A Familiar Introduction (Part 1)

Transcript

Oh, what's that? Starting to stir. Waking up from your little nap.

Can you finally hear me? Good. Fuck you.

Oh, what? Who am I? You mean you don't recognize me from before you decided to go ahead and pass out? Oh, yes.

Yes, you did. You decided a lot of shit when you opened that book and started to read, despite me telling you not to. I bet you feel pretty damn proud of yourself right now, don't you? Isn't it just the best feeling in the world to wake up in a place you've never been before? Stone walls, a rough bed, wooden covers on the windows, torchlight, candles, rudimentary syringes and.

.. well, who knows what the hell this is, and a big wooden door as the only way out. Yes, I'm sure this feels great, doesn't it? That's what I thought.

Not even a single word. No, suddenly this is scary. You are lost and the thoughts start going through your head.

Oh, maybe I should have listened. This isn't Kansas anymore, or wherever the fuck you're from. Am I the man from the bookshop? I don't even know how to answer that.

Yeah, sure, but also no, not really. I guess it's the same answer if you asked, are we still in the bookshop? What's confusing you? The mask, the dark robes, the fact that it seems more liquid than solid, and you can't tell where the shadows end and I begin.

Well, considering the amount of time we are about to be spending together, let me at least try to get things started on the right foot. Or maybe it's the left foot now, since I guess we've already met each other once before, but that doesn't really matter. Let me introduce myself.

I am Fade. I am Fade Alou, but the P is silent. I am your familiar.

Actually, wait, no, no, no, no, no, I take that back. That didn't sound right at all. Witches have familiars, right? Or you're supposed to believe that kind of thing.

I don't know what you've read and what you haven't, but let's go with that. You are my witch and I am a familiar. Yes, that's much better.

Saying that I am your familiar just sounds a little too much like you own me and, well, if anything, it's the other way around. But really, you should feel honored either way. Trust me.

You look terribly confused and lost. You're awake, aren't you? Your eyes work, you've been listening to what I've been saying.

So act like it. You opened that fucking book, I told you not to. You knew it was different, you knew you shouldn't have.

You can't act scared and pathetic, you did this to yourself. And don't you try to fucking argue against that. So you're going to listen to what I say and accept it as a fact.

You're not going to stare at me like a child lost without their parents and you're not going to ask me where you are one more time or I will leave you here alone. Do you understand that? Good girl.

Now take a deep breath and actually process what I've been saying. I'll give you one more chance. Witch, bitch, one letter difference, really, it's close enough.

Who knows if you're magical, who cares? But if you're going to belong to a familiar, then you ought to at least have the title, right? Oh dear, what were you expecting? A little cat to follow you around, a little raven to sit on your shoulder and whisper secrets to you, a dog that would understand the words on your tongue and be your precious, pitiful guardian.

I suppose it's good that you've had your fair share of exposure to medieval fantasy. You'd probably die a lot sooner in this world than if you didn't, but I'm afraid, my dear little thing, that your expectations are just glimpses through another's lens. You know nothing, and you will stay that way if you close your mind and limit it to such thinking.

So yes, I don't look like the kind of familiar you were expecting, or perhaps the kind that you wanted. I don't look like your familiar, but you do look like my witch. Do I know where we are? Right now? In this room? At this very second? I don't think I've ever been here before, not exactly.

But in a more general sense, yes. But no. No, I don't think I will tell you.

Even if I did know the answer to all of your questions, simply giving it to you would just spoil too much. No one likes having their books spoiled. But if you're going to look at me so helplessly, I suppose I can give you something.

After all, you are my witch, I suppose it's only fair that I share some of my magic. So let's make a deal then. You can ask me for anything.

Anything at all. And in return, I will ask something of equal importance of you. Then once you agree, it will be done.

So long as you keep up your end of the bargain. What do I mean? Let's say, in this moment, you wanted a sword in your hand.

Then, I would ask you to do something. Let's say, hypothetically, just to stab the first man you saw with that sword. If you agreed, then it's yours.

If you don't, then there is no loss. But you also don't get the sword. Oh.

Hahahaha. If you don't follow through, well, then, I would be upset with you. Rather upset, actually.

And I'm not the kind of cutesy, huffy, puffy, grumpy boyfriend who just makes loud noises and is ultimately harmless and pathetic. Trust me, small human. There'd be nothing cute or attractive about disappointing me.

You don't want to be a disappointment, do you? Hahaha. Not quite convinced.

What's wrong? You aren't sold on this idea of magic yet? Or is it me that you're questioning? Do I not seem magical enough to you? Do you not believe the words that I'm saying? Who is what? Who is that? Who is this? That is me.

Can't you tell? We ought to look identical. Because we are.

Why are you suddenly frightened? Did you not believe me when I said that I was magical? Would you not like the number two? Because if that's the case, then maybe you'd enjoy three a little more.

How many of me are there? That's a very strange question. Because they're all me.

I am just one. You see, no matter how many bodies to show you, it's one mind. One creature behind.

These shapes are just how I want you to see me. Think of them as puppets. On the ends of the strings that I pull.

I could toss in as many as I'd like. It makes no difference. But now that you can see, I'm not lying about what I am.

Let's get back to the important bit. How about that deal?