by Ramy Vance
“You were joking, right,” Stew shouted as Sandy walked off. “Babe! You were joking, right? I thought we already talked about the tentacle thing.”
Suzuki slapped Stew on the back and laughed. “Not only is she better looking than you, but she’s also funnier, too. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Suzuki left Stew to his insecurities as he searched for his own familiar. Somehow being here made the fears running around in Suzuki’s head all but disappear.
This place was magic. Not magical.
Magic.
Nothing about it was close to anything he could have fathomed before. Suzuki wondered if these were the same familiars that the military used. It probably didn’t matter either way.
He wandered around and let his eyes soak up everything. Fairies drifted around the flowers near the lake. Their wings caught every ray of light and acted like a prism, casting rainbows across the grass. The nymphs in the water were splashing each other until a raccoon the size of a bear leapt through the air, cannonballing into the lake, sending water flying everywhere. The familiars sunbathing next to the lake screeched and laughed.
Suzuki wanted to observe some more before he made a move, so he took up an open spot near a small patch of gardenias.
By now, many of the familiars had gravitated toward a recruit. Suzuki was glad that nothing had come near him yet, and he was able to take it all in. He wondered how it was that familiars helped reestablish humanity with the magical world. Perhaps it was some kind of symbiotic relationship or bond? Or maybe it was just an agreement, plain and simple. The familiars helped humans access magic and humans … what did humans offer them? He wasn’t sure.
Suzuki was tossing theories around in his head when he noticed a figure at the far edge of the garden-- an imp sitting alone on a giant stone facing the darkest part of the forest.
The imp’s back was turned from the garden, as if it wanted nothing to do with the matching of familiars and humans.
Suzuki knew exactly what the creature was doing. He recognized it because it was what he so often did -- sit alone, away from everyone else, contemplating. Suzuki didn’t know how to explain it, but he was drawn to the creature, almost as if they were kindred spirits.
Or maybe it was more magic, guiding his thoughts and actions.
Whatever it was, Suzuki stood and started in the imp’s direction.
Manny floated up beside Suzuki, his many eyes tracking the young man. “Finally decided on a familiar to pursue?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure. But I did want to ask that imp a few questions.”
“Don’t take any of his answers seriously. He may try to mislead you.”
“I thought this garden was filled with user-friendly familiars only.”
Manny made a motion as if he were trying to shrug. “Not all is as it seems. Besides that creature is an imp to begin with, an eldritch imp on top of that.”
“You guys really hold onto your notions of racial good and evil, don’t you?”
“Only when the hold fits. And even then, my definition of good and evil is not simply put in terms for those who can only see one thing at a time.”
“Just because you have a ton of eyes, doesn’t make you omniscient.”
“If these were my only eyes, I’d agree.”
Suzuki stopped walking and stared at the Beholder. He tried to meet Manny’s many eyes, but there were too many to focus on. “What are you trying to tell me?” Suzuki probed.
“The imp is eldritch. It is not like other imps of its kind. It has existed for longer than I can see. And with that lengthy existence comes a somewhat peculiar concept of morality. Let me say it simply: I have rarely met an eldritch creature with even the smallest inkling of care for mortals.”
“So what’s he doing here? Isn’t this a place to hold familiars to help mortals?”
“He is here because he is a traitor. He once worked for the forces of the Dark One. He defected over matters which mortals cannot seem to grasp. Once he was on our side, he bonded with a human for a brief period of time. It did not go well. Only the imp remains. Since then he’s refused to cooperate with any other mortal. He refuses to give any explanation. And since he is an eldritch creature, there is only so much which I can see.”
Suzuki watched the imp from afar as it spread its wings and curled its tail. If Manny had been trying to deter him from approaching the imp, he’d failed. His warnings only served to deepen Suzuki’s curiosity. “Thanks for the pep talk, but I think I’m gonna find out what this guy’s deal is, anyway.”
