Faerie Tales: A Cub’s Courage

How did Undine teach an old familiar new tricks?

Undine Ó Súilleabháin threw the heavy red grimoire to the floor in a huff, brushing the hair out of her face with a groan.

Kicking out a still-burning candle, she rounded on the monster in the corner of the room, fire in her eyes. The argent tiger was not amused, golden mane-feathers raised. Undine started throwing objects in a fury. It let out a growl and swiped at the projectiles, yowling when a thick candlestick struck its nose.

Undine dropped to her knees, exhausted. “I swear I’ll turn you into a guinea pig if you don’t focus, Maha. You must learn to cast. You’re a familiar! Let go of control. The magick will do what you need.”

Maha uncurled from the corner, filling up most of the large study. “ It hurts.”

He was right. Channeling the arcane almost felt like touching a live wire. The Fae trained from an early age to deal with the sensations. Undine understood, but wouldn’t accept his answer. He was being proud, like he always was.

Through their link, she knew she had offended him with her insistence he finally learn to cast. Most familiars amplified spells instinctively; usually before their paired Fae could even walk. They would boost their Fae’s magick in support; this was the primary function of a familiar.

Maha, however, was a special case.

Argent tigers were rare and feared; large as an elephant with an impenetrable pelt. It could take an entire village of Fae to overpower one in the wild. Thus, Maha had never needed to cast.

All he had to do was stand beside her. His hide was strong enough to withstand most spells; claws and fangs naturally imbued with magick so sharp that no lesser familiar dared approach.

Undine’s skills in the arcane eventually helped her become High Magus of Stalnova; a job she’d excelled at for over 100 years. Until Brumhilda Reiksgelt had transferred from the island of Múir and issued a challenge for her position.

The duel against Brumhilda and her ice dragon, Hÿlear, would be in three days. Maha was a mighty creature, but without magick, a dragon would not fear him.

If Maha wouldn’t enhance her spells, she feared defeat.

“We’ll keep training tomorrow. I have to be at the office soon.” Undine’s shoulders stayed slumped all the way to work.

The black tiger hated when Undine worried. They would win, as they always had. Even if Hÿlear was the size of their home, Maha would triumph. He trusted the High Magus’ talents, and she should trust his.

It was the child’s fault.

His partner had acted weird ever since having her daughter, Bianca. Worries and fears had been weighing on their empathic link for some time. To make matters worse, she had scoffed at Maha’s suggested familiars for the newborn.

Undine picked a common house cat!

Smaller than one of Maha’s toe pads, the tiny thing did nothing but sleep. Curled up next to its partner like a stuffed pillow. Mistress said it was to ensure the new familiar had to cast. The little white morsel would have to resort to magick against most other creatures. Maha pitied the mewling thing, it would never be enough on its own to defend its master.

He laid next to the door and went to sleep, awaiting Undine’s return.

A nightmare shocked Maha back to consciousness. He was panting, his muscles sore. The oak table in the entryway lay splintered, and deep gouges covered the floor. Shaking himself off, he sat, and began to lick his paws in thought.

What if Hÿlear’s hide was as strong as his dream? What if his bulk could knock Maha away as easily? Could Maha win then? He felt the pain of his jaws straining around the flying dragon’s neck; the humiliation as it tossed him off like a fly.

Maybe Maha — like the still nameless kitten — would need more to win. Maybe he wasn’t enough.

Memories of cubhood rushed back. He’d been the runt, the last to eat; constantly shown that he wasn’t big or fast or strong enough to keep up with his pride. Weakness got him caught by poachers, but eventually led him to Undine. Now his weakness held her back.

Should he leave? Any familiar that could cast was better for Undine than Maha. He hung his head, nose almost striking the floor. Maybe-

A scent! Dry, dark and… angry?

It was coming from the baby’s room. With a roar, he charged the door, striking it with his weight. The door held; reinforced by Undine’s wards. Maha would use his claws. He scratched the wood apart piece by piece, magick flashing. The sinister intent inside grew.

