Sixteen years ago…

“I’ve never met anyone with such a stubborn familiar,” Elena teases, feeding her own familiar, a black and brown Mastiff, scraps from the table. “Even Adrian is better behaved.”

“Because he cannot get into his human form,” I huff, scooping oatmeal out of my bowl, and stuffing it into my mouth.

Adrian growls at me from his place beneath the table. I growl back at him, mocking him.

“It’s fine, Adi. She’s just jealous.”

The dog, incredibly small for his age, but incredibly large for a puppy, tucks himself between Elena’s feet, happily accepting her pets of comfort.

“One of us is jealous,” I mutter. “But it’s not me.”

I carry my dishes to the kitchen sink, scrub them clean, then take up my school bag, and rush out the door. Moments later, I can hear Elena panting as she struggles to keep up with me, Adrian’s collar clinking as he runs at her side. She’s smart enough not make small talk as we walk towards Antonio’s house, which is on our way to school.

Antonio, now nineteen years old, stands by the wooden fence that surrounds his house with Camilla at his side. Camilla is Antonio’s familiar, and I don’t often see her in her animal form, not since they were children. If I recall correctly, she was a pure white horse with a golden mane. Now, she’s a graceful woman, with long, wavy golden hair which she wears at her back in a braid adorned in red hibiscus flowers. Her skin is like smooth ivory, and her striking, blue eyes the color of cornflowers. She wears a soft white gown that billows gently around her ankles. The morning sun forms a halo around her head when her hair catches the light. She smiles, and waves when she spots us. Antonio does the same.

“Clara, Elena, nice to see you,” greets Antonio.

Adrian barks.

“Hola to you, too, Adi,” he says, leaning over to scratch behind Adrian’s ear. “Where’s Sebastían?”

“I don’t care,” I huff, stomping on ahead. “He comes and goes as he pleases.”

Camilla walks next to me down the road, gliding gracefully, walking seemingly effortless to her. She’s quiet, not forcing me to speak, simply smiling her pretty smile for everyone to see. Elena and Antonio loudly discuss plans for the weekend, Elena dominating the conversation as she usually does.

“If this one would just figure out how to become human-”

Adrian growls.

“You’ll figure it out, Adi. I have no doubts about that,” reassures Elena. “I just can’t wait until you can join us for all the parties. Aren’t you excited about that?”

Adrian lets out a small whine, tucking his tail between his legs. Elena takes him up into her arms in one quick swoop, and cuddles him, with his head nestled between her shoulder and neck. Camilla giggles, delighted by the sight of such a large dog being held like a baby.

“You’re spoiling him,” teases Antonio.

“¡Ay, no me digas! You were the same way with Camilla, sleeping in the barn every night until she learned to become human.”

Antonio laughs. “And look where it got me. My parents like her more than me.”

“Everyone likes her more than you.”

“All of you are traitors, but I understand. What about you, Clarita?”

“What about me?” I grumble.

“Sebastian came to you as a human. Does he struggle to remain in his owl form?”

“Sebastian struggles with nothing, because he’s apparently perfect, and better than everyone else in this town!” I huff. “It’s my fault I cannot do magic well enough!”

Camilla gives Antonio a worried look, then shakes her head just before Antonio speaks.

“Did something happen?” he asks Elena, ignoring Camilla.

Camilla rolls her eyes, and shakes her head.

“I was just telling Clara that I’ve never met anyone with such a misbehaved familiar. You would think with his background, he would be better behaved.”

“It’s not that at all,” Camilla says gently. “They just haven’t properly bonded.”

“We did the ceremony,” I inform her. “You just weren’t there.”

“It takes more than just a ceremony. You should spend time with him. Get to know him. Study and practice with him, not just at school, but outside. You never bring him to any of the birthday parties or-”

“He never wants to come,” I say angrily. “He turns down every invitation, calling it all a waste of time.”

“I see,” she hums. “I could talk to him, if you’d like.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Clara,” says Elena. “Everyone listens to Camilla. Well, everyone except Antonio, and you’ve seen all the stupid things he does”.

“Aye!” cries Antonio. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” I mutter. “He’s my familiar. I don’t need you to intervene every time we have a problem. You’ve done more than enough already.”

Camilla gives me a warm smile, then continues watching the trees with a blissful look as we walk down the road.

“Miss Reyes, your familiar?” asks Professor Garcia.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t know where he-”

A light tapping against the window draws our attention. I recognize Sebastian’s owl shape through the frosted glass, and open it. He glides in, and goes into his human form.

“What’s the meaning of this, Swiftwing?”

Sebastian ignores her, taking his seat next to me in the classroom, looking over the stacks of notes I’ve written.

“You need to work on your penmanship. I can barely read what you wrote,” he says, irritably.