Manny silently nodded his head, giving some kind of consent or encouragement. Suzuki crossed the length of the garden, approaching the imp. The flowery scent of the garden faded, and the closer Suzuki got to the imp, the stronger the smell of brimstone and sulfur. The imp was crouched low as if it were holding something between its hands. Its scales were interlaced beautifully over each other, and they shone in the sunlight. Two large horns curled over its head like those of a ram.
As Suzuki approached the imp, he raised his hands as if he’d been stopped by the cops. It seemed like a good idea to at least show he wasn’t armed. “Hey,” Suzuki called.
The imp looked over its shoulders. Its eyes were black as death. “What do you want, human?” the imp hissed. His voice was deep and sultry. “I am contemplating.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Thinking” is not the same as contemplating. And what I am thinking about would hardly be of interest to you.”
“Try me.”
The imp turned around so that it could face Suzuki. It was larger than it looked from behind. Its wiry, frail body exuded an air of power that confused Suzuki. Just looking at the imp made Suzuki uncomfortable. Its black eyes bore deep into Suzuki, and he felt as if the imp could see anything within him that it wanted. Even if Suzuki didn’t.
“Time,” the imp said. “I am thinking of time and dreams. Those which we have seen and those which have yet to come and all of that which has always been.”
“What makes you think that I don’t understand time?”
“Time is not a concept you humans tend to grasp easily.”
Suzuki walked closer. He took a seat on a rock near the imp’s as the imp’s scales ruffled like that of a giant bird. “You mean like quantum mechanics? Or are you talking in a more abstract sense? Like the very nature of time itself?”
“Child,” the imp spat. “I existed before your kind pulled themselves from their bacteria-laden womb and shat themselves across your realm. Do you honestly think that a cursory knowledge of Stephen Hawking is going to impress me?”
“No, but I think an extensive knowledge might.”
“Interesting. You are proud, yet also reek of insecurity. Still, nothing more than a simple human paradox.”
“You never said what you were thinking of. Specifically. I mean, any human undergrad can think about time.”
The imp clutched its branch while it leaned over to get a better look at Suzuki. “I was born in a place that no longer exists in time. I am spending my eternity locked away in this timeless prison, waiting for a half-witted human savior to take me away from a place where nothing dies, and everything stays green and full of life. I wonder how long I must wait to taste air, true air, air full of decaying molecules. And I wonder how long it will take my new host to die so that I may be released into the world anew.”
Suzuki shrugged his shoulders and leaned back on his rock. “That’s not really a question about time. That’s mostly about your place in time.”
“What is time without the individual to experience it?”
“Good point.”
“I know.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name has been whispered across the barren caverns of space for nearly a millennium. It requires two tongues and a thorough understanding of the first words to even whisper it.”
“How about Fred then?” Suzuki extended his hand. “I can pronounce Fred with one to
ngue and a mediocre grasp of English.”
The imp laughed. Not that it sounded like anything more than gears in an unoiled machine cracking against one another. Then Fred eyed Suzuki carefully, as if he wasn’t just looking at him, but through him. “Interesting. Death follows you but has yet to choose you. Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe—”
“It was a rhetorical question. Your kind is wholly unfit to even contemplate such things. Still, you amuse me, mortal. Very well, then, I have been here long enough. Time to breath the air of death once more. Your name, human?”
“Robert, but my friends call me Suzuki.”
“You are tolerable, Robert. Barely.”
“Suzuki, please. Call me Suzuki. Everyone does.”
“Very well, Suzuki,” the imp said, turning back to the darkness of the forest.
“So now what?”
Fred sighed as if he were debating something in his head. Then with a growl, he jumped off of the branch, flapped his wings, and floated beside Suzuki. “I suppose that I follow you around on any asinine quest you see fit to exploit my powers for. And why not? Asinine quests or endless meandering in this garden are my choices. And to that end, I guess following you will be slightly more interesting than being here. At least it will be a change of scenery. So, as the mortals say: lead on.”
