ORIGIN

Shimmering on the back wall of the throne was a glowing painting, seemingly painted with dots and strokes of magical light. The lights were moving as they told their story, looping endlessly.

This particular painting depicts a night sky with many twinkling stars and clusters, much like the surface of the ceiling in Orion. Occasionally there is a shooting star, and it lands on the painted ground, bursting into a small animal that gleams with the brightness of a star. It runs around, accumulating with other star-animals until the ground becomes too cluttered and they all morph into a long strand of star-glitter, flowing on the breeze as the painting moves the scene horizontally in place. A cluster of glowing rocks appears on the scene and sucks up the star-glitter that was being carried on the wind.

The painting goes dark, then the lights begin again, the strokes appearing as if they are being painted again for the first time. The story continues to play like this, over and over.

It was leaving through Orion when it heard the yowl, the idea of lights coming on not any different for it. It didn't know the lights had been off. Maybe power fluctuated? It hadn't thought about it. In any case, it wasn't something that even crossed its mind. However, the yowl caught one of the figure's long ears. Turning to catch the sound better, the creature tilted its head listening as a scrambling came after. What had happened? Then there was silence. It turned completely around to look, but it saw nothing. Was it at the location where it had just left its story?

Worried, it made its way back up toward the throne. There, it did indeed find someone watching the story of the star children. The robed figure became caught up in watching the story play out also, leaning against the decayed walls that led up to the throne. It was peering over a rise. When the story had concluded and reset, one of its ears twisted back, as if saddened. Ah, it never liked the end of that one. It was what it was.

From its place behind the feline, the figure conjured a tiny cat like itself that bounded up to the back of the throne the way the star-animals bounded around in the story. It was ethereal and light blue. It made a mrring noise to announce its approach, nearly the size of the small bobcat herself. As it drew closer to her, it grew smaller. Its face turned upward, toward the painting that had begun again, then back to the bobcat. It twirled in a circle as if to show off.

From its semi-hidden place, the creator lay with its cheek propped in its hand, the other hand controlling the copy-cat with an outstretched finger.

The painter smiled curiously as the bobcat spooked slightly. Ah, another skittish one, then.
Best the familiar did announced its approach, after all. Unlike the wolf pup, though, this Gembound was a little older and did not go running off. Instead, it simply asked hello. The figure was still from its place on the rise, watching the familiar tilt its head and mew back, unable to use language.

"It cannot speak," it projected its voice softly, waving a slightly glowing blue hand her way. The familiar mewed again, twirling in its place. "It can only make the sounds of its copied form," explained the painter, pointing toward the familiar as it mimicked purring. "It is a conjured familiar. It acts on its own will and sticks close to the Gembound who summoned it," it finished, and the familiar rolled onto its back to stretch out.

For many centuries, its parent tried to development communication within the conjured familiars, but it could not figure it out. In any case, its research did strengthen the familiar's conjuration in general. Though ethereal, it could make limited physical contact, such as picking something up, touching something, or sitting on something. If great force were to try and hit the familiar, however, it would pass through the familiar's form leaving a wisp-like trail.