“What’s the meaning of this, Miss Reyes?” asks Professor Garcia, lowering her glasses so I can see her glaring at me more clearly.

“Why don’t you ask him, since he’s here?” I gesture towards him with open palms.

“You’re his Mystic. You’re responsible for him.”

“You cannot possibly expect me to watch over him when he’s the same age as me. Besides, he doesn’t even listen to me. What am I supposed to do?”

“You make him,” shouts Professor Garcia, slamming a book on her desk, startling all of the students in the classroom, including myself.

Professor Garcia’s familiar, a monkey we know only as Hanu, scampers up a rope to the top of a high shelf, disappearing from sight. I glare at Sebastian, but he ignores me, taking my notes, and rewriting them for himself.

“Today, we will study the Mystic and familiar bond, which some of us clearly need to review.”

All eyes turn towards me. I sink into my seat, my cheeks hot with embarrassment, as Sebastian continues writing, ignoring everyone and everything around him.

“Miss Reyes, what is the first step in forming a bond with a familiar?”

“Preparation and intent. A Mystic must make known to the gods what their intentions for forming a bond will be, and create a space for the bonding ritual, adorning it with sacred artifacts, and energies that will resonate with both the Mystic and the familiar.”

“I’m impressed, Miss Reyes.”

Sebastian scoffs.

“Mister Swiftwing!” Professor Garcia calls on him more aggressively than he thought she would, causing him to stiffen in his seat.

He looks up at her, with large eyes. “Yes, Professor?”

“What is the next step?”

“How would I know? I’m the familiar in this scenario.”

Several of the others laugh. Professor Garcia slaps both hands onto Sebastian’s desk, causing them to fall silent.

“You should know this if you’ve been studying. Miss Reyes?”

Sebastian glares at me, his lips pressed tightly together, daring me to embarrass him, which I have no trouble doing.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Um…” I blink several times to gather my thoughts, fearful of being scolded. “Seeking and choosing the familiar. Traditionally, the Mystics would go out and seek the familiar that would call to them, either through a spiritual quest, or a journey. We have managed to-” I clear my throat, searching for the right word while ‘imprison’ screams at the back of my mind. “Provide for existing familiars, in the hopes that their Mystic resides here on the Islas de Ibis.”

“That’s correct. Mister Swiftwing?”

Sebastian panics, his eyes scanning my notes, but he won’t find the answers there. This is old material, something he should have learned last year.

“I suggest, Mister Swiftwing, that you get to your classes on time. Miss Reyes, Mister Swiftwing, you’ll be in charge of cleaning the classrooms tonight. I’ll inform your father you’ll be late for dinner, Miss Reyes. In the future, do your duty as a Mystic and teach your familiar not only his place, but the material he should be learning in class.”

Sebastian mutters curses under his breath, crossing his arms across his chest, looking angry. He looks that way through the entirety of the lesson.

During lunch, I open my mouth to invite him to join me and my cousins, but he gets up and stomps away before I can mutter a single word. Several classmates giggle as they walk past me, others place a hand on my shoulder, giving me pity I do not want. When I’m the last remaining, I collect my notes, stuff them between the pages of my book, and walk towards the lunchroom.

“He is increíble!” I shout, slamming my tray on the wooden table, in front of Elena and Antonio.

They remain silent, probably already having heard what has happened since news regarding Sebastian, El Familiar Rebelde (The Rebellious Familiar), spreads like wildfire through the school.

“Look, lunch is over for me,” says Antonio, taking up his and Camilla’s tray. “But we should talk later, okay?”

“We have to clean the classrooms tonight. I won’t have any time to do anything except hopefully my homework, and if I’m lucky, some sleep. There is no later.”

“I can help you.”

A boy I’ve never met before, takes a seat next to Antonio.

“Ah, Clara, have you met Cristian?” Antonio gestures towards the stranger.

I look him up and down; he’s got light skin, with many freckles, bright blue eyes hidden behind a pair of thick black glasses, and wavy, white blond hair. A white peacock with blue eyes jumps into the seat next to him, transforming into a girl with wild, curly hair to match his, big pouting lips, and a wide nose.

“Hola,” she greets. “I’m Diana.”

“Hola, I’m… Clara.”

“Sí, Elena talks about you all the time.”

“Does she?” I glare at Elena.

Elena readjusts in her seat, leaning down to scratch Adrian’s head. “It’s not all bad.”

Diana nods. “It’s not all bad. Except when she talks about Se-”

“Don’t,” I warn her. “Don’t say his name, or I’ll flip this table.”

Diana and Cristian laugh.

“Well, I have to go. See you, Clarita. Let’s go, Milla,” says Antonio. “We’ll talk, Clara.”

Camilla gives me a long stare before getting out of her seat, striding across the lunchroom floor like a floating petal when she follows after Antonio.

“You don’t have to help me. I can clean the classrooms myself. I have a system,” I inform Cristian.