He redoubled his efforts when he heard a piercing yelp followed by a small explosion. The door in slivers, he pounced inside growling, shaking the mansion to its foundations.

An ornate window had shattered inward, and a large black smudge covered the far wall. The nameless kitten stood at the foot of Bianca’s bed, a red force sigil dissipating above its head . The white cat stared daggers at the soot covered wall, which began to writhe.

Not soot, shadows.

Maha moved between the crib and the wall as the invader put itself back together. It was a shadow ifrit. A type of imp that didn’t survive in daylight, unless it was a Fae’s familiar.

Maha had walked in on an assassination.

Plans foiled, the imp screeched, turned into a shadow and flew out the window.

The tiger stood motionless, sensing for more energy, but there was none. A soft thud came from behind him. It was the kitten.

Its small white body looked almost pink; blood rushed from two gashes on its side. It made eye contact with the larger feline. Though still too young to speak, the kitten expressed her gratitude for Maha’s help. Satisfied that her Fae partner was safe, she rested her head on the floor.

Resigned to gasp her last breaths.

Maha saw the small thing in a new light. Ambushed, and so frail that one blow from the imp’s claws meant her death. Her pelt was soft, her claws miniscule, yet she fought back. That ferocity was what Maha lacked as a cub; true courage. Her breaths got shallower as the pool of blood spread. Maha bellowed, he would not sit idly and watch.

For the first time in his life, he had something he needed to do that he could not do alone.

He let go.

Another gust of wind threatened to toss Brumhilda Rieksgelt off Hÿlear’s back, she clung to her saddlehorn for dear life. Her passenger squeezed her midsection even harder.

“Faster Hÿlear! We’re almost there.”

When Undine Ó Súilleabháin herself had shown up disheveled in Brumhilda’s office, she’d expected either an argument, or a forfeiture of challenge. Everyone knew Undine’s familiar wouldn’t cast.

It wasn’t until Brumhilda saw her terrified expression that she registered the High Magus’ words.

“My wards were breached. My daughter. I need to fly, please!”

Laws banning teleportation and magickal flight in Stalnova made flying familiars the fastest way anywhere; Hÿlear was the fastest on the island. For Undine to ask her challenger for help meant the situation was dire.

Children were rarer than dragons among the Fae. Having one by natural means, as Undine had, was even rarer. The High Magus had enough enemies for someone to exploit that weakness. To break her wards, though, the culprit must have planned meticulously.

Brumhilda’s eyes widened as they landed by the manse. A golden ward array floated around the entire building. Wards were her passion, but she didn’t even recognize some of the sigils.

Before she could get a word out, Undine raced off Hÿlear’s back and into the house; arms waving as she brought up personal barriers.

“That woman’s been crazy since preschool. I’d never run into a strange ward without at least analyzing it.”

Hÿlear grumbled.“I wouldn’t touch that house if you bribed me with a herd of cattle. Those are Argent tiger sigils, enhanced by Undine Ó Súilleabháin’s magick.

She made it in because those are Maha’s wards. We’d get slashed to shreds before we reached the door.”

Her familiar talking was more shocking than the array. The ancient dragon rarely found much worthy of his attention anymore. He’d spoken less than ten words in the last two years.

“Maha made those? He wasn’t supposed to cast.”

A green ‘all clear’ sigil appeared at the front door. The intruder had been dealt with. No surprise, considering the array.

The blue dragon stretched his wings and snorted. “We can count that out now. Undine has more tricks than we foresaw. I’ve seen familiars make sigils that stable only twice before. This bout will be interesting.”

The Fae smiled, ecstatic her partner was entertained after centuries of lethargy. Branches shook as Hÿlear leapt into the sky.

On the silent flight Brumhilda wondered, how exactly did Undine teach an old familiar new tricks?

Stories and thoughts. Sci-fi, Spiritual and Supernatural Fantasy. Flash Fiction and more! D.L. Schrader

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