-old. He didn’t just accept what he was told- he had a healthy skepticism, and exercised it, examining all the details.

He wasn’t one of those kids who believed in Santa Claus just because mommy said it was so. He was one of those kids who heard the story of Saint Nick over and over, who then interrogated his poor mommy until he had the details he deemed sufficient in proving the story true.

Perhaps being a magick slave wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Even then… There was still the tiny matter of where I would GO. I could flap my weary wings until they took me back to Mysia, so as to stay in my own bedroom… But what if the kid needed me? It was my job to be there to grant whatever wishes he might have, to fulfill his strange desires and magick away his problems. He was my responsibility. That was what witches like Faial just didn’t understand- responsibility to a real person, not a sheaf of papers at a desk or an embellished illusion. Perhaps I could find some way to stay in the world… I could find somewhere near the house to stay.

“…This is wonderful,” Anshan had been saying, as I was thinking. “Really, it is. I’ve never had a real friend at my house at night before. No one would have wanted to come if I’d asked. You know what you can do? You can spend the night. No one has ever spent the night before!” And…”

“Say what?” I interrupted calmly, hoping my strange composure wouldn’t startle him.

“Spend the night?” he repeated curiously, as if to ask whether or not that was what I had meant.

“Yeah, that,” I repeated brightly. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” he said innocently, his childishly open, almost shy expression making me want to smile until my face cracked in two. Yes, the snot-faced brats were worth the pain, weren’t they?

“That would be perfect,” I decided excitedly, jumping up off the bed. “I was worried about what I should do. I didn’t want to leave, anyway.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly, smiling a small smile.

“You know what I should do?” I asked, now walking slowly around the room, pacing myself. “I should give you a present. A meeting-present, since today is our first day as friends.”

“A meeting-present?” he echoed dubiously. Perhaps his mother didn’t approve of such frivolous things.

“Something fun. We can do big, flashy things later, if that’s what you want. For now… I want to think of something interesting. I know. I’ll give you a Friendship Flower.”

With those decisive words, I gestured at the dresser, mentally reaching into the warm pool of magic within every Mysian, the warmth that lit our kind like a lamp. As if growing from the wood of the dresser itself, a pot and tiny, green-brown plant stretched towards the rocket ship ceiling. I knew it probably didn’t look like much to the kid, a ceramic pot six inches in diameter, full of soil and a tiny little plant frond… But it was the thought that counted, right?

“Friendship Flower?” Anshan echoed.

“Yes,” I said decisively, beginning to answer. “It doesn’t look too great now, I know, but with time, and love, and care, this little sprout will grow. And it’s a special flower. Like any normal plant, you have to water and care for it daily, or it will die. But you also have to think about and care for our friendship- because if you don’t, the results will be plain in the state of the plant.”

Anshan’s eyebrows raised just slightly, lips parting in a silent “oh.” From the look in his dark brown eyes, I figured that, as usual, he was skeptical of my magic plant. However, he was a child, pleased with the thought of a present… And it seemed that he was also the sort of child who drew extra pleasure from a gift he could love and care for. A plant would be good for Anshan.

“Enjoy,” I said softly, quietly magicking a little watering can, already filled, onto the dresser beside the pot. Reverently, almost, Anshan went over to the can and the spot, sprinkling a handful of water droplets onto the soil. Scrutinizing the now slightly damp soil, Anshan deemed it acceptable, placed the watering can back on the dresser, and turned to me.

“It’s getting late,” he said simply. “We should go to sleep. Umm… You could borrow a toothbrush, if you need to. Mother says we have to brush our teeth every morning and evening, to keep them healthy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said offhandishly. “I’ll magick us ready.”

“You can do that?” he asked curiously, as if the display with the plant and the watering can hadn’t been enough. Shrugging, I pulled the trick with the pool of power, teasing for tendrils of the brightness, focusing them into intricate patterns. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing had changed, then a set of rocket ship pajamas melted onto Anshan, replacing the navy school uniform. He wouldn’t know it, but his day clothes had relocated themselves to the clothes hamper.