“She does,” says Elena, proudly. “I’ve never seen someone get so efficient at it after just a year.”

“You are punished often?” asks Cristian. “Is not… how you say? Um… Diana, ayudame.”

“Is that really something you should be proud of?” asks Diana, reaching over to Cristian’s plate, picking off grapes.

“I’m not proud of it,” I say, placing my bag where Sebastian would be sitting if he were actually here. “But what can I do? I cannot control him. He’s out of control. He’s always moody, always scowling, always snarky, and rude, and insufferable. And when we’re home, he goes out to hunt.”

“You don-”

“I swear, if you ask me if I talk to him-”

“Oye, chica, calmate,” says Diana, holding her hands up defensively. “We’ll help you clean.”

“Why?” I ask, suspiciously.

“Well, Elena was telling us about you, and we’re… uh… interesados. She also tells us that you’re still passing your classes, no matter how hard Se-”

I narrow my eyes.

“-He tries to make you fail. We could use a bit of help. We’re struggling, but it’s not from lack of trying.”

Beneath the table, Adrian shakes, having had enough of Elena’s nervous ear scratching. He hops onto a seat next to her, and rests his head on the table, his face stuck in a permanent expression of sadness. I slide over a napkin with carrots towards him. He wags his tail, slapping Elena in the face with it as he scarfs them down. Elena grumbles, forcing him to sit, but his tail continues to wag, banging against the back of his chair.

“Fine. I have a bunch of assignments I have to get done today, anyway. What days do you need help?”

“The weekend, maybe?” suggests Diana.

“I’ll talk to my dad.”

There’s a tapping at the classroom window, as I lift all the desks into the air, suspending them there with a wind spell as I sweep. It’s Sebastian. I almost don’t let him in, but he won’t stop tapping, and I’m afraid he’ll break his beak. He flies in, and gets into his human form.

“Look who showed up. You’re late. This is the last classroom.” It’s not a good greeting, I’ll admit.

“I had things to do.”

“Like what?”

“It doesn’t matter. Give me the broom.”

“No! I refuse to let you take any credit for this.”

“Don’t be stupid. No one will know I wasn’t here.”

“I will,” says Cristian quietly, peeking around the doorframe into the room.

“And who are you?” asks Sebastian, aggressively.

“This is my friend,” I inform him, beginning to sweep at the farthest corner from the door. “Cristian, this is Sebastian. Sebastian, Cristian.”

“Don’t forget me.” Diana giggles as she walks into the room, carrying a pile of dirty rags that need washing.

“Diana, Sebastian. Eh, eh…”

Cristian hauls a bucket to the far corner where I’ve swept, and begins to wipe the floor down with a clean, damp rag which quickly becomes dark.

“I guess they don’t clean much until you’re being punished, eh?” asks Cristian. “They’re getting spoiled by you?”

“They always know it’ll get it done eventually, I’m sure.” I look up at Sebastian, who stares back at me blankly. “My punishments are consistent now. I bet next week I have to clean up the potions kitchen.”

“I always wondered how they stayed so clean. Was it you that cleaned that purple stain off the white counter last year?”

“Did you make that stain?” I ask, turning away from Sebastian with a quiet huff.

“I’m afraid so. How did you do it?”

“Mi mamá taught me how to clean before I could even walk. She has this potion she uses that could remove the color out of paint, it’s so strong.”

Cristian laughs. “Do you think she could do the opposite? I could use a tan.”

Diana laughs with him. “I could use some of that, too. Maybe my feathers could be blue and green again.”

“Imagine that,” he says, looking over at Diana. “I cannot. It would look unusual.”

“Imagine you with dark hair like your dad.”

Cristian lip twitches. “On second thought.”

“Give me the broom, Clara.” Sebastian reaches for the dustpan.

“No,” I say, pushing him away. “Go home. Go read a book, or study.”

“Clara, don’t be stubborn.”

The desks groan as I struggle to keep them up, my blood bubbling in anger. Cristian and Diana pause, staring at the desks, covering their heads. Sebastian doesn’t flinch, just backs away, understanding that I want to swat him with the broom in my hands, because it is the strongest thought in my mind at the moment.

“Go home, Sebastian. I will not ask you again.”

“I’ll wait outside.”

“Go home.”

He stomps out, slamming the door behind him. Diana and Cristian stare, and I know they’re silently judging me.

“Sorry-”

“Wow, why is he like that?” Diana interrupts me. “Is he always like that?”

“I guess. He’s only gotten worse.”

Diana and Cristian exchange a glance, then look back at me. Diana tilts her head slightly, then stares at the floor, her eyes fixed on a beam of light that shines brightly through the window. She nods after some time, then leaves.

“Where are you going?” I ask. “I can help you with those when I’m done.”

