Reincarnated as a Familiar

For some time, I wondered, are there others like me? Undoubtedly, the answer is yes. There are a whole lot of summoners in the worlds, and I’m not answering all of their requests. I can only be on one job at a time, too; wouldn’t it be strange if I controlled summoned creatures on both sides of the same battle? Whoever set up the cosmos in which I find myself clearly thought things through.

Let’s get back to the matter of true names. You might ask, wouldn’t it be possible to conceal my true name just by never giving it out? That would be awfully convenient. I can’t help but leak some hints. My true name imposes limitations of what forms I can take. Every summoning spell provides me a menu of options, but some of those options are blocked out, depending on certain parts of my name.

The threat of having one’s true name figured out by people of the worlds is minuscule. They don’t understand just what is powering their summoning spells, not in the least. While they can also use your true name against you if they learn it, the real threat is others of our kind.

However you dice it, I’m at an information disadvantage. Which forms I take, or rather which ones I can’t take, can give me away. To that end, I don’t exercise all of my options when choosing forms, in hopes that I can keep the list of potential forms I can’t take as long as possible. But, even knowing this much, there is much that I don’t know.

*

“HOOOOOOOOOOOT!” A shockwave spreads through the air, causing me to glow brightly. All eyes lock on me. It feels like the owl’s eyes had been on me before I had even entered the tent. Behind them, something inscrutable. I’m a reincarnated human just getting his bearings in this new life. There is much I don’t understand about our kind, and my opponent likely doesn’t share this weakness.

The humanoids shout and reach for their weapons. I’m not built for this. I can still help my party, but not in here. I turn to leave the tent, and a thick cloud of fog envelops the scene. This party is on another level. It’s no wonder they were trusted with this task. While the glow will still give away my location, I have some chance of regrouping with the party now. I see the two door guards’ warm bodies covering the door as two bodies quietly approach them from the sides.

Once the fighting starts at the door, I slip between the door guards’ backs. I hear drums sounding in alarm. This entire camp is going to descend on my client and his party. I turn and let out a “ROOOOAAAAAR!” in front of the door guards, forcing them to account for me. The warriors from my client’s party use this gap in their attention to batter them, forcing the door guards to take their attention off of me.

I load up, and launch my weight into the knees of one door guard, causing him to crumple to the ground. The warrior facing him clubs him mercilessly, ending him. The figures inside the tent are staying far from the door. I swipe at the other door guard’s knee and take some distance. He is forced to turtle up while his opponent rains down blows on his shield. Two warm bodies line up some distance away from the tent. I can feel that the owl’s eyes have been glued to me this entire time.

Mana surges near the door, and fire begins to take form. “HOOOOOOOOT!” The mana is scattered and the spell fizzles. Enemy reinforcements must be closing in at this point. Is my client’s task a suicide mission?

I watch four warm bodies regroup away from the tent. I move to join them. The second caster lets off a quiet spell and the party’s appearance changes. My glow wears off. We start to run toward where we entered the camp.

The owl emerges from the fog, soaring with a hunting cry, and enemy pursuers follow its lead. We break into a full run, and with an overhead “HOOOOT!” the party’s disguises shatter like glass. Grease starts to rain on the path ahead of us. The owl is staring a hole through me. In just 2 minutes, this job is over. If I can hold the pursuers off for that long, the party might at least get over the fence.

I come to a stop and turn to face our pursuers. I let out a menacing roar, bringing the enemy to a stop. They start to form an arc around me, and I back up and lunge at the man farthest out. He jumps back and puts his spear out. An officer shouts something. The other men forming the arc raise their shields and start to walk me down. Shit.

I turn to see how far the party has gotten, and see they have shuffled past the greasy patch. I take a running leap past it, to the side of a camp torch. I knock the torch over onto the nearby tent, setting it ablaze, just in time for an arrow to pierce my leg. Hoping the tent fire keeps the pursuers busy, I limp to an alley between tents. The spell is due to end in no time.

A slight rustle unsettles me, and I peek my head out to survey the alley. It’s the owl. The owl is standing at the mouth of the alley, its eyes fixed on me. It doesn’t move an inch. It just keeps staring.

Black ink blots out the colors, and tiny twinkling lights fill the darkness. I have returned to the space between worlds.