How did Meji come to be? The secret is not often divulged, nor does Meji herself want to tell, for she feels a certain responsibility towards secrecy, and has to this date told only two entities of her beginnings. Her biography doesn’t go back very far, none of the “thousands of years ago” nonsense. The simplest way to tell it would be just as it is: a story, beginning with that ages-old phrase…

Once upon a time, the draiks were discovered in Meridell, triggering the avalanche of owners clambering to land one in their hands. A few of those families were too late, and too poor to afford other means by which they could get one. Such a family was a young girl and her chubby little blumaroo, Elsa. The reason she wanted a draik was for her pet, who was afflicted with paralysis of the limbs.

But since she couldn’t afford a draik egg or potion, she instead tried to content the ailing creature with a little draik plush she had found, still cuddly and loveable. Immediately Elsa took it under her care, and at night, her dreams were filled with the delicious sensation of flight, of warm thermals brushing her cheek. When she woke up, she decided that no matter what, she would paint herself faerie, for if she couldn‘t walk, why, then, couldn‘t she fly?

Months and months her owner worked to gain the money, and finally, they were almost there. That was the day the little Elsa found out that her draik plushie, the one which had never left her sight since it’s introduction, was suddenly worth nearly as much as the faerie paint brush she so wished for. Excited beyond sanity, she eagerly told her mommy, but when the girl stretched out her hand to take the draik, the poor blumaroo couldn’t let go.

Their house was broken into, and the money so painstakingly raised was gone. Sitting in her bed, the little blumaroo cursed her stuffed toy, ripping off it’s wings and locking it’s remains in the toy box. But ,in the middle of the night, under the eye of the sleepy crescent moon, there came a persistent rattling from inside the chest. Frightened, the blumaroo stared it, so afraid of what might come to wreak it’s havoc upon her wasted body. But when the box opened, out came not a twisted monster, but a life-sized, plushie draik. Her burgundy eyes sparkled with mischief, and, with a flush of guilt, the blumaroo could see that her wings had been re-sewn on. The draik did not seem vengeful, however, and instead winked at the astonished creature.

“Ready to fly?”

Without waiting for response, she gathered the blumaroo into her arms, and soared into the starless night expanse above. To far stretches of land Mejia (for that was what she was named) would carry Elsa, where few could venture, let alone one without the power to walk. But it was on a cliff in the forests of Meridell that a sudden, surprising question arose.

“…..Elsa?” Asked Meji quietly.

“Yeah?” Elsa had closed her eyes, lulled by the woody sounds of night.

“What….is it like….to have a heart?”

The blumaroo fluttered her eyes, and sat up, “A heart? Silly! You have a heart already, and it‘s the biggest I know.” But when Meji looked at her skeptically, Elsa added, “But if you really want to know, then you’ll find out for yourself tomorrow.”

And she did, for during the night, Elsa worked on creating a little stuffed velvet heart, which was sewn into Meji’s chest, the hole formed patched with a small handkerchief.

“There, now you’re just like everyone else!” Elsa said gleefully.

Time uncounted was treasured between the two, and often they would share stories with one another, for though Meji had not seen much of this world, she was very adept at formulating stories in it. One day, however, Elsa’s owner came home with very important news: an anonymous friend had left enough money to complete the surgery that would see the blumaroo walking again. Elsa was quite thrilled, as was Meji, who jokingly complained of how much Elsa weighed…

I suppose you can see that we are nearing the end of this long story, but the end is not precisely what one would wish. For Elsa, wheeled into the surgery room, was never taken out alive. She died during the surgery, and when her owner went to tell Meji, she found that the draik had disappeared.

Several days later, there appeared on the front step of Maeve Dragon a rather diminished plushie draik, burgundy eyes glazed with a sorrow that she couldn’t accept. She never really told the complete story to anyone. Once, though, she came dangerously close to it. Maeve Dragon came into her room one day, and found her sitting on her bed, the patch on her chest newly stitched. With an uncomfortably steady paw, she held out a little velvet heart, placing it into Maeve’s hand.

“I don’t think having a heart is that great after all…” Meji said quietly.