Ravyn stared at the floor of Yomi’s living room, chewing her lower lip while mentally sifting through hundreds of Encroachers.
“Remember, if you don’t like it, we’ll have to ask someone to help send it back,” Finn cautioned.
“I know,” Ravyn murmured.
Yomi giggled. “You say that like a familiar is as easy to return as a letter at the wrong address.”
Finn blushed. “I know it’s not! You know what I mean.”
“Hm,” Ravyn grumbled beneath their exchange. Not a wolf. We’ve had too many bad run-ins with wolves. I don’t really want a cat, either. Catgirls are bad enough as it is. “I wonder if they can talk,” she mused aloud.
Yomi and Finn exchanged glances, then shrugged.
“I’ve never asked another [Mage],” Yomi said.
“Well, let’s see. Summon iPaw,” Finn declared, the device appearing in his hand. “Hey, Ai—” he continued to speak, swapping to the strange language he only ever used with the iPaw. It was weird, and Finn himself couldn’t explain it. After a while, Ravyn got used to it.
“Remember the Encroachers on Nyarlothep?” Yomi asked quietly while Finn bantered with the iPaw. “They were so pretty!”
The outlying forested areas of Nyralothep’s capital were filled with roaches unlike any Ravyn had ever seen. Brilliantly colored birds, bugs, and critters scampering across the forest floor. She’d heard stories of beasts like that when she was a kitten, but she hadn’t believed they existed when she got older. “Yeah. The birds especially were nice.”
“Mou ii.” Finn sighed, and the iPaw disappeared. “Alright, Ai says that certain familiars can talk. But, as usual, she’s really vague on the details.”
“We’ll just have to hope, then.” Ravyn ran her fingers through her hair, then clapped her hands together. “Let’s see what we can do.”
She recalled their first afternoon traveling through Nyarlothep. Finn had barked a laugh at one of her silly jokes, and a flock of bright blue birds took flight from a nearby tree. She’d never seen anything like them.
Yeah, one of those would work. Who cared if it could talk? So long as the thing could fight and help protect them, what else could she ask for?
“[Summon Familiar],” Ravyn cast the spell while holding both hands forward.
Finn and Yomi watched in silence as the familiar glowing red circle appeared on the living room floor. Magic sigils danced around its perimeter, speeding to a blurred haze as she focused her magic. She cleared her thoughts and pictured the Encroacher.
“Oh, here it comes!” Yomi exclaimed. “This is so exciting.”
“Shh,” Finn gently hushed her.
Ravyn’s magic molded and shaped the dark figure at the center of her circle. Sweat prickled the back of her neck as the creature pulled more and more of her Myana pool from her fingertips. At last, the circle faded, and the drain on her Myana ceased, leaving behind a black-beaked, royal blue bird.
“Squaaawk!” the Familiar screamed. He beat his powerful wings and flapped furiously around the room. “Squaawk! Squaaaawk! Squawk!”
Finn and Yomi clapped their hands over their ears.
“Squawk! Squawk! Squawwwk!”
“It’s so loud!” Yomi shrieked, ducking as it swooped in toward her head.
Ravyn snickered. She was equally as loud as a kitten, and if this thing could squawk, maybe he could talk.
Flinching, Finn took a step back and whipped his head to try and catch sight of the unleashed bird. “Get that parrot a ball gag!”
“Ball Gag, huh?” Ravyn tapped one finger to her chin. It was a term from Finn’s world that he’d explained once before after a failed attempt at crafting one. A little sexy, a little obscene. It would certainly turn a few heads as a name. “I like it.”
The roach towered over the three of them, drool dripping from its sharp, narrow teeth. A dozen eyes peered over its tiny nose, taking in the whole Party at once.
“Kuso! How is this thing still alive?” Finn cried. “I used my last bomb, but we’re gonna need more firepower!”
“I already used the fire scrolls I brought!” Yomi yelled back. “You’re up, Ravyn!”
Well, let’s give Bally a go. “[Summon Familiar]!” Ravyn shouted, holding out one hand. Ball Gag appeared in midair, eagerly flapping his wings as he glanced between the roach and Ravyn. Ball hadn’t seemed to grasp the concept of carrying her magic outside of battle. Maybe he’d understand in a more serious situation. “[Fire Ball]!”