She plasters on a bright smile. “Don’t worry, you can join me when you’re done. Cristian wants to talk to you.”

I look back and forth between them, being reminded most people have stronger bonds than the one between Sebastian and I. “Okay. Don’t work too fast, or I’ll owe you more than just some tutoring lessons.”

She cackles maniacally before exiting the room with the basket of rags. “I sure hope so.”

The room is awkwardly quiet as Cristian and I clean. Whatever he wanted to say to me is not coming easily, and he seems to be arguing with himself over word choices, until finally looking up at me with a nervous smile.

“I like you, Clara. I’ve seen you around, and you’re…”

“Interesting?”

He nods. “And pretty, and smart, and very… uh… responsible.”

His cheeks are red. He spins around, continuing to wipe the floor.

“You seem… nice, and helpful. I cannot say you’re responsible if you’re struggling with your classes.”

“Maybe if I can focus on them, I’ll do better.”

“Why are you… unfocused?”

He laughs nervously. “You. I’m afraid it is your fault.”

At home, I sneak inside, afraid my mother will catch me before I even have a chance to take a breath. A boyfriend. Cristian wants to be my boyfriend. My parents would never allow it. They want me to focus on my studies, to take over the Reyes family legacy. I have no time for boyfriends when I need to focus on my magic. I have no time for magic, when I have to focus on getting Sebastian to stop being such a donkey!

“Clara?” my father calls out. “Is that you? Professora Garcia went to see me during lunch to inform me you were cleaning classrooms again.”

He enters the kitchen, where I’m guzzling down a bowl of my mother’s soup. I nod, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my coat after I’ve slurped up a noodle too enthusiastically. He sighs, digging through the drawers to find me a kitchen towel, tossing it at my face.

“Y Sebastián, dónde está?”

I shrug, wiping my face, finishing up the rest of my soup more slowly. “I left without him.”

He shuts his eyes, restraining his anger. “Mija, your mom tells me it’s not normal. He’s not normal. You should get another familiar. It’s not too late. You’re smart. You’re keeping up with your studies even though he’s being… uh… difficult. Imagine what you could do with a familiar that actually wants to help you.”

“Papí, I don’t want to-” I hear Sebastian hooting in the backyard. “I’ll talk to him. It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“Okay, mija,” he says, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “Your mom is working late this whole week. Something about delayed ships because of some storm.”

“Okay. I’ll try not to get stuck late at school again.”

With mom gone, maybe I can talk to my father about having a boyfriend. He’s always been more understanding of my desire to live a normal life than she has. Afterall, she had all the same pressures growing up that she’s putting on me, except she never learned that maybe it wasn’t fair. It was just our duty as the potential heads of the Reyes family. I prepare a bowl of soup, warm it with a fire spell, and set it on a tray with a stale piece of bread. Taking a deep breath, I push open the kitchen door, and stand outside, looking up at the branch of a palm, his silhouette outlined in the bright light of the full moon.

“I brought you something,” I say quietly, setting the tray down on the garden table, and taking a seat. “Would you please come down?”

He glides down, landing on the chair across from me, then goes into his human form. Taking up the spoon, he stirs the soup absently, watching me carefully.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” I say, turning towards the garden, where my mother’s flowers are in full bloom. “I will try harder.”

“Why?” he whispers. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Why do you care?”

“What do you mean, why do I care? I care because you’re my responsibility.”

“You’re just a kid!”

“So are you. If we’re going to get through this life together, we have to get through it without fighting all the time. At least give me a better reason to be upset. You just show up out of nowhere, you don’t say anything unless it’s to make me angry, but you’re not wrong; I do have sloppy handwriting.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh. “You can’t cook, either.”

“I’ll work on that. Look, I don’t know what I did, but I wish you would talk to me so we could work on fixing it, because I don’t know where to begin.”

He looks up at me, sadly, his face contorting as he holds back a sob. “Could I have a perch in your room?”

“A perch in my room?”

He nods, one of his tears escaping. “Please? I don’t like being outside all the time. I don’t like being away from you, and in the dark all the time. There are snakes, and foxes, and sometimes I hear eagles. I get scared.”

“Is that all you want?”

He nods, a quiet sob escaping as he wipes his tears with the back of his sleeve.

“I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you ask me?”

He gestures towards the garden, to the spot where I prepared his sacred place. The ring of crystals are still there, somewhere buried beneath the dirt.

“It was not what you offered me.”

“Well,” I huff, getting out of my chair. “I’ll fix that. Eat your dinner.”

As Sebastian eats his soup, dipping his bread in whatever remains cling to the sides of the bowl, I use my mother’s trowel to unbury the crystals in the garden. There are six, each representing the elements of magic, and seventh, a piece of pyrite, to represent the family name. I carry them all in my hands, rinsing them off in a bucket of water, and drying them off with my shirt.