I sputter a single name for him: “Ki-Ki-Kindle?” And then I pass out. My head dropped itself towards my back, I expect the worst—but I don’t feel the hard surface of the floor; I feel a leathery pillow softening my landing before my mind goes to an unknown place. It must have been hours because when I woke up from what felt like an eternity, it was already midday, the bells had already sung, the ships had departed, crates unloaded, and I… I-… don’t have anything to do.
I suppose I could learn more about Kindle’s state? …Condition? I don’t really know. The details of the spell mention being able to summon your familiar from a pocket dimension, where they reside at will. Looking at the details of what and how to do, I get to see more of Kindle’s half-spirit, half-book anatomy—it seems that his back is my notebook’s spine, and the wings are folded from my oversized covers, and the pages do the job of being the rest of the chest, neck and a rather detailed head; if something is responsible for such a meticulous way of folding the sheets all attached to a single point, magic would be responsible.
I can sense it’ll be one of those days, where out of all of the plans and actions that are to happen in the near future have happened, out of all the schedules in the world agreed in a meeting in the dungeon deep within the caves of the Underdark and declared in unison, “Today’s the day where it is not a day!”, and everyone seems to forget that it is a day, and merely go on with life; you can say that day is just a filler, and some may even take it as a break from the eternal charge of time, while for others like me, we don’t.
And I hate these types of days; as someone who likes to have a mental plan of the day, it infuriates me. The best thing I could do is to learn how to control Kindle. It says here that by snapping your fingers, the familiar is sent to some sort of demi-plane where they live, and another snap brings them back to reality. A more complicated stunt is being able to perceive what your familiar sees at the cost of blinding you while your senses are not in your body. Maybe I should practice the former first.
I concentrate, flicker my thumb and middle finger, and… nothing. My little paper dragon is still there—again, nothing. One more time, magic says no. Maybe slower? Not even a sound is made. Concentrate, Ellice, concentrate. Don’t think of something else— Oh. That one rule of spellcasting: focus on what you’re doing and what you’re looking to achieve; what is it that plagues your mind?
“The seagulls won’t feed when you’re watching them”, my father would say, “they are sneaky, and they will come only when you’re distracted”. I once lost a pastry when we were at the bakery, and my dad told me so after getting me another pastry. Being confined to a ship surely gives you time to think. Thanks.
My head motions back to Kindle, and there is no need to state it out loud: “maybe I should go outside for once”. He nods in agreement. The brushes’ orange strokes on the sky call for it as the darks sways of the bay remind me that I’m a human being, whose mortality is measured in gold that is smelted and liquefied from the depths of the Earth. “Take care”, my father would say, “take care of yourself in all matters”. And so, I will. I’ll go and get some tea for myself at the Wyvern’s Cup.
Despite their size, the place has capsuled a slice of the heavens to their small corner of the world. Tranquility and peace are the Boffinpott’s: they’re a halfling couple of graying hair who came here some decades ago due to the circumstances at their native land of Quriam Cliffs on the other side of the world; they moved to Laushore because “back home got dangerous”. What matters is that they’re safe now, and they brought their customs and an otherworldly way to brew tea. Many students that wish to study go to the Wyvern’s Cup, and the Boffinpotts have cared for us like a hen to is chicks; their age and experience have enlightened them to the beauty of life.
I sit down and order a cup of yellow tea for myself.
Originally, they had chairs that were fit for beings of 3ft of stature, but after realizing their main demographic were humans of magical studies, they chopped the legs and backrests of two-thirds of the chairs and left us with some surprisingly comfy cushions where you sit cross-legged. I am not the only one cross-legged on this evening, for on the other side of the room was another one of my classmates with a notebook at his left and dozens of tiny vials, each containing inks of different colors and, of course, a separate vial holding water and some freshly used quills and brushes; not sure why you would have both on the same inkwell, but he does he.
I attempt to sip my cup in peace, when suddenly then the boy’s head shifts to the opposite corner, goes back, and his eyes lock back to me. “Ellice!” My body goes rigid. “Ah ah— yes…? Uh… what’s your name again? I don’t remember”. I sometimes forget the names of people who I don’t interact often with, I just keep to my own matters.
