Love Crafted

Abigail is super excited. You know this because she’s not just walking next to you, she’s bouncing, a huge, happy smile on her face and sometimes she lets out these little barks of laughter that make you want to laugh too.

A few people that she knows seem to notice that she’s very happy too, because they smile and wave right back when she’s going by.

And then, before you realize it, you’re in front of the huge gates of the Academy.

“Ohh,” you say as you look way, way up at the thin spirally towers all around the grounds of the Academy and then at the main building which looks more like a castle than any sort of school.

“That way, I think,” Abigail says as she gestures to one side. There’s a sign floating in the air with the words ‘First Years’ and a large arrow painted under it. All the students past that sign are carrying a whole lot of books and bags and trunks and they have big pointy hats just like Abigail’s.

“There’s a line over there,” Abigail says. She pulls her trunk along even though it’s mostly empty. Being the best familiar ever that you are, you tucked most of Abigail’s stuff next to your real body. You even put your lunches and other stuff there. And you didn’t even eat her portion of it!

You move over to the line, Abigail shuffling nervously as the students in front of her turn to stare then go back to waiting. There’s some chatter in the air, but not much. It sounds more like people are nervous or are trying to keep their familiars in check.

There are big fluffy wolves and squeaky bats and purring cats and a sleepy tapir and a bug-eyed axolotl and an octopus in a tank (but its tentacles aren’t nearly as cool as yours) and they all look so delicious that you’re starting to drool a little.

Then the line ends and it’s your turn to move into a weird lobby place. An old man in a robe just like Abigail’s, but with a hat that’s basically just a perfect flat square with some tassels tied to it, is standing in the middle of the path. “Hello prospective student,” the man says as he smiles at Abigail. “And welcome to Five Peak’s Academy of Magical Arts. If you would, please move to room one to my right and present your equipment, then to room two with your familiar for a rapid inspection. Once that is complete you may move towards the main auditorium. Our headmaster will be giving a speech quite soon.”

“Ah, thank you, sir,” Abigail says before pulling you along. Her hands are all sweaty and her happiness seems to have turned into nervousness. “Dreamer, um, I, I don’t know what the familiar inspection is,” she say.

“Does it matter?” you ask.

Abigail doesn’t answer you since you’ve made it into room one and there’s a pair of students with round bumpy hats on their heads. If you remember from the store correctly, that means they’re fourth years.

Abigail lays out all of her books and equipment and stuff, pulling more and more of it out of her bag as you add it back in. One of the students eyes the pile of equipment on the table, then Abigail’s small bag, but he doesn’t make a fuss.

“You’re good to go, Miss Abigail,” one of them finally says before giving Abigail a piece of paper.

She thanks him and starts shoving her things back in the bag where your tentacles grab it and place it on your real body atop a pile of fresh dresses.

You’re moving on when Abigail starts to whisper again. “Dreamer, you’re... not a normal familiar. What if you don’t pass the inspection?”

You snort, of course you’re going to pass, you’re the best.

As it turns out, room two is a bit smaller and smells kind of strange, like hay and grains and animal poop. Across the room, behind a thick wooden desk is a wrinkly old woman who is glaring at you and Abigail the moment you walk in.

“Come on, get closer,” she orders and you both move closer to her desk. “Closer, I don’t have all day for you.”

“Yes, sorry,” Abigail says as she moves even closer. “Um, this is my familiar, Dreamer,” she says, gesturing at you.

You smile at the professor. “Hello old lady!” you say.

The old lady does not look very impressed with you. “Miss... Abigail, is this some sort of joke?”

“Um,” Abigail says. “No?”

“Mimics can’t speak. Next time you steal an urchin off the streets and try to pass her off as a familiar perhaps you should spend less time looking for such an ugly dress and more time reading. Though I doubt your ability to do that much.”

“I, but Dreamer’s really my familiar. She’s not a human,” Abigail says.

The old woman snorts. “Get out. You’ve failed.”

You harrumph and make tentacles slither out from under your dress and peel out of your arms. “See, I’m a me.”

The woman stops breathing for a moment, eyes narrowing. “What are you?” she asks. “No, don’t answer that. I... have a suspicion.” She turns towards Abigail, face going red and blotchy. “Do you have any idea how illigal what you’ve done is?” she hisses. “Once the Inquisition find out about this you’ll be lucky if they only fine you until you’re a pauper.”

“What?” Abigail squeaks.

The old lady stands up. “Stay here. I need to report th--”

She is cut off, no longer able to talk because you’ve surrounded her face with a tentacle. Another tentacle, one that’s only a little bit in this world slips into her head and roots around until you find what she’s talking about.

“Oh, there are tadpoles here!” you say.

“What?” Abigail asks.

“They’re like, uh, ideas that don’t last very long, but that a lot of you humans have, like daydreams that all gather together and then become a thing.”

“Like you?” Abigail asks.

You harrumph and give her a glare. “Tadpoles are small and weak and they hardly taste like anything and they’re only a few million years old. When they grow really old and big and strong, then they taste way better.”

“Uh,” Abigail says. “What about, um, her?” she asks.

You roll your eyes and fix a few things in the old lady’s head, then push her back into her seat and remove the tentacle around her mouth. “And you... you... are the most beautiful familiar I have ever seen. You are so pretty and nice. I... I should hug you. And pat you.”

“No thank you old lady,” you tell her. “I only want pats and hugs from Abigail.”

“Ah, yes, of course. You pass, obviously.” the old lady says as she pushes a paper towards Abigail. “Next!” she calls out of the room.

Abigail grabs your hand and drags you away and past the next student who’s standing proud next a big tall wolf. You’re moving fast, but not fast enough that you miss what’s being said in the room.

“And what’s that?”

“Uh, it’s Wuffles, my wolf familiar?” a boy says.

“Yes, and where are its tentacles?”

“What?”

“Failed! Next!”

You run to catch up to Abigail and slip your hand into hers. “So, what’s next.”

“Ah,” Abigail says. “Well there’s that speech.” You make a huffy noise at that. “But I’m sure we could skip it if you want. Did you want to explore a little? Maybe we’ll run into Daphne?”