Suzuki wasn’t sure how to take any of these statements, but it seemed he had landed himself a familiar. He took a tentative step away from Fred, who flapped his wings and floated after Suzuki.
“So we’re kind of like a buddy movie?”
“And what is a buddy movie, exactly?”
“You know, like Lethal Weapon or Turner and Hooch?”
Fred closed his eyes, and Suzuki felt something enter his mind. “Ahh, I see. You are speaking of human stories.” The imp probed some more. “Not Lethal Weapon. More like Turner and Hooch—where you are the canine destined to die. Shall we?”
Chapter Twelve
The duo made their way back to the main part of the garden. More recruits were paired up with familiars, enjoying the shade next to the lake. It looked like a lazy Sunday morning, with recruits and familiars chatting casually in a park.
It would have been quite a peaceful scene if some of those familiars weren’t downright terrifying monsters.
Suzuki looked around, hoping to spot Stew or Sandy in the crowd, but he couldn’t see them anywhere. They must be in the forest, still looking for their familiars.
Suzuki wandered the surrounding area of the lake for a bit until he spotted Sandy. She was sitting in a small plot of daisies, weaving a handful of flowers together into a flower crown. Next to her was what looked like a very large rabbit with a foot-long spiral horn coming out of its forehead. Suzuki recognized the creature from a tabletop game that he used to play before Middang3ard: an almiraj.
If he remembered correctly, they were pretty docile creatures with a habit of getting themselves into trouble. They were also sought out by poachers because of the innate magical abilities stored in the horn.
Suzuki wondered if Sandy knew that. He didn’t remember her being an avid tabletop fan before Middang3ard, and she’d never seemed to care much about lore in-game. Still, if anyone could find a familiar to boost her magical capabilities, it would be Sandy.
Suzuki waved over in Sandy’s direction. “Hey, Sandy,” he shouted. “You got one yet?”
Sandy scooped up the almiraj and held it close to her chest as she nuzzled it with her face. “Oh, my God, Suzuki,” Sandy exclaimed. “You have to see this adorable fucking fuzzball. His name is Niv.”
Niv leapt out of Sandy’s grasp as Suzuki and Fred approached. His nose was trembling like prey before a predator, but he still hopped up to Suzuki and Fred, stood on his hind legs, and slightly bowed his head so that his horn pointed in their direction.
“Nivens McUnicorn McTwisp at your service,” Niv said.
Suzuki knelt down and bowed as well. “That’s quite a name you got there, buddy,” Suzuki said.
“My true name is 47 consonants and must be screeched if you are to get the cadence right. But I’ve found that humans respond better to cute names. And from what I’ve been told, I’m very cute. ‘Painfully cute’ as Sandy has put it.”
Sandy leaned over and scratched Niv’s rear, causing his hind leg to jump and tap the ground percussively. “You are painfully cute. Looking at you is literally killing me.”
Fred landed on Suzuki’s shoulder and dug his claws in deep. Suzuki jumped and winced from the pain, but caught himself before he gave any other indication of how uncomfortable he was. Niv looked up at Fred and smiled sweetly, as only a bunny can.
“Hey,” Niv called. “A human actually chose you? I thought you’d be rotting in this garden until someone remembered they used to worship you.”
“Thankfully, there are some actual adventurers in this bunch of whelps. Besides, I chose him, lowly beast.”
“Mine’s a bit of a grump.” Suzuki saddled up next to Sandy. “Have you seen Stew anywhere? I haven’t been able to find him in the crowd.”
“A little while ago,” Sandy answered. “He was talking to the nymphs…actually, I think he was trying to flirt with them, but they pulled him in the water and left. He slunk off after that.”
“Trying to flirt with them? Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
Sandy shrugged. “Nope. He’s all mine, and I know it. What’s the harm with a little flirting? Especially if it ends up with him looking like an idiot.”
Suzuki and Sandy laughed while their familiars watched. “Come on. We should probably go find him.”