“Adri”, he uttered in a shy and nervous voice. “I was gonna ask you if you could help me with my ritual, but I don’t think you—” “No, no, I do! What do you need?” “They are the circle marks. They don’t seem to react despite the fact that I drew the sigils right”.
He was right; the eye symbol was centered at the oval, the dwarvish scripts which represent something arcane (we haven’t learned about that, sorry), as well as the more abstract figures of the schools of magic and their spots on the arcane wheel.
“Are you casting Detect Magic?” I ask. “Yep, but every time I finish the tracing of the ritual, it doesn’t work. I probably wasted all my sheets attempting the ritual.” Adri then points at the mountain of crumpled papers with the exact same eye and figures. “This is my last page before I have to purchase another stack”. “What type of ink are you using?” “I’m using several inks for the ritual. I like the way it loo—” It was at this pause that we both knew where the problem was.
And then an awkward silence.
Adri flipped his last remaining sheet of paper, cleaned his quill, and started drawing the ritualistic sigil in a single, uniform, black color. “Thanks, Ellice” he mentioned halfway through as he detailed the symbol of abjuration, I was back at my spot and had finished my tea, Kindle was resting next to me behind the counter, he had stayed there while the whole exchange occurred, Adri was still homed in on the ritual, so he most likely hasn’t seen him either. Then a glow of a blue hue brightens the room, outshining even the candles and resting sun of the Wyvern’s Cup; the light came from Adri’s corner.
And just as the light came so it vanished, the Boffinpots gazed at the event with the same curiosity that halflings are known for, they were still impressed despite the weekly basis on which they experience a young wizard’s first steps. And Adri himself? His eyes dimly glew with the same hue as the light that outshined the room; he had done it, a young wizard’s first steps of ritual casting and the artist of the class who so often was distracted detailing sketches, advanced in his studies.
He then scouted with his vision the chamber, with a face of awe, as if he put on glasses for the first time, and saw with clarity for the first time; and he was; he could see the magical forces contained in objects and people, at least that’s what theoretically could see, but as I have not cast Detect Magic yet, I won’t describe it as to not mislead you.
And a thought dawned on me, could Adri see the essence of Kindle? Before my mind could dig itself once again, my question was answered as Adri’s head stared at me, more precisely, to the side of me.
“W-What’s that?” Asked Adri with dread in his speech. “This?” I then order Kindle to land on Adri’s disheveled hair, he spreads his wings and takes off; of course Adri freaks out as you should when a cat-sized magical being held with leather and paper aims for your head. I must admit the situation was funny, a small chuckle even escaped from me; eventually, he landed on Adri. “His name is Kindle” I answered, attempting to not appear smug. My attempt failed horribly.
Something had clicked at that moment, as I instinctively pressed my thumb and my middle finger and Kindle transfigured back to my notebook in a puff of smoke. It took me a moment to realize what had happened; then I snap again, my notebook emits a white cloud and vanishes, only to reappear once again as the folded and winged form I came to recognize. “You’re weirder than I thought Ellice” confessed Adri, still confused by the events that transpired. “Says the boy whose eyes are glowing” I answered back.
His hand approached Kindle with skepticism and curiosity, landing on Kindle’s small head to what seemed to be a pat. Adri showed the same attitude you do to a stray cat on the street, friendly, yes, but wary of any upcoming attacks; messing with him was already enough for me, I let him connect with Kindle after that rough introduction.
“How did you learn of him, and why is he… well like that? He looked like a book” It took me a minute to answer, “he sort of said.” I replied, “He’s the result of the ritual I casted, but when I had finished the smoke of Kindle crept into my notebook that was nearby, then that happened”. “That’s interesting” He answered back as he patted Kindle’s back, “Is that from abjuration magic?” “I think it is; I don’t remember the details”. We engaged in more talk that I will not get into, it isn’t worth sharing.
Twilight soon came, and we both left for our homes, we as students can’t live as night owls after all. I later learnt that Adri lived on the Lower East Hults, that’s on opposite sides of the city of where I live, the Western Yamis. The clash of the sea and the coast are songs for the crickets to play, and the stone paths guide me back to my home, now pitch black because someone forgot to light the front lanterns.
“Good night Kindle”, I say to him. No response came, just a simple nod as he curled on my nightstand. That was one of the most pleasant nights of sleep I’ve experienced.