“Hey!” he exclaimed suddenly. “My teeth are clean!”

I almost laughed at that; eying him, I saw Anshan run his tongue over his front teeth, judging the feel of them, and discovering that they felt clean, tasted minty.

“Go to sleep,” I said happily, this time gesturing toward the bed, the covers of which drew back just slightly at the movement. Slightly enthralled by the trick, Anshan slipped under the coverlet and moved over to the far side of the small bed, as if making room for one more. I was touched, but felt no desire to be off to sleep that quickly. Cautiously, I seated my childlike little body on the edge of the bed, still amazed at how little I weighed, looking like a six-year-old.

Anshan looked over at me for a second, doubtlessly wondering why his strange new friend was still in the stranger yellow robes, and not properly going to bed. Then he turned his face into his pillow, mumbling incoherently. Even though the light switch was not designed for the purpose, I dimmed the lights to a pale glow, content to just sit on the bed and watch over my charge until he drifted off to sleep.

Still sitting there, I listened to Anshan’s quiet breathing, until it shallowed significantly enough for me to know than Anshan was truly asleep. Anshan was asleep, and too far into dreamland to notice a shift in weight on his bed. Releasing one of the innumerable magick dams somewhere within my being, as if teleporting, there was the faint whoosh of displaced air. After that, I was again perched lightly on the edge of the bed, this time in my usual, “adult” form. Normalcy was nice… Even if it was just while Anshan slept, even if it was just to watch over Anshan sleeping. I leaned back against the headboard, gently, strangely content with… With everything.

Yawning softly, I realized that it was finally growing toward my idea of late. If I was to wake with the child, I would have to sleep now. Thinking a moment, I flicked off the light switch with a thoughtless magical gesture, plunging the room into darkness. In the dark, one might have seen it if they tried… There was another whoosh-ing sound, this one different from the first, as air rushed in to fill vacated space. Now standing on the bed on four little white paws, I found myself in the form of a kitten. A magick trick I’d perfected for just this sort of situation.

And I made such a cute kitten. From experience, rather than sight, I knew I would have four white paws, and a white face. To match the streak of white through my hair. However, the rest of my fur would be green. Just as the rest of the hair on my head was green. A strange kitten, one that was green and white… But Anshan would understand, surely. If I explained it to him, the child would understand. And that was all that mattered.

Making slow circles and kneading the fabric of the coverlet with small white paws, I curled myself into a ball against Anshan’s back, prepared to be asleep in seconds. Thankfully, whatever strange deity ruled over earth seemed to be pleased enough with me, for my own wish was granted moments later. I was asleep.

-NOTE:- Just for starters… This was considerably longer than I had originally intended. Each of the ten chapters will be four scenes in length… And for the most part the chapters will be primarily Siwa/primarily Anshan’s point of view, I think. However, the number of Siwa : Anshan scenes should come out close to even, in the end. But I wonder if every chapter will be this long, with four scenes. Hnn.

Other than that… If you bothered to remember, the town Anshan lives in is called Monrovia. It’s mentioned perhaps twice. Fun random fact: if you feel like stalking me, Monrovia is actually the town in which I live. It’s… A strange sort of joke, naming Anshan’s town Monrovia. Second, the personalities of the two characters are a bit odd, because I don’t do much first person writing. Siwa morphed the first time I wrote the first scene; I tried to fix it, but he still changes a little. However… In the final scene, he starts to change back, so I think it’s alright. Anshan… I merely prefer his personality as I want to write it in the second half of the story. I can write children in third person, and I can write children who aren’t main characters. But I’ve never written from the point of view of a child for half a story. Forgive me anything strange about the way Anshan thinks. He’s supposed to be very bright and curious, but introverted. Anyway… That wraps up chapter one. I spent longer before posting this than I thought I might.

I hope you’ve enjoyed it.