The four of them left the grassy knoll by the lake and wandered through the rest of the garden. After a few minutes, they came across Stew, wandering around with another recruit. Stew looked almost frantic. There were no familiars around, only a large patch of bright yellow flowers roughly the size of Suzuki. The two Mundanes and their familiars jogged over to catch up with Stew.
“How’s the monster hunt going?”
Stew shrugged as he looked at the flowers, not even bothering to meet their eyes. “Harder than it looks like it was for everyone else,” he finally said. “Figured I could at least try to pick Sandy some flowers while I was out here.”
Sandy shrieked and ran over to hug Stew. “You were gonna pick me flowers?”
“Of course. You love flowers. And these are pretty, right? I thought they were pretty.”
Stew reached out to grab one of the flowers and Sandy’s eyes went wide. “Wait,” Sandy shouted, “those are—”
One of the flowers leaned over, and its petals split open. It snatched up the wandering, unaware recruit and started munching.
“Holy shit,” Suzuki shouted as he leapt back.
Niv jumped to the front of the group and lowered his horn. “Don’t worry mortals,” Niv said. “I got this.” And with that, Niv charged full-force into the carnivorous plant. The plant jerked open and spit the new recruit out. The recruit shrieked and tried to wipe off the sap covering his body as he wandered away, clearly dazed by the experience.
“Thistle Bite,” Sandy finished.
Stew cautiously leaned forward for a better look. “Never seen such a big, hungry plant before.”
The Thistle Bite leaned over and snapped at Stew, causing him to stumble backward and fall flat. Sandy stepped forward, her eyes flashing brightly. “Who would plant something like this in a garden with a bunch of new recruits?” she exclaimed, irritation dripping from every word. “It’s so irresponsible.”
Sandy waved her fingers, and the Thistle Bite burst into flames. She looked down at her hands, surprised. Then she started giggling and pointed at the rest of the Thistle Bite. Flames shot out of her fingers, and the whole patch of flowers caught flame.
Niv hopped up and took a seat on Sandy’s foot. “I know how to pick ‘em,” he said. “Not even bonded and you’re already using magic. You’ve got a talent.”
“Thanks,” Sandy cooed. Then she loo
ked at Stew, who had already started to wander off. She leaned closer to Suzuki. “He still hasn’t found one. This is like tryouts all over again.”
Niv cleared his throat. Sandy and Suzuki looked down at him. “I could help him in this department,” Niv offered. “I have a friend who’s a little too shy for these kinds of things. They might get along. And it would help keep some of his…err…carnal desires in check.”
“Let’s see him! And hopefully not too in check.”
Niv twitched his nose three times and then dug his horn into the ground. Up ahead, Stew was walking, kicking stones in his path. The ground in front of him started shaking and Stew stopped. The ground continued to quake as if something were drilling itself out.
A head popped out. It was shaped like a donkey’s head, and it wore a goofy smile as if it were aware of how ridiculous a donkey burrowing out of the ground was.
But it didn’t stop there. The donkey’s head forced itself out and was followed by sharp, stone claws which made way for the five-inch squat body of a stone gargoyle. It had been carved with an impressive set of pecs and biceps and short, stubbly wings.
The gargoyle must have been sculpted by someone who was obsessed with the human form, Suzuki thought. That and donkeys.
“Well, look at you, little dude,” Stew exclaimed. “Where did you come from?”
The donkey gargoyle bashfully looked away. If stone could blush, the gargoyle was doing it right then. “From underground,” the donkey gargoyle said.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for a familiar.”
“I’m looking for a human.”
“Uh…do you want to be my familiar?” Stew said in a tone that mirrored a toddler asking another toddler if they wanted to be friends.
“Would you be my human?”
“I’m down!”
The conversation was oddly simple, which by Suzuki’s estimation meant it was perfect for Stew. The donkey gargoyle smiled and nodded its agreement. It wobbled over closer to Stew and threw his arms around Stew’s leg.
