Love Crafted

They have left you alone.

Alone in a shop that sells magical reagents to passing mortals for a fee. At least, that’s what you assume based on the little cards with numbers next to each ingredient.

You are uncertain of what to do. You want to follow your Summoner, but you also want to investigate this quaint mortal magic she used.

Perhaps you can do both?

As you slowly make your way across the room, ears perked to try and listen in on what’s being said in the next room over, you scan across all the jars, powders and neat little things stacked around you.

‘Goblin Feet,’ reads one little sign above a basket full of tiny feet. You pause before it on your way over to the magic circle on the wall, take a sniff with your new nose and recoil. This does not smell good.

You grab one and pop it into your mouth before retching.

It does not taste good either. Too crunchy.

Tiny face tentacle wiggling to get rid of the taste, you search for something to drink and find a bunch of sturdy glass jars with ‘Spirit of Salt’ written on them. You pop the lid of one of them and take a swallow. It’s spritzy and makes your throat tingle. Yummy.

Then you see a display filled with Black Widow’s Legs and one with Porcupine Quills. The legs are very good, but a bit dry, and the quills have a nice crunch to them. You find a bowl filled with Fennel Leaves according to the sign next to it, and dump it into a bowl of Bay leaves. Then you fill the bowl with a handful of Widow Legs and Quills.

The next row over, you find a jar filled with Oil of Vitriol and, after taking a sip, pour it over your bowl. Then you find some yummy, yummy Lye and add that too.

It’s a salad!

Truly, you are a chef worthy of much praise.

Grinning to yourself, you bring your snack over to the far wall where the magic circle for the lights is awaiting your inspection. The circle is a bit too high up for you to reach, but that’s what tentacles are for. You slide your tentacles out from under Abigail’s jacket and use them to lift you up until you’re face to face with the circle.

You stare at the intricate carving while slurping up a particularly juicy spider leg. It’s filled with tiny little markings, runes, you think, which are laid in a circle within the circle. Everything is connected to the rest by thin metallic lines, like a bent coat-hanger.

That metallic line, in turn, dips into a tank suspended next to the circle. It looks like it’s made to be easily removed.

“Abi, it’s not a child!” you hear Daphne hiss.

Oh, yes, you’re supposed to be listening.

It would be hard to listen from all the way across the room like this with your poor excuse for ears, so instead of trying too hard, you focus a little and the room squishes itself. Physics sobs as the ceiling narrows down into a square that’s only a few feet apart while the rest of the room stays the same. You are now only a step away from the room where the girls are talking and you didn’t need to move an inch.

“Daph, I summoned her, Dreamer’s my familiar. I, I should be happy. I am happy! We did it, and she’s obviously magical! Do you know how rare that is?”

“One in six, Abi. One in six Familiars are magical in nature, and that’s not a reason to take such a big risk. You don’t know what it is yet.”

“Familiars don’t hurt their masters,” Abigail pointed out.

There was a snort. “I showed you the cuts Archie left on my shoulder with his claws. You know that Familiars can be silly sometimes. They’re not magical constructs that need to follow rules.”

“I... well, I won’t unsummon Dreamer.”

Your chest feels nice and fuzzy as you hear that. So you take a celebratory bite out of a quill and munch on it as you return to inspecting the magical circle.

The whole thing is carved into a plaque, one with tiny writing at the bottom. ‘Hubert and Hebert Magical Accomodators Inc. Copyright 24384932. Year of the seventh circle, 345.’

You don’t know what any of that means.

“I’m not telling you to get rid of her, Abi, just be careful. It’s... it’s not normal.”

“She, she isn’t normal. And not being normal isn’t a bad thing, Daph.”

Maybe you should poke the circle?

You place your bowl on a handy tentacle that lets it hover near you, then use another, smaller tentacles to grab a bunch of quills and legs and stuff them into your mouth. Abigail had pressed her hand against the circle just... like... this.

Your palm rests against the cold plaque.

Nothing happens.

Hrm.

You poke it harder. Still nothing.

“Look, it hasn’t even been an hour yet,” Abigail says. “Let’s get to know Dreamer before casting stones, okay?”

“Fine, fine. But when it turns out she’s on some forbidden creature list I’m not going to be making excuses to the Inquisition for you.”

“Daph,” you hear Abigail sigh. “Okay. I... I just hope she’s enough to get me into the Academy.”

“Oh, Abi, you silly girl, of course you’ll get in. You’re brilliant, and now you have a Familiar, and you’ve been saving enough for the tuition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah I have everything. Almost. I still need some of the course books, but they’re pricey. I’ll find used copies somewhere.”

This magic circle thing is very annoying. You could do the light thing without it, but Abigail didn’t need to bend nature to her will to make them turn on, she just pressed this plaque. So you’re missing something, something vital.

You lick the plaque.

“Dreamer?” you hear a call and notice footsteps approaching.

Quick as lightning, you retract your tentacles, let physics take control of the ceiling again and then stuff the bowl in the cracks between this reality and the next. That way you’ll have a snack for later. “Yes?” you ask.

“Ah, there you are,” Abigail says as she finds you rubbing a hand across your mouth to remove some of that lye stuff. “What were you up to?”

You point to the plaque with a tentacle. “Magic.”

“Ah, right,” she said with a suppressed giggle. “I can explain that later. Come on, I’ll show you our rooms.”