A sphere of flames erupted from her hand, launching toward the parrot. His tiny eyes widened, and he narrowly dodged the fire.
“No! Ball Gag! You’re supposed to fucking catch it! Baka!” Ravyn screamed.
The fireball exploded in the roach’s face. It uttered a guttural cry before sinking to its knees. Every eye on its ugly head closed before it crashed to the ground.
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“You got it, Ravyn!” Finn cheered.
“No thanks to my familiar!” Ravyn bellowed at Ball.
“Fuck you! Squawk!” Ball Gag shrieked, flying higher into the sky.
Ravyn froze, her anger pivoting to delight. “You…you can talk!”
“Squawk! Fuck you! Squawk!” Ball circled the Party, repeating the phrase at the top of his lungs.
Finn laughed and moved to carve what he could salvage from the roach. Yomi moved beside Ravyn and stared up at the sky with her. “Maybe he doesn’t like his name.”
“Oh. He’ll learn to like it.” Ravyn sneered up at her familiar. “And he’ll learn to say it.”
After weeks of one-on-one training, Ball Gag began to understand that magic wouldn’t actually hurt him. That Ravyn’s [Fire Ball]s were intended to make him stronger—not fry him for dinner.
Guiding him to the target was a whole different story.
Twice he’d set Ravyn’s thatch roof on fire—thankfully, San Island was filled with catgirls with elemental affinities, including water. On one occasion, his flaming wingtip caught the hem of Yomi’s dress, an issue quickly solved by Finn gracefully stamping it out with his foot. However, the worst of it was an incident where he’d nearly collided with Finn’s [Alchemy] storage.
Finn started storing his bombs in a more secure location after that one.
Oh well. Another day. Another chance. Another scene of Ball Gag veering into her roof—
“Bally!” Ravyn shrieked. “Dammit! The target is right here!” She gestured wildly to a hastily built scarecrow. “Set this asshole on fire! Not my roof!”
“Squaawk! Master’s a bitch! Squawk!”
“Master’s going to serve you for dinner if you set her roof on fire again!” Ravyn stamped her foot and balled her fists. “I mean it! Yomi loves fried chicken!”
“Be nice! Be nice! Squawk!” Ball banked his flight path, missing the roof by a hair’s breadth.
Ravyn growled, then took a deep breath. “Bally. Please attack the scarecrow?”
Ball evened out his wings, then soared directly into the scarecrow’s midsection. The straw ignited into a brilliant burst of flame as the parrot changed direction to fly straight into the sky.
Relief and frustration washed over her in equal measure. Really? The bird has feelings?
Ball Gag descended from the sky, the last licks of flame sizzling harmlessly from his feathers. He alighted on Ravyn’s shoulder, then nuzzled his head against her cheek. “Good Master,” he squawked.
Ravyn cackled, then stroked his back. Maybe they weren’t so different after all.
The third bottle of wine didn’t make her feel better. Neither did the fourth. How many would it take to just feel numb?
Finn was gone. Finn was gone, and Yomi blamed Ravyn. Had she ever been so fucking alone?
Her chest felt impossibly tight, and her eyes burned with the thousands of tears that had escaped them. The whole world had turned against her. Her house felt so empty and quiet.
Another drink. Another memory.
“[Summon Familiar],” she slurred, waving her hand above the small dining table. The table Finn had sat across so many times.
“Squawk! Master?” Ball Gag appeared, standing stationary on the table’s surface instead of his usual feather-filled entrance. He hopped forward, then preened one of his wings.
“Bally, I…I can’t…” Ravyn’s voice broke, her forehead slumped against her arm, and another wave of sobs stole her words.
“Ravyn.” Ball moved his beak from his wing to Ravyn’s hair, cleaning it as if she were a fellow bird.
“Don’t…Don’t ever leave my side,” Ravyn pleaded quietly.
Ball finished his attention on her hair, then brushed his cheek to her ear. “Good Master.”
Ravyn chuckled between her gasps. “Good Bally.”